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“I can’t do this, Blair.” He rolled onto his side, looking at her.
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Still staring at the ceiling, Blair battled tears. She would not cry. She wouldn’t. So she clung to her anger at herself for forgetting who he was—who he really was. “We already did do this.”
Now that the urgency had been curtailed, had he realized she wasn’t his usual fare? Was that the problem? Had her generous hips and bosom, the fine stretch marks that marred her lower abdomen from carrying Addy turned him off? Had her enthusiasm for his touch bothered him?
“It’s not that I don’t still want you, Blair. I do.” He reached for her, but she pulled back.
She couldn’t deal with him touching her. Not at the moment. Not when her body still sang from repeated orgasms. Not when she was so aware of every breath he took. Not when he was rejecting her and her pride freely bled.
What if he’d only had sex with her out of pity? If he hadn’t had the heart to reject her after what she’d revealed about her past?
Darn it, she didn’t want his pity.
“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Their friendship? Surely he wasn’t going to play the friendship card? If she’d been honest with herself, she would have admitted from the beginning that they couldn’t be friends. She hadn’t wanted to be honest because she’d wanted an excuse to be near Oz.
Because she’d been attracted to him for years, but it had only been this trip, seeing him take care of Dr Talbot, that she’d realized Oz’s depth, and the depth of her desire.
He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the golden tufts ruffled. “I value you too much to take you to bed for cheap sex.”
Blair tried to keep from wincing, but failed.
Cheap sex. That was all she’d been to him?
Just like Chris.
“That came out wrong,” Oz recanted, scooting up in the bed. She forced her gaze not to rest on his bare chest, to ignore the scattering of hair that tapered to disappear beneath the sheet.
Even now, so soon after they’d made love—had cheap sex—desire stirred in the pit of her belly.
She hated herself for it.
Cheap sex.
Humiliation washed over her. She wasn’t going to let anyone embarrass her again. Not the way Chris had.
She held up her hand. “Look, you really don’t have to do this. We got caught up in the moment and forgot that we barely tolerate each other under normal circumstances. I was still high from watching Springsteen and just got carried away. I know what we did was nothing more than sex.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say cheap sex. She just couldn’t. Not without bursting into tears.
There hadn’t been anything cheap about the way she’d felt in Oz’s arms. She suspected the price she’d pay would be quite high.
“I’m leaving, Blair.” He stared at her, his eyes a steely-blue. “I don’t know when, but I will leave. To pretend otherwise would be wrong.”
“I didn’t expect you to stay. Not because of this.” She hated the guilty expression on his face. Hated that he felt he had to explain himself. It wasn’t as if she thought he was madly in love with her. She knew he wasn’t. After all, this was Oz. He didn’t do love and commitment. He did “cheap sex.”
So why did her heart protest? Why did her heart argue that Oz could love her? That she was lovable? That what they shared was so much more than cheap sex? Fool, didn’t she ever learn?
“Blair.”
She could hear the strain in his voice. She even knew why he was making sure she understood.
Oz loved Dr Talbot and didn’t want anything to upset their friend, didn’t want anything to mar his last days.
She knew exactly what she had to do. The only thing she could do.
She reached over the edge of the bed and retrieved her Springsteen T-shirt from the floor. She pulled it over her head, grateful for the barrier between them. The sheet just hadn’t been enough. Not when she knew Oz’s well-defined naked body lay beneath it, too.
