“The third?” Hugh asked.
Rowan froze. It was about the pictures of her and William, of course. And why had she ever admitted tothreethings? Damn. “My style,” Rowan lied. “It’s lacking, apparently.”
Hugh set his glass next to Rowan’s and moved to stand directly in front of her. Her knees touched the top of his drawstring. He placed his hands on either side of her body, palms flat on the marble top. “Your style is impeccable. Try again.”
Rowan attempted to gauge his mood. Did he know about the pictures and assume, correctly, that Diana would bring them up. “Tell me, Hugh, what occupied your day?”
“Golf, picturing you naked, and you kissing William Stanton.”
Notavoiding the big issues. Noted.
“Do you love him?”
Hugh’s body appeared to double in size, swelling and surrounding her. Rowan inhaled, centering herself. She’d done nothing to be ashamed of and, in fact, she was the one who had everything to be pissed off about.
“Why do you care, Hugh? You told me, with all the clarity the English language allows, that “we” would never be a thing. So, why the sudden interest in my love life?”
“Love life?” Hugh growled.
Rowan held her ground, but Christ Almighty, the temptation to wrap her legs around Hugh’s waist and pull him tight, was tempting.
She chose not to answer and gave the infuriating man a taste of his own medicine. Silence. Hugh placed his scorching hot palms on her thighs, giving each a squeeze. When he started rubbing his thumbs in circular motions, a gasp escaped.
“Are you in love with him? Please tell me,” Hugh begged.
Rowan couldn’t deny Hugh anything. Not really. Not ever. “No.” A whoosh of breath escaped his mouth, his body pressed closer.
“Thank Christ,” he whispered.
“Why, Hugh? Why now when I’ve finally started to move past you? Will wants to fly me to Houston next weekend. I’m considering it.”
“No.”
“You can’t just tell me no and expect me to obey. You’ve tried to keep me all to yourself for as long as we’ve known one another. You’ve also left me incredibly lonely and sad,” Rowen confessed.
Hugh’s hands slid up her thighs to grasp her hips. “I know.”
Rowan watched as Hugh’s broad chest expanded as he took a deep, shuddering breath. Her truth was hard for him to hear, but he wasn’t denying them. “You can’t give me hope—you can’t ask me to give up a man who might make me happy.”
“I’m asking, damn it, Row, I’m asking,” Hugh’s deep voice boomed.
The pleading in his voice almost undid Rowan. Almost. He’d yet to explain…anything. “My answer will be no, and I’ll walk out that door and not look back if you won’t tell me why! Why are you pursuing me now? Why are you touching me?” Rowan felt near tears.
“Let go of me, Hugh. Let me stand. Give me space.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hands from her waist and stepped back. She stood, and with a hand that was less than steady, Rowan picked up her drink, swallowing Slane before breathing out a fiery breath in relief. She’d needed a different type of warmth filling her chest.
Stoic Hugh was sexy. A trembling, emotional Hugh was destroying. He was clearly fighting a battle with himself. He’d asked her to come over so he could explain, but within a few minutes, he’d reverted to his trademark guttural grunts. At least he wasn’t touching her. She couldn’t think with his hands on her body.
Rowan finished her whiskey and set the empty glass down with a finality that made Hugh flinch. Pushing away from the bar, she began to walk to the front door. Without looking back, she quietly said, “Goodnight, Hugh.”
One second her hand was reaching for the door’s handle, the next, a seething giant was pressed against her back, both of his hands reached above her head to ensure the door stayed closed, which proved how exhausting and unpredictable Hugh O’Faolain was.
Rowan didn’t try to force the issue of leaving, nor did she ask him to explain himself. She would give him a few minutes to sort his thoughts and if he still wasn’t capable of communicating them, she would leave, and she wouldn’t allow him to stop her.
Taking his hands from the door, he gently placed them on her shoulders, making her body shiver from the contact. He turned her around. Ignoring his gaze was impossible. “Come to the living room and sit. I want to explain.”
“Do you? Really?” Rowan raised her brows in question.
Hugh took one of Rowan’s hands, leading her toward a soft looking white couch. He sat and pulled her down beside him. When she was situated, she was sitting at a slight angle from Hugh’s body so she could give him all her attention.
