His kiss and demanding touch destroyed her will to resist and for a change, she did as she was told without second guessing his intentions.

20: Killer Instincts

Before heading home, Elsa needed to make a pit stop in the restaurant to use the ladies room. She had just stepped out and slipped her arm into Victor’s when they rounded the corner and ran straight into Nate.

When he saw her intimacy with Victor, his face turned a deep scarlet. Dark and hot, his eyes narrowed, and his gaze locked onto her face. She had never seen his temper rise so quickly or seen him work so hard to keep it in check. Her eyes darted between Nate’s and Victor’s as dread and shame swirled all around her. While Nate appeared livid, Victor appeared smug. When Nate took a step toward her, Victor’s stance widened and he pushed her behind him in a protective manner, silently challenging Nate to take action.

Before that happened, she pressed past Victor and grabbed Nate by the wrist.

He swiftly yanked out of her grip and pointed at Victor. “Is he the reason you broke off the engagement?”

Her stomach dropped when she saw Victor’s body jerk as if he had been slapped. Her winning hand had just been exposed.

She stared up at Nate, speechless. She wanted to walk out, run out, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him again. If she had just been honest with him the night she found out about his connection to Victor, she could have spared him all those long weeks of suffering and not knowing why she had abruptly broken things off.

Facing him, she still didn’t know how to explain her and Victor’s bizarre relationship. There wouldn’t even be any point in trying. He would never understand. No one would. Things had been over for weeks with Nate. He was already seeing other women. What did it matter what the reason was?

It mattered. She knew it did. And Nate deserved answers.

Gently taking his hand, she pulled him to a corner of the restaurant so they could speak privately.

Guilt rolled through her like hot lava as the silence stretched between them. It hurt too much to look at him, but she forced her eyes to remain on him and to face what she had done.

"Do you love me?" It was a question she had never had the courage to ask him before. Her heartfelt words elicited nothing from Nate. Not a shimmer of his eyes, not a sway of his body as if deliberating the question. Nothing. Only silence and sad, liquid, blue eyes stared back at her. "You can't even say it, yet you wanted to marry me?"

"You don't love me either, but we're compatible,” he answered with only the slightest hint of emotion.

And there it was – the thing she had known all along. He had finally owned up to not loving her, even if he hadn’t stated it. He had finally said out loud what the sad reality of their relationship was.

Tears of regret pricked the corners of her eyes. "You're right. I don't love you. But I want more than compatibility, Nate. I deserve more and so do you. I want love. I want that overwhelming feeling of helplessness and hopefulness that comes from being in love. I want passion."

His body stiffened defensively. "So you're saying I'm passionless?"

She shook her head, hating the dejection she saw in his eyes. "I'm saying our passions and desires are different."

In typical Nate fashion, he changed the subject to something, anything, that didn’t involve the word love.

"That man is trouble,” he pointed in Victor’s direction. “Everyone except you, knows that.” She knew. More than anybody. “There's a reason he never has a girlfriend. There’s a reason he’s never been married. Think about that the next time he's fucking you passionately.”

It was the first time she had seen Nate speak about something so full of feeling. It pained her to see him hurting, but this thing between them was over. She had already returned his ring and there was no turning back.

“And when he's done with you, feel free to go fuck yourself full of passion, and don't ever think about calling me again,” he spat out.

He waited for her response, but she gave him none. There was nothing more to say. He was allowed to be angry with her. It had never been her intention to hurt him, though she knew she had. No, she wouldn’t be calling on him again. Someday he would find a woman whom he would fall in love with and one that he didn’t just feel he was compatible with. She hoped he would.

She deserved love too, but somehow it always seemed to slip out of her reach. She could’ve learned to love Nathan… eventually, but now their situation was irreversible and Mr. Black was to blame. However, she knew Mr. Black wasn’t the only one at fault. She made the choice to play the game again, fully aware of the consequences and the fallout that would inevitably happen. Her hand hadn’t been completely forced; just coerced.

***

Elsa belonged to Victor. She always had. From the very first day he heard her voice in the pub. Nathan had only been on borrowed time with her. That man should consider himself lucky that he was allowed the time he had with her.

Victor watched with bitter jealousy as they talked in hushed tones in a secluded corner of the restaurant. Was he begging for her to come back? Was she agreeing?

His stomach churned and his chest tightened. All along she had been lying to him about their engagement. All along she had led him to believe that she was planning a life with another man and that when the game was over, she would fall back into Nathan’s arms.

If only he had paid closer attention. If only he had stalked her. If only he had… He gulped loudly and sighed irritably at himself. She knew not having told him about her broken engagement gave her power over him. How the fuck did she know that? Was he really that easily manipulated? He had shared his secrets with her while the entire time she was hiding the biggest one of all. But for how long had she been lying?

When he saw Nathan exit the building, he strode to her and spun her around to face him.

"Why didn't you tell me you had broken up with him?"

With glassy eyes, she looked past him. "Because it was none of your business."

His angry retort barreled through him. "I've been spilling my fucking heart out to you night after night, and you didn't think I should know that?"

"No, I didn't,” she finally glared at him. “Thinking I'm engaged has kept you at arm’s length, which is exactly where I want you to be."

"Arm’s length?” he laughed sarcastically. “I’ve been buried inside of you for weeks now.” Elsa’s cheeks brightened and she opened her mouth in rebuttal, but he swiftly cut her off. “When did you end things with him?” He needed to know for his own sanity how long she had been deceiving him.

She stared silently at him for several long seconds, then cleared her throat. “The night I found out you had a hand in setting us up.” Bitterness laced her words. “The same day you made a promise to let me live my life uninterrupted if I played your game.”

Since the very, fucking, beginning. Once again, her feminine façade had hidden her killer instincts well.

Disgusted with himself for not having seen through her lies, he felt his face heating in a blush. “Why did you break it off?"

Her hands fisted at her side. "Because I decide who to be with; not you. I may be a lot of things, including stupid for ever having fallen for you, and even more ignorant for agreeing to play your damned game again, but the one thing I am not, is a cheater."

He stared back at her in stunned silence. She was winning. Again. Always one step ahead, always out-fucking-maneuvering him…. He would never win this game with her. Jesus fucking Christ, he'd be lucky if it was a draw.