The spark of hope elicited by that thought was almost painful.
They walked a short distance away from her family’s curious eyes. And when they found a semi-private spot, she stopped and crossed her arms, her stare as sharp as a knife.
“Tell me what the hell is happening,” he said without preamble.
“I told you, this was just a bit of fun, and now it’s over.”
“Bullshit. This wasn’t just a bit of fun and it’s not over.” He wanted to shake her, make her listen to him. “Come on, Alice. Be honest with me. Did the bite freak you out? We don’t ever have to do that again if you don’t want to. I—” his voice cracked with emotion and he swallowed hard, staring into her eyes. Trying to convince her with his own to talk to him.
Her eyes widened a bit at that, but her tone didn’t soften. “No.” She took a deep breath. “Fine. I’m not a good liar, anyway. You want to know the truth? I overheard your phone call. It’s pretty damn obvious what you wanted from me. And you’re not getting it.”
He reached out to touch her but she stepped back, out of his reach.
She snorted. “Funny thing is, if you’d asked me, I probably would have helped you with your situation. But no. You lied to me. You acted like you didn’t want to use me for your own gain, but that’s exactly what you were after. Just like Brent.”
He gaped at her. If she’d overheard his conversation with Charles, he could see why she’d be upset. But she didn’t understand. Yes, he’d intended to use her to get out of the vampire bonding but—shit. Did it matter to her that he was only willing to do that because he cared about her? That he hadn’t intended to use her? Maybe the difference wasn’t important.
Her eyes, bright with unshed tears, stared back at him, hard for all the emotion they revealed.
He finally found his voice. “You’re willing to dismiss everything that happened between us over a half-heard conversation?”
She blinked at that, and emotions warred on her face. “Do you deny you were going to use me to get out of some sort of arranged marriage?”
The lie was on the tip of his tongue. All it would take was spitting it out. Weaving a plausible tale. He could tell her the truth later, after he showed her how much he cared about her. And unlike Alice, he was a damned good liar. But the words wouldn’t come out, and her face hardened as the silence drew out longer.
He couldn’t lie to her.
“No, but—”
She laughed, a high, angry sound. “That’s what I thought.” She took a haggard breath. “Stay away from me for the rest of this trip, Noah. We’re done.”
With that, she turned to go back to the table. He reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. But when her angry eyes turned back to him, he couldn’t find any words to explain, to make things right.
“Don’t touch me.” She pulled out of his grip and strode back toward the table.
A heavy weight slammed into his chest. He’d fucked it all up. The right words still out of his grasp, he watched her walk away.
He wandered the ship for a while, the whole place pressing against him. The garishly colored walls closed in, trapping him. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?
What should he have said? That he cared about her? She knew that, she had to. That he wanted to spend eternity convincing her how much he cared?
Did he?
Vampires weren’t guaranteed eternity, but it was damn near close enough, especially now that the faction wars had dimmed to almost nothing. Certainly, they could be killed by someone taking their heads, or by starving themselves and remaining in sunlight for a long enough period, but such things were rare. They lived in peace, policing themselves and protecting humans from the occasional rogue.
Committing to Alice wouldn’t necessarily mean eternity; vampires could dissolve their bondings, after all, even though such a thing was rare. But by saying he was willing to bond her, he had to go in fully committed. Alice deserved no less.
He made his way back to the cabin they shared without even realizing where he headed until he walked through the door. The smell hit him first—her scent. Sweet, heady, and full of newly-made memories.
The sun was bright and oppressive, but he yanked the door open and stepped out onto the balcony anyway. He inhaled a deep breath of the humid, salty air, and tried to force out her scent.
She’d let him go so easily, and his chest ached at that thought. Instead of demanding explanations, having some sort of faith that he cared for her, she’d pushed him away at the first sign he wasn’t forthcoming about everything. If she’d really cared, she wouldn’t have pushed him away.
Except—she did care. He knew she did. He could feel it every time her warm brown eyes met his. She’d just been hurt before—badly.
By another man who wanted to use her.
Never before had he wanted to tear a man’s head off so much as he wanted Brent’s.
But was that reason enough to commit to her? The idea of being with Alice forever wasn’t the fearful thing it might have once been to him. Because he couldn’t envision a future without her bright smile and bigger than life personality. Yes. He could make that commitment to her.
He ran his hand over his hair and then leaned against the railing. But for it to work, she had to be willing to take the leap with him. With how easily she’d dropped him—that didn’t seem likely.
No matter how he tried to sort through his tangled thoughts and emotions to come up with a plan, he couldn’t move beyond the hurt in her eyes, the cold expression on her face.
He had to get off the damn boat.
They were docking in Puerto Vallarta for two days before the ship would leave, head back to California. He’d fucked everything up with Alice, and she wasn’t going to listen to him. Maybe they both needed some time to think. Some space.
He stepped back into the room, then grabbed his bags and stuffed the little blood he still had in it and the rest of his things. He was okay on blood, having drunk freely from Alice the night before. A quick flight home and he wouldn’t have to worry about his food supply.
He shoved thoughts of Alice’s sweet-tasting blood from his mind. She’d made her choice. He wasn’t welcome here anymore.
But he couldn’t leave without saying something. He picked up a casino-provided notepad and stared at the small square of white paper, blank except for the cruise line’s contact information and slogan in one corner.
He stared at the paper for several minutes, his mind wrestling with his options. An angry accusation, a poem, a clever turn of phrase that would bring a smile to her face—remind her of better times? A long explanation of why he’d kept the whole truth from her?
Finally, he wrote a few short words and then folded the paper. He leaned over her pillow and inhaled her scent. His stomach wrenched at the thought of never seeing her again. Or worse, seeing her with a new bride on his arm. He set the note on her pillow.
A half-smile on his face, he took out the small glass-blown figurine he’d bought for her. It was a silly thing, something he wasn’t even entirely sure he’d bought for Alice, or just to remind himself of her.
The glass-blown sun sparkled in the sunlight that peeked in from the half shut curtains, pretty and bright and full of life—despite its inanimate nature. Alice should have it. He set it on the pillow next to the note.
Noah left the ship, pulling down his sunglasses to avoid the glare of the sun. He took a cab to a hotel near the cruise ship’s port and checked into a room. His cash was running low, so he used a credit card. Staying hidden didn’t matter much anymore. The Council had ruled. Alice had kicked him out.
Heading home and marrying some stranger was his unavoidable fate.
The hotel room door clicked shut behind him and he tossed his bag onto the lone chair in the room. Covered in colors even more garish than the ones that adorned the interior of the cruise ship, the room was depressing in its attempt at fake cheer. And it smelled faintly of cigarettes and sun tan oil, although neither scent was heavy enough to be picked up by a human nose.
Blinking against the sun, he closed the heavy drapes in the room. The near darkness was good for him, almost comforting, and he pushed down a sudden urge to tear down the curtains. He didn’t want to be comforted. Not right now, when the pain was so raw and real and he wasn’t entirely certain he deserved comfort.
He called down to the front desk and asked them to book him a flight out of Puerto Vallarta as soon as possible. They called back quickly and said he was booked on a flight departing the next morning. Then he stared at nothing, and tried to think of anything but Alice. But her eyes, her smile, the bright reflection of the sun off her hair dogged him.
The ring of his cell phone brought him out of his daze.
“Hello, Alex.”
“Noah,” Alex acknowledged. “I spoke with Charles this morning.”
“Plan’s off,” Noah said, hating the catch in his voice.
Alex paused, as if waiting for an explanation, but Noah couldn’t give him one. Not when emotion churned in his gut. If he opened up enough to let even a bit of it out, he’d be overrun with pain. Regret.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Alex said, finally. “I just wanted to give you a head’s up. Kane spoke of heading your direction to check out the plan you offered up to Charles last night. Wanted to let you know in case we couldn’t talk him out of it.”
To check out the plan—more like to check up on Alice. “Well, like I said, plan’s off. I’m flying back to California tomorrow. Tell Kane he doesn’t have to come get me.”
Alex paused, and the discomfort on his end of the line was palpable. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Another pause. “I’ll be around if you change your mind.”
“Thanks,” Noah said, and his throat tightened around the word. He was thankful Alex had called, not Charles. Charles would have pressed him for information; Alex knew to let things lie.
Alex hung up without saying goodbye.