Once Upon a Rose(88)

The touch, gentle and apologetic, eased through him somehow, from that burning streak across his cheek down toward his chest and into his heart. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, did you?”

“Of course not!” she said, horrified at the idea.

No. Of course not.

“I was just scared,” she said. “I didn’t know who you were yet.”

“Right.” He stroked his hands up and down her arms.

“Just some stranger in the dark when I was out here all alone, you know?”

“No.” He didn’t know. He’d never been afraid of strangers in the dark. But with her in his arms like this, their size difference was so obvious that he could kind of understand. He sure as hell wouldn’t like to be the small one in this scenario, with nothing to keep her safe but the morals and decency of a stranger she couldn’t control. He wouldn’t like to be the one exposed to the world’s mercy or lack of it.

“Bouclettes,” he said very gently, adjusting his arms to cradle her as completely as he could. “Is there something you should tell me about your music career?”

She went very still. And then her head slumped. Right against his chest. She didn’t say anything at all, but she wrapped her arms around him and held on, like she didn’t mean for him to let her go.

He liked that so much that instead of growling at her, he found himself petting her hair. This was pathetic. How could a man expect to protect himself if he couldn’t even stay properly mad over being lied to? “Damien told me. There are pictures of us all over the web.”

She lifted her head, blinking. “Of us?”

“‘Did Belle Find Her Beast?’ You know, the usual.” He shrugged as if he didn’t give a crap about that kind of thing. Which he almost didn’t. Obviously, he wouldn’t mind punching a few people who wrote copy for those sites or possibly some paparazzi, but that didn’t count as giving a crap, did it?

“The usual?” she said blankly. “I’ve never been on a celebrity gossip site before except once when there was a red carpet shot of me for the Grammys.”

“Well, there you go,” he said very dryly. “I’ve upped your visibility.”

“Because you dated Nathalie Leclair.” She sat abruptly away from his body, shaking his arms loose to scowl at him. “You could have warned me about that!”

His jaw dropped. “Now how the hell was I supposed to warn you when I didn’t even know who you really were? It wouldn’t have been an issue if you were just Layla Dubois. Besides, when was I supposed to mention it? ‘God, it’s so much nicer eating in this restaurant with you than with her’? That would have gone over well.”

She shoved away from him so hard she hit the headboard and made him wince at the impact on her. “You took her to the same restaurant?”

“See?” He opened his palms. “I told you it wouldn’t go over well.” And he was a damn idiot for proving his own point, too. He should have kept his mouth shut on that one. “It’s the best restaurant in the area,” he said. “One of the best in the world. She wouldn’t put up with anything less, and you deserved the best I could give you.”

Her lips parted. She hugged her knees to her chest. “Oh,” she said very softly, as if he’d said something right.

Wait a damn minute. How had he ended up being the person in the wrong here, trying to work his way back into being in the right? She’d lied to him. “You—”

“Did you make love to her in the same place, too?” Her mouth had gone very sulky. She tightened her hold on her knees.

Well…he glanced down at his bed and back up at her. She looked like a woman who was never going to let him get her naked again. Damn it. Date one damn supermodel in your life and the consequences pursued you forever. “This is a really terrible subject of conversation. Let’s talk about you lying to me instead.” Let’s talk about this trip to New York you have in three weeks, and whether you’re coming back here after it.

“I didn’t lie to you!”

His teeth snapped together. “Layla. You didn’t even tell me who you really are.”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t tell you the name I use when I perform, but I definitely told you who I really am. That’s who you make me feel like—me.”

Well…hell.

His heart had gone so mushy it was pretty much liquid, dripping in some stupid mess through his fingers, impossible to keep together. This was completely and utterly unfair. “Layla,” he said helplessly.