Her mate wouldn’t find her lacking.
The phone rang, cutting through her morose thoughts and making her wince at the shrill sound. Pushing herself up with a groan she grabbed the receiver.
“Fated Match, pairing mates together since 1704.”
“Chloe.”
Her body went from sluggish to alert with that one word, spoken in a voice she recognized all too well.
“Kieran,” she said. Her instincts demanded she slam the receiver down, but logic stopped her. She could play this cool. Be an adult. So he’d turned her down. She could rise above and be mature. Couldn’t she?
“You were gone when I woke today.”
“Early shift,” she replied, not wanting to admit she’d set her alarm so she could avoid bumping into him in the kitchen. Last week she’d enjoyed the domesticity of getting ready for work together, watching Kieran making them breakfast while she’d prepared the tea and coffee. Today, though, she’d wanted a chance to lick her wounds before she saw him.
“We need to talk.”
That was the last thing she wanted to do. No doubt he’d be kind, explaining exactly why this was a bad idea for their charade. She’d nod along, all the while knowing if she’d been Candy or any one of his other nameless lovers he would have taken her every which way, until neither one of them had the strength to move.
“We can do that at home,” she said. “I’ll be back by seven or so.”
“And leave you spinning worst-case scenarios in your head all day? I’m not a dumb man.”
She sighed, leaning back in her chair. He wouldn’t let this go. Fine. She could handle it. “What do you want to talk about? I’m busy.”
The one lone file on her desk mocked her. Vivian had taken one look at her sorry, hungover self and banished her to her office with barely anything to work on.
“Last night…”
“I told you alcohol was a bad idea.”
He snorted. “It was a brilliant idea. You never would have told me the things you did last night. Not without dating for far longer than we have been.”
“And you wouldn’t have mentioned Lisette,” she snapped. “It’s not as if you’re any more open about your thoughts than I am.”
“I don’t regret our confidences.”
No, just stripping her body bare. “Then why are you calling?”
“I want to apologize for what came after.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Even though she’d seen it coming, it still hurt that he regretted the fiery embrace that was imprinted on her brain. He’d told her that he’d been looking for her and then pushed her away, all in the space of minutes.
“Apology accepted.” Her tone was harsh even to her own ears. She wanted this conversation over.
“You’re getting things twisted again, aren’t you?” He sounded amused. The bastard. “Sweetheart, I’m only apologizing for pushing you away. I didn’t want to take advantage of a situation you’d regret this morning.”
“Convenient excuse,” she said. “Just call things as they are. We were on track for what I thought would be some pretty epic sex and you lost interest.”
His snort of derision mocked her. “Is that why I’ve been hard as iron all day?”
“Your own fault.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I let things get out of hand. Whiskey or not, I should have stopped everything the moment you climbed on top of me.”
Her cheeks heated at the reminder that it’d been her actions that started them on the path to the awkward conversation they were now engaged in.
“If we’d had sex last night, how would you have felt today?”
She wanted to say she’d have been perfectly fine, but the words died on her tongue. In truth, she would have berated herself for her poor decision. She would have cursed the alcohol she’d drunk, and probably cursed the wolf in her bed for taking advantage.
“You would have regretted it, Chloe. We both know that.”
“And you cared about that so much you restrained yourself?” she asked, her words dry.
“Yes, that is exactly what happened.”
She blinked. “You don’t walk away from things you want, and you’ve been trying to get me into bed since I first moved in.”
“I told you things were different with you. I meant it. When you finally yield to me, witchling, you’re not going to have anything you can blame for your decision other than lust.”
A flare of hope sparked to life within her. He sounded sincere. If he was telling the truth, then he cared about her. Far more than she’d suspected. Cared enough to protect her from herself, even when it went against his desires.