“Because I thought we could both do with some space.”
“Space?”
“Yeah, you know. A large area with no one in it. My own room, with my own things, for example. Where some guy isn’t always checking up on me and I don’t have to lie to anyone about going out to lunch every day with my boss.”
The simmering anger licked up inside him. “I don’t want you to go.”
Her mouth opened. Then shut. Then she put her hands on her hips. She was wearing another pencil-skirt-and-blouse combo, with the most shockingly high stiletto sandals. Her hair was loose today, tumbling over her shoulders in a glorious golden fall. The princess turned businesswoman. Beautiful.
“I’m sorry, Luke, but whether you want me to or not, I’m going.”
Luke couldn’t keep still. He rounded the bed, wanting to close the distance opening up between them. “This is because of lunch, isn’t it? Because of the rules?”
“What if it is?” She reached for the hairbrush that sat on the dresser. “Like I told you on the phone. I’m not one of your routines and I sure as hell don’t want to be your dirty little secret. It’s not good for you and it isn’t good for me.”
The anger licked higher. “Those rules are important to me. I’m the CEO, I can’t bend them. I thought you understood.”
“Sure, I understand. It’s about control, isn’t it? Control over your damn company.”
“I can’t afford a slip, Marisa.”
“Why not? “ She waved the hairbrush at him. “You’re the boss, Luke. You made the rules. Which means you can break them, too.”
Of course she wouldn’t understand.
Because you haven’t told her.
His hands were in fists, tension gripping his muscles tight. He knew he had to tell her. But now was not the time. Not when she was so angry. Not when she was on the point of leaving.
Yet he had to say something. “I can’t break them,” he said curtly. “I’ve already bent them by continuing to sleep with you and I can’t bend them any further. There’s a reason my company is so successful, Marisa, and you’re right, it’s because I’m in complete control. Because I’m rigid. It’s a formula and it works for me. I don’t want to mess with it.”
A long silence fell.
Marisa sighed, the anger dying out of her eyes. “I can understand that.” She fiddled with the hairbrush in her hands. “I just don’t like being your secret. It’s like being Alistair’s mistress all over again. Like…” She stopped.
“Like what?”
Her gaze met his. Then she said, her voice cracked. “Like I’m not important.”
The expression in her eyes broke the paralysis that had been gripping him and he moved. Closed the distance between them, pulled the hairbrush out of her hand, and tossed it on the bed, not bothering to check where it landed. Then he reached out and took her lovely face between his palms, looked down into her blue eyes. “If you weren’t important, Marisa Clair, I wouldn’t have broken those rules in the first place.”
“Oh sure.” Her gaze flickered. “But now I’ve become merely a routine to you. I mean, that’s why you were angry at me for being late, right?”
“No. the reason I was angry was because I was looking forward to seeing you and I was disappointed you weren’t there.”
…
Believing him was hard. As though she was conceding something she didn’t want to. Allowing him a piece of her she didn’t want to give up. It was easier and far less threatening to believe she wasn’t important to him.
His hands were warm against her face, his gaze intense, focused. He wanted her to believe him. But she couldn’t let herself. Because then she’d have to admit her own feelings. The frightening ones.
“Really?” she said, unable to keep the sarcasm from leaking out. “It’s really me you wanted to see?”
“Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“Why would I accept it? We’ve both acknowledged we don’t like each other, that the only reason we’re here living together is for the baby’s sake, and because we can’t seem to get our hands off each other.”
“What if I changed my mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I told you I was wrong? That I do like you? That I think you’re funny and loyal and kind. And generous. And interesting. You’re complicated, Marisa. And I like complicated.”
“I’m not complicated. I’m a silly blonde who’s made a mess of her life, nothing more.” She tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. “Let me go, Luke.”