Of all the words that could’ve come from his mouth… What was he on about? “But you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Haven’t I?” he asked, moving forward again.
“No, you haven’t.” She shook her head. “You already apologized for our quarrel. Other than that, your hospitality has been more than adequate. I truly don’t need entertaining. You’re well on your way to making amends for the explosion, so you truly have nothing else to apologize—”
“Not even for what occurred in the last library we were alone in together?” he whispered.
Rebecca started. Her heart might have skipped a full beat, if that were possible.
Now? He wanted to speak about this now? For what purpose?
The image of Leone Teres, her perfect, plump, even lips settling into a smug smirk rose in her mind.
Right.
This was about her.
Wouldn’t want his new bride’s papa finding out the man was anything less than the perfect, proper gentleman—in the most goyishe sense of the word—he pretended to be.
Especially not with someone like her.
She folded her good arm over her chest. “I thought we were never going to speak of that?”
He stared for a moment. “I’m not sure that’s wise anymore.”
Like hell it wasn’t.
As she’d told him, discovery of their mutual mistake held far greater consequences for her. Consequences she could not afford. They would destroy all her hard-won respect, the life she’d spent somany years building. It might not be much to the likes of him, but it was all she had—all that made her herself.
“What would you like me to say?” she asked.
“Not you, me,” he told her in that irritatingly serious, almost patronizing tone. “As I said before, I want to apolo—”
Rage flooded her senses, robbing her ability to hear, let alone think. Now she was the one marching up to him.
“If you apologize for fucking me, I will leave this house immediately, snow or no snow,” she told him, poking a finger into his chest. “I enjoyed it, am no worse for the wear, and don’t regret it in the slightest.”
“Neither do I,” he said, but instead of leaving things there, he paused and frowned once more. “But what I said after was—”
“Perfectly reasonable,” she finished, annoyance shaking her voice. “Marriage and sexual intercourse are ideally linked, but not always, and it’s clear that only the latter was appropriate for us.”
Which was true and logical.
Yet the man still appeared nonplussed. “Still, I could have said it—”
“I don’t require eloquence.” She inhaled, reaching for their previous banter, despite the situation and the odd ache beneath her breast. “Though I’d have been impressed if you’d said it in Greek or Spanish,” she quipped.
He paused for a moment, staring at her once more. “I’ll do that next time,” he returned, his voice still soft. He cleared his throat. “Hypothetically. I recognize that there won’t be a next time. I endeavor for our relations to be, if not amicable, less contentious, and thus I would not jeopardize them with…”
“Animalistic urges?” she suggested.
His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, shaking his head.
“I wouldn’t have gone that far, but perhaps,” he returned with a wry smile.
“What term would you have used?” she asked.
He took a step closer, his entire demeanor returning to its most desirable and, unfortunately, most dangerous. “Lack of control, I suppose.”
