His Purple Heart

35 - Too late to apologize

"We're going to call it a night, dear," Trystan's mother said as we walked back into the mansion. She stretched her turkey-like neck, green eyes similar to Trystan's searching the crowd for her husband. "We hope Trystan invites you to dinner very soon, and bring your mother, we would love to meet her."

She hugged me and I was left standing on the dance floor alone. Now it was my turn to look around for Trystan. I spotted him stalking toward me, a determined look on his face and my heart melted just a little.

He was so handsome, it hurt. Even when he had that serious look on his face – his war face. It was his sexy walk, the slight hiccup whenever he moved his right leg. It was the fierce and intense fire burning in the emerald depths of his eyes. It was the way he looked at me with so much desire and pure adoration.

I lifted the hem of my dress and practically ran to him, throwing my arm around his neck. He grabbed me around my waist, taking a deep breath as if inhaling my scent before pulling back and cupping my chin, his grip firm.

"Debra, are you trying to stop my fucking heart?" he asked, his tone gruff.

I blinked. "What?"

"Where have you been? You can't just disappear like that without telling me. There's a crazy person out there who wants to hurt you." He leaned in and kissed my temple. My heart fluttered, unable to resist anything Trystan.

"I know that," I said as I touched his clean shaven face. "I just went for a walk with your mother, and besides, this place is guarded like a prison."

"It's not safe."

I sighed. "I just want to let my guard down for one second. Ever since some crazy, dumbass idiot broke into my apartment, I've been on edge."

"I know. I haven't had a good night's rest in what feels like weeks." He ran his hand through his hair causing a lock of hair to fall forward on his forehead and I noticed how tired he looked. The laugh lines around his eyes were deeper, the green of his irises dimmer than usual.

"Is that why you leave in the middle of the night sometimes?" I asked quietly.

"You know why I leave. I'm not hurting you again, and keeping a safe distance between us at night is the only way to assure that." He kissed me chastely on the lips before taking my hand and leading me toward the back of the mansion.

"You haven't had a nightmare since Canada."

"I'm not taking any chances, Debra. And I don't leave every night. Just some nights." He looked annoyed, but I didn't care.

"I'm just trying to tell you that I don't like being left alone," I whined, not recognizing my own voice.

"Baby, I can't do this right now."

I sensed immediately that something was off. Trystan was unusually tense and gruff and he could barely look me in the eye. He was up to something and it wasn't something good. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I didn't know where to start so I decided to drop it for now. I would save the serious talk for later when we got home.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, following him down an empty corridor to a set of sturdy looking double doors. "I don't need any more surprises, Trystan. You've been so good to me the past weeks."

"We're going to the library," he said casually, too casually.

"To have sex?" I asked, anticipating his next move because Trystan wasn't a reader to be honest and sex was almost always on his mind.

He laughed softly. "No."

"No sex? Hmm. Please tell there's an original Picasso hanging on the wall and you plan on stealing it for me."