Baby By Accident(68)

“Lise.” One long arm raised and slashed down as if he were trying to cut the cord of sexual desire tying them together. “I can’t—”

“I want you.” The words rushed out, attempting to stop his clear rejection. Fear leaped through her courage and threatened to win the day. Except she’d come this far, gone this deep, dared this much. “Vico, I—”

“No.”

The rejection thrust through her, causing a yawning slice of pain.

Then his jaw tightened as his gaze fell and the pain stopped.

She knew instantly.

This wasn’t a rejection of her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. For once, she trusted her instincts. She trusted her knowledge of this man—the tautness of his muscles, the tilt of his chin, the flex of his hands. He wanted her. So what was his problem? “Why not?”

“Dio.” His hand swept through his tousled hair, sweeping it back over his broad shoulders. “Isn’t it apparent?” he gritted. “The baby.”

She still didn’t understand. Was he being overly cautious? Hadn’t he heard the doctor correctly? “The doctor said it was—”

“That is not the problem.” His words were filled with agony.

Without thinking, she stepped to the bed and sat by his side. Lifting her hand, she slowly slid her palm across the rasp of hair on his jaw. He flinched, as if her touch burned him, and she dropped her hand.

But the rejection didn’t hurt anymore. Now it made her curious. “Then what is the problem?”

A tense silence fell. Only his harsh breath filled the air. Finally, he lifted his head and met her gaze. His eyes were no longer brimming with lust for her. Nor were they wary of her. Regret and guilt dulled the golden glints, hazed the green glow.

“Vico.” She had to touch him again. Her hands lifted to smooth across his cheeks. Trying to comfort him even though she didn’t understand. “What is it?”

“What I did was wrong.”

“When?” She frowned in frustrated confusion.

“That day.” His mouth grew grim. “In my office.”

Her frown deepened. They’d had so many confrontations in his office, she found it hard to sort out which one pushed him to reject her. “What day?”

“The day before you almost lost the baby.”

The stark words cut through her confusion like a fine blade. This? This was why he’d treated her like a fragile piece of glass he had to guard rather than a woman he desired? Obviously, yes. This was why he’d touched her only when he had to and then only for brief moments. This guilt was what had kept him from acting on what was so vivid and vital between them.

“Vico.” Leaning in, almost touching her nose to his, she stared straight into his eyes. “Do you mean the sex we had?”

His lips twisted. “Sex? Is that what you’d call it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, wishing it was more, but willing to accept what he could give. “Passionate, amazing sex.”

Jerking back, he placed his hands on her arms and pushed her away. “No, it wasn’t.”

Her hands dropped from his face at the rebuff and instantly, her determination crumpled. He hadn’t thought it was great sex? Was she still the Ice Queen no man could want warming him, wanting him?

She yanked away, ready to slip off the bed. But before she could escape, his hands grasped her again, stopping her.

“I can’t trust myself around you,” he muttered. “I can’t control myself.”

His tortured words stopped the hurt inside her in a flash.

He wanted her desperately. The need flooded his voice.

Courage welled once more.

Not once had she thought of their passionate encounter as the reason for her near-miscarriage. She’d known exactly who to blame when she’d awakened in the hospital. Herself. Her stubborn pride and stupid need to prove herself. To prove he was wrong. That was why she’d almost lost her baby. Yet clearly her husband had been hauling around a load of guilt so large he’d managed to lose his mind under the weight of it.

Time for this to stop. “What happened that day was wonderful.”

His hands fell back onto the cashmere duvet with a wrench, as if the touch of her was all of a sudden too much for him to handle.

“It was.”

“I was an animal.” His gaze was now hot with anger at himself.

I loved it. I love you.

Why couldn’t she make herself say the words? Some of the old Lise lingered and held fast to her fear of giving everything of herself to him. She wrestled with herself, tried to push the confessions out, but they kept sticking in her throat.

“You see?” His hand flared out, expressing the disgust in his voice. “Your silence says it all. I was a savage.”