“You don’t know,” she snapped back. “You’ve never been married. I have. And I won’t go through it again.”

“So.” Struggling with temper, he rocked back on his heels. “This husband of yours hurt you, makes you unhappy, so you think I’ll do the same.”

“Damn it, I loved him.” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hand as the tears began to fall.

Torn between jealousy and misery, he gathered her close, murmuring endearments as he stroked her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Let me understand.” He tilted her face up to kiss the tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I won’t yell at you anymore.”

“It’s not that.” She let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please, let this go.”

“I can’t let this go. Or you. I love you, Sydney. I need you. For my life I need you. Explain to me why you won’t take me.”

“If there was anyone,” she began in a rush, then shook her head before she could even wish it. “Mikhail, I can’t consider marriage. Hayward is too much of a responsibility, and I need to focus on my career.”

“This is smoke, to hide the real answer.”

“All right.” Bracing herself, she stepped away from him. “I don’t think I could handle failing again, and losing someone I love. Marriage changes people.”

“How did it change you?”

“I loved Peter, Mikhail. Not the way I love you, but more than anyone else. He was my best friend. We grew up together. When my parents divorced, he was the only one I could talk to. He cared, really cared, about how I felt, what I thought, what I wanted. We could sit for hours on the beach up at the Hamptons and watch the water, tell each other secrets.”

She turned away. Saying it all out loud brought the pain spearing back.

“And you fell in love.”

“No,” she said miserably. “We just loved each other. I can hardly remember a time without him. And I can’t remember when it started to become a given that we’d marry someday. Not that we talked about it ourselves. Everyone else did. Sydney and Peter, what a lovely couple they make. Isn’t it nice how well they suit? I suppose we heard it so much, we started to believe it. Anyway, it was expected, and we’d both been raised to do what was expected of us.”

She brushed at tears and wandered over to his shelves. “You were right when you gave me that figure of Cinderella. I’ve always followed the rules. I was expected to go to boarding school and get top grades. So I did. I was expected to behave presentably, never to show unacceptable emotions. So I did. I was expected to marry Peter. So I did.”