She made herself retch. She also made herself get up off the floor when she heard him leave the studio. Forced herself to brush her teeth and wash her face, though the latter seemed rather moot. She was still crying and the red blotches on her pale skin had already done their damage.

Stomach not settled but at least emptied, Pippa found herself back in the bedroom. On the bed and staring blankly at the rumpled mess they'd created with their lovemaking, wondering miserably at the way things had gone from being so right to so, so very wrong. He was gone and she felt hollow.

He never did get a look at the Red King.

That brought a new round of vision blurring tears to the fore and Pippa buried her face in the pillow that still smelled of Rory. Maybe they'd never understand each other again, never learn how to listen to one another in any way that mattered ever again.

How could he have thought she'd be happy like this?