Page 168 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

“But you are safe here.”

“I’m not so easily flustered, and I didn’t realize I was in any danger.” I met his eyes and held them. “What am I safe from, exactly?”

A shadow crossed his face. Subtle, but unmistakable.

“From poor decisions.”

My fingers tightened slightly beneath the table.

Poor decisions.

Marrying Goran. Loving Goran. Choosing Goran over this arrogant prick. No, I had made no poor decisions.

Julian reached for his wine glass.

“I understand attachments can be difficult to sever.” He chose his words carefully. “But some relationships are not designed for longevity.”

My heart thumped hard under my ribs.

“Are you saying we won’t last long? Wouldn’t that make you the bad decision?”

Julian froze, wine glass half way to his mouth.

Silence settled around the room. Everyone went still, waiting to see what might happen next.

My father’s voice cut through the air.

“Kaylani, I’ve had quite enough of your attitude.”

I glared at my father, my blood boiling.

“That’s okay, Dimitri. I like that Kaylani speaks her mind.” Julian’s smile returned, but there was ice in it now as he leaned a little closer. “And no, I was not referring to our upcoming marriage.”

I took a sip of my water to ease the burning rage inside of me, but it didn’t help. “Oh? Well then you’ll have to excuse me. I don’t know who you’re referring to.”

Julian smirked as we verbally jousted.

“I wasn’t meaning anyone in particular, just your old life in general. But, I’m sure you’ll find that Mallorca is very peaceful. Especially when one cooperates.”

There it was. Not a threat per se, but a subtle warning wrapped in silk.

Saying nothing was the politest thing I could do in this situation, so I stood.

“Oh, my dear, dessert hasn’t been served yet. Are you leaving,” Isadora asked.

“I’m afraid so. Maybe I am overwhelmed after all,” I said, shooting Julian a look.

My father rose and placed his hands on the table.

“You’ll sit back down and remain here with your betrothed, or our deal is off.”

Pulling in a long breath, I forced a calm that I didn’t feel.

“We’ll speak in the morning about appropriate behavior. I’ll return in a moment,” he said and walked out.

As a girl, I’d never imagined a day when I could hate my father. Our relationship had always felt special to me, like whatever quarrels he had with my brothers were simply men being men, and we were different. That was naïve.

How could I have been so blind?