Prince of Shadows by Susan Krinard

“And exactly who is this friend of yours? What is he to you?”

He spoke casually, but she could tell he wanted an answer. Part of her wanted to tell him that Kieran was her lover, to prove to him that she’d been found desirable to other men. But she’d never been good at lying.

“He’s a fellow researcher. Why does it matter?”

“Because you need more than some… colleague with you at a time like this.”

“You don’t need to trouble yourself—”

“Is that what you think it is? Trouble?” The floorboards vibrated with Peter’s footsteps. “You have every reason to despise me, Alex. I was incredibly stupid back then. I’ve regretted the way it happened every day of my life—”

“Now is not the time, Peter.”

“You need someone with you now, someone who shared what we did. Alex…” He touched her arm, very gently. Incongruously she remembered that dream of Peter that had ended with the discovery of Kieran in her bed. Some bizarre premonition. She felt wildly like laughing and caught hold of herself with every scrap of sanity she had.

“I may be a poor excuse for comfort right now, and I would have given the world to see you again under other circumstances—”

She turned on him. “You never came to End me, either.”

Peter blinked. Stray hair had fallen over his forehead again, but as if to prove his earnestness he left it untidy. “I made some mistakes. I did some things I’m not proud of. But I’m here now, and I care about you. I never stopped caring.”

Was he right? Was he right about her father, too? That he would have welcomed her back if she’d gone home? Accepted her? Loved her?

You never wanted to see Father again, she thought. Now you have your wish.

“That’s why I’m staying in town,” Peter continued. “I want to be here for you.”

She looked at him—through him, a detached part of herself still separated from anger and grief. So breathtakingly handsome, Peter, with his blond hair and perfect tan and even white teeth, a body honed by swimming and tennis and carefully regulated workouts in his private gym.

It had been so easy to fall in love with him; he was the opposite of everything she hated in herself. Perfect where she was flawed; accepted where she was rejected, utterly certain of himself.

He still had that certainty, and she was lost.

“Have you forgiven me, Alex?” he said.

In a few seconds she relived that last terrible argument, the parting that had taught Alex her own worth in Peter’s eyes. Right after she’d heard her father’s damning words.

You can’t ever talk to your father again, she told herself. Never. You can’t ever undo it. But Peter’s here…

“You married,” she said. “You found the life you wanted. We—” Her throat closed. “We made our choices.”

Choices. Peter’s priorities had always been clear; at least he’d been honest about that in the end. It had been Alex’s choice to abandon the plans she and Peter made after the parting with her father. Her decision that had forced Peter to shatter her illusions.

Peter looked away. “Some of them were the wrong choices, Alex. Terribly wrong. It didn’t work out with Bev.”

Bev Del Valle. The woman he had finally married, who’d had the money to shore up the faltering Schaeffer Industries, and perfect beauty to match. But now Peter’s voice was so sincere, so filled with regret.

“We… divorced, Alex,” Peter continued. His fingers covered hers. “I couldn’t stop loving you. I thought I’d convinced myself, but—”

“You convinced me,” she whispered.

“I know I deserve that. I was so obsessed with taking over Dad’s work, getting the company running again… it blinded me, Alex. I couldn’t see what really mattered. By the time I did see, it was too late. You’d left, and I’d married Bev. But it wasn’t right. Not for either one of us.” He touched Alex’s hair. “It took me a while to work things out with her. But when your father died, I knew I had to come.”

Alex couldn’t move, even when he began to stroke her hair with a tenderness she didn’t remember in him. “Peter—”

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