He wasn’t a jealous man. At least, he never had been in the past. Before last night, he would have said he didn’t have a jealous bone in his body. But he’d gone nearly insane wondering what Kristin was doing with Steffan last night. He’d acted like a possessive fool when she’d shown up this morning. Because he’d been afraid of losing her, he’d nearly proposed marriage. After what she’d done to him ten years ago. After all his vows to himself to watch his step. And despite having a brand-new girlfriend, about whom he’d completely forgotten. His relationship with Veronica really was more about him wanting sex and conversation—and her wanting a powerful connection to a Benedict—than anything else. He hadn’t broken up with her before he started sleeping with Kristin because, well, he hadn’t expected what had happened between him and K to happen. He’d gone to K’s hotel room that first night on impulse, not knowing whether she would let him in or not. Although, to be honest, he hadn’t given her much choice in the matter.
