Country Roads(95)

Her answering smile was tentative and brief. Warning bells went off in his brain.

She eyed him for a long moment before she took a deep breath. “Why don’t I stay?” she blurted out. “There’s no reason I shouldn’t. I mean, the sex is fantastic and we enjoy being together, so why should we stop now?” A blush turned her neck and cheeks a deep rose. “If things change between us, we can end it.”

For a selfish moment he thought of a whole procession of days with Julia in his bed, her flaming hair spread across his pillow or his chest like a banner, her green eyes lit by laughter or dazed with arousal, her smooth, creamy skin warm under his hands. The word yes nearly forced its way between his lips.

How could he explain to her that he would never want to end it, so it was kinder to do it now?

He thrust a hand through his hair, trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t hurt her. “You’ve got places to go and people to meet way beyond Sanctuary, West Virginia.”

She squared her beautiful, bare shoulders. “I can do that later. I want to spend more time with you now.”

“Sometimes it’s better to quit while you’re ahead.”

He saw her flinch and felt like a heel, but he had to nip this idea in the bud.

“The sex is still great so we’re still ahead,” she said, before she gave what she undoubtedly thought was a worldly shrug. “When it isn’t great anymore, we’ll say good-bye.”

He would have laughed if he didn’t feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. “Sweetheart, the reason the sex is incredible is because of our feelings. Neither you nor I are the kind of people who find casual sex satisfying. There’s something more between us.”

“Exactly!” She pounced on his words like a terrier on a rat. “Let’s see where it takes us.”

He braced his hands on the mattress to shove himself fully upright against the pillows. She was sinking the talons of regret deeper and deeper into his flesh. “It will only make the inevitable that much worse.”

Her lower lip quivered and she sank her teeth into it.

“That came out wrong.” He stretched out to take her hand, thinking of the skill that lay in the fingers he held. “What I meant is I can’t leave here because of my brother and Eric. You need to leave because your talent demands the scope of the entire world.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “As it is, I hate the thought of you leaving after I’ve known you only ten days. How do you think we’ll both feel after six months or a year?”

A sob wrenched itself from her throat. He had to consciously restrain himself from pulling her into his arms and telling her he didn’t mean any of it.

“M-maybe I won’t want to leave after a year. Or two years. Maybe I’ll decide to stay. I can paint anywhere.”

“Have you ever been to New York?”

Triumph flared in her eyes. “Yes.”

“How old were you?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Eleven. But I’ve been to Madrid to visit my parents several times since they moved.”

“What was it like to be there?”

“Thrilling. Inspiring. It gave me new ideas about color and composition.” Resignation laced her voice as she told him the truth.

Her honesty nearly undermined his self-control. She could have lied and said she found it dirty and noisy, but she’d refused. He’d never admired another person so much in his life. “You did me the honor of telling me the truth. I owe you the same.” He released her hand and fisted his in the bedclothes. “Much as I want to, if I agreed to let you stay, I would hate myself. It would poison our relationship sooner or later.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I don’t believe that. If we—” She stopped and slid him a look he couldn’t read. “If we fell in love with each other, neither one of us would care where we lived.”

He felt as though someone had slammed him against a brick wall. She thought she was in love with him. Then he got slammed a second time, even harder, as he faced a reality he had been shoving away: he was head over ass in love with her. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

“What?”

He took a deep breath. “You said you hadn’t had much experience with sex, so you may be confusing a really good orgasm with something more.”

“I’m not that stupid,” she said, her body rigid at the insult.

“Hear me out,” he said, holding up a hand. “I have a fair amount of experience; I know how to make you feel things you haven’t felt before. It might color your view of me, make you think I’m something I’m not.”