“Wait.” She tapped the driver and the man turned to look over his shoulder.
“He’s not going with me.” Carly gestured toward Mike.
“The hell I’m not.”
A wide grin encompassed the older man’s face. “Me, I don’t care where we go or how long we sit. The meter’s running.” He patted the metal box. As if on cue, the digital numbers increased.
“I’m in no rush.” Mike shrugged and leaned back in his seat.
She groaned but remained silent. Raindrops pelted the windshield and the cabdriver began whistling.
Mike slicked back his hair with one hand. This was one battle of wills he couldn’t afford to lose. He needed the chance to explain. More important, Carly needed to be with someone who cared.
He glanced at his watch. The meter ticked off another fare increase. The driver switched tunes. Over the off-key whistling, Mike heard a clicking sound and turned. Carly huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around herself, shivering, her teeth chattering. She pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes with one hand before wrapping her arms around her wet body once more.
He muttered a harsh curse and repeated her address aloud.
The driver looked at Carly. “Miss?”
“Just go,” Mike said through clenched teeth.
The man glanced over his shoulder at Carly again and she nodded. He swiveled back in his seat and placed the car in gear, jamming his foot down on the accelerator.
Mike looked at Carly and held out his arms.
“Either you’ve lost your mind or your ego is bigger than I thought.” She curled into a tighter ball.
He let out a groan, reached over and pulled her into his embrace. She tried to squirm free, but he held on tight. “Save your energy to argue with me later,” he said. “Right now we’re both wet and freezing. If you don’t want to come down with pneumonia, take advantage of my body heat.”
Heaven knew he was taking advantage of hers. Every breath brought with it her unique scent, and her soft body had begun to relax, molding to his.
“I’m only doing this to keep warm,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “I know.”
“I’m still angry.”
He leaned his chin on the top of her head. “I know that, too.” And a confrontation was sure to follow.
* * *
After towel-drying her hair, Carly wrapped herself in an ivory terry-cloth robe. The hot shower had warmed her body but not her heart. She felt ice cold inside. Ironically, heartache wasn’t the problem.
She’d already broken up with Peter, already accepted that caring couldn’t replace love when he’d blundered into his admission. And though he’d shocked her, Mike’s silence hurt worse than anything Peter had done. Her ex-fiancé had merely wounded her pride and convinced her that she’d been going through life with blinders on, in more ways than one. She pulled the lapels of the lace collar together at her throat, drew a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom.
Mike stood in front of the credenza that provided a makeshift bar. He’d changed out of his wet clothes. He wore the large gray sweats she’d lent him, a towel draped around his neck... and nothing else. Her gaze was drawn to the muscles in his back and upper arms.
The strength in his body seemed as prevalent as the strength in his character. Another misguided perception, she thought. He too had betrayed her.
The rational part of her rebelled at the notion. The emotional part, the part that had been humiliated tonight, clung to the possibility. A confrontation with Mike was inevitable. Today’s encounters were like a flood after a lifetime drought.
He turned, drinks in hand. “Here.” He held out a brandy snifter. “I think we could both use this to warm up.”
After accepting the glass, she walked away from him. “You knew.”
“Yes.”
She admired his honesty. She just wished it had come sooner. Carly closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. How could the confirmation of something she’d already known hurt so much? She pushed up the sleeves of the oversized robe. “That’s something, I suppose.”
“What is?”
“At least you didn’t lie this time.”
He grasped her arm and swung her toward him. His eyes bore into hers. “I never lied to you.”
The heat of his fingertips seared her skin, branding her and making it difficult to remain focused. “What would you call it?” she asked. “A tiny omission?”
“Yes.” With a groan, he released her. “Put yourself in my position. Where would you find yourself?”
In the middle, she silently conceded.
“I did the only thing I could. I pushed with the knowledge you already had and hoped you’d come to the right decision.”