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“Really?” Emma picked up the picture and studied it. Seeing her looking at the picture made him feel...understood somehow, though he couldn’t figure out why.
“Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat?” He asked her. “Maybe a drink? Some wine?”
“Is that what you tell all the girls you bring back here?” Emma joked, but the joke fell a little flat. There was too much jealousy in her voice.
“I don’t invite anyone here.”
Emma glanced up sharply.
“Not since Sasha,” he said. “Wine?”
She nodded. He went to the kitchen and pulled out an expensive Pinot from his wine rack. She stood, uncertainly, as he popped the cork and poured two glasses. She rubbed her arms and stood awkwardly in the center of his living room. “Maybe coming here...it was a mistake.”
He froze, midpour. “What do you mean?”
Emma frowned. “Maybe I should go.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMA SUDDENLY FELT CLAUSTROPHOBIC. Being with Xavier at his home, she felt closer to him than she ever had before. Plus, she still felt rattled about what nearly happened. Her fingers tingled still, the echoes of adrenaline. All she wanted was to be warm and safe, and yet nothing about Xavier felt like either. Not when he seemed so dead set against a relationship with her.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said, putting a glass of wine in front of her on the light granite countertop. She studied the wine.
“I’m so thankful that you saved me, but being here, near you, it’s hard.” It felt even harder to admit. I care about you, she wanted to shout. Hell, I’m falling in love with you. Being close to him but knowing that he wouldn’t be faithful felt like a knife slicing through her heart. She was almost tempted to readjust her standards, try to work around his lack of commitment, but she knew, in the end, she couldn’t. She wanted a man who’d love only her. She’d tried no commitment, but it just wasn’t for her. She wanted more.
“Is it?” Xavier put down his own wineglass and moved closer to her. “Is it hard to be close to me?”
Emma felt her resolve melting now that Xavier was close enough to touch. She wanted to put her hands on his strong, flat chest, wanted to touch him. Even after everything she’d been through that evening, even with the aftershocks of adrenaline still thrumming in her veins, she felt the pull to him, the irresistible tug.
“I think we should talk,” Xavier said. Emma glanced up into his hazel eyes, studying her in the low light of the dimmed kitchen. She swallowed, almost fearful of what he’d say.
“You don’t have to explain.” I’ve heard enough, is what Emma wanted to say. I know all about you, about your limits.
“I want to, though. After I left your place this morning, I...” He paused and took a sip of his wine. “I met a girl. On a train. I went back to her place.”
Stricken, Emma froze, her hands clutching the edge of the granite countertop, suddenly feeling like it was the only thing holding her up. She imagined a beautiful woman leading Xavier into her bedroom, a scene probably repeated dozens of times, if not hundreds. She felt so unwanted then, so lacking. They’d had sex just the night before and then the very next day...he needed someone new? Of course women would fawn over him. Look at him, and yet, the fact that he accepted her invitation just made her feel a cold, base rejection.
“What then?” Emma’s voice was low, barely a whisper. She’d asked the question, but she was almost positive she didn’t want to hear the answer. She didn’t want to hear about how he’d pleasured this woman, given her the best comes of her life, how he’d then come himself. Maybe in her mouth. Maybe inside her.
“All I could do was think of you,” he admitted, eyes solemn as they met hers. “She wanted me, wanted to do things to me, but all I could do was think of you.”
While you were fucking another woman, Emma thought bitterly.
“Did you make her come?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “We only kissed. When I kissed her, I knew that she couldn’t give me what I wanted. No one could give me what I wanted. No one except...” Xavier put down his wineglass and walked around the kitchen counter, now standing right next to her, so close, she could almost hear him breathing. “You. I want you, Emma Allaire.”
She breathed in deeply, the spicy sweet smell of him, and felt a burst of hope light in her chest. “What are you telling me?”
He turned her to face him, and gently stroked her cheek.
“I’m falling in love with you. Actually, I’m in love with you already, Emma.”
