Caged (How Not To Be Seduced by Billionaires: Book 3) (19 page)

            I started to cry, covering my face with my hands but I couldn’t bear looking at him anymore as he continued in a ragged voice, “I…subconsciously thought it was safer to push you away before I let you love me. And then you were the one to leave me first.”

            I cried harder at the words because I already knew where this was leading to, and it hurt. It goddamn hurt so much because it was too late.

            “People see me as the billionaire---the playboy who could have any woman in the world but I knew you were
different.
You saw through the fucking façade and when I thought of that, it made me a coward. Because if you take away the money, what was left? I know that fucking boy was more man that I am.” His voice broke as if it took everything in him to admit that. “Yanna, I know if you gave him the chance he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you he was in love with you. Like I did. Like how much---”

            “
No
,” I whispered through my tears.

            He ignored that. Of course he did because he was Constantijin Kastein, and he didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He pulled my hands away, and his voice felt too close as he said with painful intensity, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I’m so fucking sorry it took me so long to realize it but---”

            “Don’t,” I choked out, finally looking at him. The brightness of his silvery gaze hurt, nearly blinding me, because it was promising and hoping for things that could have been mine, that could have been his – ours – but now it was impossible.

            I swallowed several times, trying to get past the tears, as I said, “It’s too late.”

            Constantijin froze.

            Then he started talking, fast, desperately, his beautiful face taking on a determined look. “
No.
It’s not too late. I love you – that’s all that should matter. It should fix things---”

"No it doesn't," I told him painfully. "Because I loved you and it didn't fix things, did it?"

Constantijin was pale. "
Loved
me?" he echoed hoarsely. "Wh-what do you mean?” It was the first time I heard him speaking with anything less than absolute confidence, and that hurt. God, why did this all hurt so bad?

“You don’t love me anymore?”

I could only stare at him, unable to say anything. A violent storm of emotions darkened his eyes, making me catch my breath. “Con---”

“You like
him
now? Is that it? He became your fucking Mr. Fix It for good?”

A gasp was torn out of me when I realized he knew about that, too.

“No,” I sobbed the word out because the look of betrayal on Constantijin’s hard and beautiful face was too much.

"Then what? Tell me," he said almost furiously. "Yanna, please. I’m
begging
you.” His voice lowered into a choked whisper. “Show me how to fix things. I can be…I can be like him, too.”

“Constantijin, no---” I couldn’t bear him to speaking as if he was nothing good. Because now, he was making me realize he wasn’t all that bad.

“Yanna,
please.
”

My hands went to my mouth.

“Make
me
your Mr. Fix It.”

Oh, God.

Crying so hard I couldn’t see past the tears, I fumbled for his hands, squeezing them hard. “Don’t get me wrong, Constantijin. There is no one – no other man in my life. And don’t talk about yourself like you’re nobody.” The teasing smile I gave him wobbled on my lips as I said, “You’re Netherlands’ #1 playboy. One of the Three Pussketeers. Remember?”

Constantijin answered raggedly, “Then…choose
me
.”

“I
can’t.
” I struggled past the pain as I tried to make him understand. “What you did…I know you didn’t…” God, I wasn’t making sense at all.

“Yanna---”

I said in a rush, “Constantijin, you hurt me too much, and now I don’t know if I can ever risk going back and letting you hurt me again.”

“But I
won’t,
” he argued brokenly. “I promise you, Yanna. I love you and it's for real. It won't change."

I slowly pulled my hands away. "I just need time, okay?" My shoulders lifted, expressing something I couldn't put into words. "Time and space, okay? But I'm not asking you to wait.”

The words sounded strange even to my ears. It made me imagine all those women – those millions of women who were so much more beautiful than I was, more forgiving than I was---all of them would have been more than happy to crawl into his bed to replace me.

More tears fell. I was so tired of crying, so tired of this---this long, dragged-out goodbye but I just couldn’t stop. I said in a small voice, “I’ll understand if you think I’m so full of myself, thinking that someone like you would wait for someone like me---"

            “Oh God,
no,”
Constantijin groaned and then he was hauling me into his arms. And I let him take me onto his lap, let him wrap his arms around me so tightly they were like chains again---I let him do all those because, heaven help me, I missed this – I missed
him
– too much.

            “Did I hurt you so much you started doubting your worth?”

            Hearing him speak the truth – realizing that he still understood me too well – made me feel ashamed. I started to struggle, but all I managed to do was do what he wanted. He tipped my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

"
I love you
," he repeated harshly. "I was goddamn lucky to have you and I just wish I knew that before it was too late.”

Then he slowly let me go, lowering me to the couch as he twisted around to kneel in front of me.

I wiped the tears away and managed a smile. "Thanks for telling me that," I said quietly.

He smiled back, bitterly. "It's the least I could do, don't you think?"

“I think…I think you’d be wonderful for s-someone else---”

"No!" Constantijin's voice shook. "I'll wait. No matter how long it takes. I'll make you believe that I love you and deserve you."

"You don't have to---"

"If there’s even the smallest drop of love for me inside you, if you at least do not want me to fucking die…let me think I have a fucking reason to wait.”

Constantijin gazed at me, his eyes asking a question that even he couldn’t make himself ask.

And I could only gaze back at him, unable to give him an answer.

Constantijin laughed, and it wasn't a joyful sound. "I guess I better go then,” he said almost clumsily. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes twisted his lips as he came to his feet.

As I walked him to the door, Constantijin suddenly spun around, saying hoarsely, "Just please don't tell me it's too late, Yanna. Give me a chance, okay?"

I didn't want to lie to him. "Good night,” I said softly before closing the door.

Lesson #15

Your billionaire is not the only one who makes mistakes.

It was funny really, if I thought about how much I changed. Just a few months ago, if Constantijin had ever told me that he wanted me back, I would have forgiven him for anything. I would have been happy he had said those words, be fucking grateful for it even.

            But now, Constantijin had said more than those words and it was no longer enough. Because now I was painfully sure of how much I loved him, of how much loving someone could hurt. And I just didn’t know any more how much I was willing to risk again for another shot at love.

            December was upon us when my heart started mending, bit by bit. Life at the office was slowly getting back to normal, mostly because Constantijin was no longer a volcano that could explode any second. Nowadays, he was just…
gone.

            In the rare instances I saw Constantijin I couldn’t bear looking at him. There was just too much in his eyes for me to see. He was
my
Dutch playboy billionaire, and I loved him still. But it just didn’t feel enough now.

            George’s arms stretched over his head after a particularly long day at work. It was only three in the afternoon, and yet it felt like we had been working for an eternity. With the year coming to an end, it was crunch time for Kastein Inc., and we had tons of contracts we needed to have signed, sealed, and delivered before everyone left for Christmas break.

            “I need coffee,” George said. “Want one?”

            I saved my file and got to my feet as well. “I want caffeine, too, but
not
the one from the vendo. We’ll give ourselves a treat this time and go for real coffee.”

            “You just don’t want Mr. Fix It to rescue you again,” George teased as we stepped out of the office.

            “Oh, but I’m always up to rescuing you,” a voice drawled from behind.

            George and I froze. He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug as I glared daggers at him. Taking a deep breath, I turned around and smiled brightly at Drake. He still looked boyishly handsome, eyes twinkling in a familiar way. He had also been promoted this month, which technically made him my superior – in a distant way. “Good afternoon, Mr. Morrison.”

            Drake rolled his eyes. “If you call me that one more time, you’ll regret it.”

            I let out a fake gasp. “Are you actually
threatening
me? You, the guy who’s supposed to take care of me?”

            But Drake only smiled as he fell into step beside me. “It’s still under caring for you – just in a different way than usual.”

            Did he just…did Drake just promised something, umm, inappropriate?

            When I saw his innocent smile, I wailed, “Drake!” even as George laughed.

            Heads turned as we walked past people. Most of them were women, and I had no doubt they were probably gleefully thinking of ways to kill me for being lucky enough to be with two of the company's most handsome employees. The cafeteria was unusually full that afternoon, leaving us to crowd in one of those tiny booths at the end. I ended up squeezed between George and Drake.

            When George left to buy coffee for the three of us, I had the urge to scoot away and place a few more inches between Drake and me – especially when he leaned close to me and said, “You look very beautiful today, Yanna.”

            God! The way he was looking at me made me feel naked, like he could see through my lacy black dress. It had a high round neckline, long sleeves all the way to the wrists, and the skirt fell below the knees. Unfortunately, it was also skin-tight. Could that be the reason why Drake was acting more, err, aggressive than usual?