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His surprise was some kind of balm, because it was genuine and she immediately felt foolish, and like she’d shown that she cared way more than she should have.
Her heart began to thump and her pulse was like electricity inside of her. “I don’t care if you are,” she added, the words only slightly uncertain. “You’re a free man. You don’t owe me anything. But I’m not interested in being something you do on the side. I don’t want to sleep with you if you’re dating anyone else.” She stood up, her knees wobbly, and forced herself to meet his eyes. He was studying her as though he could look at her hard enough to make sense of her.
He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to. And with her burst of adrenalin exhausted, she spun away from him, preparing to leave the room.
Only his hand curved around her wrist, holding her where she was, and then he pulled, lightly, spinning her back to face him. Her throat felt thick and aching.
“Are you saying you don’t want to sleep with me?”
Her body surged in denial of that. She dropped her gaze, staring at the thick column of his throat. “I don’t want you to use me when you’re bored,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to be one of many women you’re going to bed with. I don’t deserve that.”
“Do you think this is what either of us wants?” The words were exasperated. “Do you have any idea how hard I fought this? God knows I wish I was strong enough to keep you out of my mind, my bed, out of my life, but I want you every bit as much as you do me.” He moved forward, bringing their bodies together. Three more steps and he’d ushered her against the wall, so she was caught between it and his muscular chest.
Desire was hot between her legs, and the only sound in the room was the rush of her breathing.
“Do not pretend you can walk away from this,” he groaned, kissing her, and she surrendered to it, and him, even when her heart was aching and twisting.
“I have to.” Her kiss was a complete contradiction to her words. “I just can’t let you do this to me again.”
“Again?” He stilled, lifting his head up and pinning her with his dark, watchful eyes.
She swallowed, ignoring the warning siren blaring in her head, ignoring everything except how he made her feel. Her hands lifted his shirt from the waistband of his pants, connecting with the warm flesh at his hips. But he continued to stare at her, his expression serious. “Do what, Elodie?”
“To be just some other woman, on the periphery of your real life.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and then he took a step back, away from her, out of her hands; the separation was agony. “You were never that.”
Her eyes flashed with hurt. “You were married.”
“I don’t need to be reminded of that.”
“And you walked away from me like I meant nothing. You treated me like I was meaningless then, and you’re doing it again now. I’m here in Rome and yet you’re living your life like nothing has changed,” she bit down on her lower lip to stem the unwelcome tide of tears that was threatening.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Believe me, I am very conscious of how much my life has changed.” He stared at her but offered nothing by way of reassurance, nothing that eased the ache in the pit of her stomach. “I want to find a way to make this work, for Jack, but you shouldn’t misunderstand me, Elodie. For your own sake, you must remember what I said in the hospital.”
Remember it? The warning was burned into her brain.
“And that’s how you feel? Despite…” she couldn’t finish the sentence.
Sympathy briefly flashed in his eyes. “Yes. It’s how I’ll always feel.” And then, running his hands through his hair, he moved closer, as though he were going to touch her again. But he didn’t. He closed his eyes for a moment and then turned, leaving the room.
He shut the door quietly behind himself, but he might as well have slammed it, for how she jumped.
Christo. He glared at Rome as though it had personally wronged him.
Fire ran through his veins – fury too.
He’d been completely blindsided when she’d accused him of sleeping with someone else. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might construe his evening out as that – a date – and yet, naturally she had. If she’d done a recent google search of him she’d know he was no stranger to the company of women – though his exploits were generally over exaggerated by a scandal-hungry media.
It wasn’t unreasonable for her to presume he was still dating.
No, that wasn’t why he’d reacted the way he had.
It was in response to his instincts – instincts that had wanted to reassure her, to explain, to tell her he wasn’t seeing anyone else, that he had no interest in seeing anyone else.
The fact that was true was all the more reason for his panic.
He slammed his laptop shut and stood up. It was past eight – he’d chosen to work late rather than face the music, but now it was time to undo the mistakes of that morning.
