Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

jaw clenched and his lips drew into a tight, narrow line, but he kept his voice soft. “Are you saying what we have isn’t special?”
    I was about to reach for him, but stopped myself. “No, but I can’t even tell how I feel anymore. The fact you ordered the soup for me tonight, without even asking…it’s just the last straw. It needs to be more of a give and take and less of you deciding everything for both of us.”
    He raised a dark eyebrow. “You don’t like soup?”
    I sighed. “I just want to have a say in things. Where we go. What we do.”
    I almost said, “When we sleep together,” but stopped myself. It sounded like emotional blackmail to bring up sex, or our lack of it, during a fight. And this was our first fight.
    He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “First of all, I didn’t order the soup.”
    “You didn’t?”
    He shook his head. “The chef only serves a few customers a night. He makes up the menu, and he decides what we’ll eat and drink with each course. It’s a set thing. No options. No substitutions. No complaining. There’s actually never a need to complain because everything here is superb.”
    “Oh.”
    “And I’m sorry I didn’t ask you where you wanted to go. I got into this place last minute, and thought we could celebrate.”
    “Celebrate?”
    “Our two week anniversary.”
    I put my face in my hands. “Oh, geeze. Now I feel like a real bitch.”
    He shook his head. “You’re right.”
    “I’m a bitch?”
    He laughed. “No. When something is important to me, I tend to be a little too…controlling. I’m sorry, Sam.”
    I gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry, too. Eat your soup before it gets cold. I’m sure this meal will be expensive, and I know you won’t let me pay.”
    “Of course. I can be flexible on a lot of things, Samantha Barnes, but I will not let you pay for dinner, and that’s final.”
    Dinner was fantastic, but as the meal progressed, I felt worse and worse. My head seemed fuzzy and strange, and I sneezed several times. By the end of the meal, I could barely keep my eyes open.
    As we walked back to the car, I leaned against Dylan. He kissed my forehead, and then pulled back in surprise.
    “You have a temperature.”
    I touched my forehead with the back of my hand. “I do?”
    He nodded, putting his hands on my cheeks. “And you’re flushed.”
    I sneezed. Again. “I think I’m getting sick.”
    He gave me a droll look. “I think you’re already sick.”
    I shivered so badly my whole body vibrated. Dylan turned up the heat in the car. Even though he was probably sweating, I couldn’t seem to warm up.
    “Well, this explains one thing.” I huddled in my cardigan, my teeth chattering. Dylan had tossed his jacket on top of me, too, but it didn’t help. 
    “What?”
    “Tonight. I’m always a bitch when I’m getting sick.”
    He chuckled. “Good to know.”
    I snoozed as we drove home. I didn’t wake up until the car had stopped in front of a ritzy-looking apartment building, one I’d never seen before.
    “Where are we?”
    My voice sounded strange, and I felt awful. Dylan got out and walked around the car to open my door. In two weeks, I’d learned never to open a door myself or face the fury of Dylan Hunter.
    “My place. You’re staying here tonight.”
    He put an arm around my shoulders and steered me into the foyer. I let him. It was easier than arguing.
    “Are you being all controlling again?”
    “Sorry.” He came to a sudden stop and looked down at me. “Do you want to stay with me tonight, Sam? Will you let me take care of you? Please?”
    I sighed, too tired and too sick to put up much of a fight. “Fine. Only because you said please.”
    He opened the door for me with a smile.  “I’ll remember that.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    D ylan’s apartment, tidy and elegant, didn’t look like a college guy’s place. He had a black leather sofa, actual artwork on the walls,