Chapter 17

In Derick's private wine cellar, crystal glasses caught and refracted the amber glow. He had already emptied half a bottle of Macallan, yet the bitterness in his throat lingered. The memories that alcohol couldn't dull only grew sharper. "Idiot," he muttered into the empty air. It was uncertain whether he meant the Adrianna of his past life or himself for repeating the same mistake in this one. When his glass ran dry again, a low, humorless laugh slipped out. How ironic. In this life, he had planned to quietly stay by her side, waiting for the day she might finally turn and see him. But fate had other plans. She did turn back, only to be carrying the guilt of a past life. "Derick Ashford, you really haven't learned a thing." He tilted his head back and drained the last of his drink, the bottom of the glass striking the marble counter with a dull thud. A cold hand suddenly closed around his wrist. Derick turned to find Adrianna standing behind him, though he had no idea when sh