Gray leaned forward on his hips and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "Then you don't know me well enough."
She thought of him refusing to let her ride home from his house in the dark on her bike. Of the respect he had for the way she treated her family with kindness. She remembered him lying beside her in the dark last night, his big body so tense as he pleaded with her to stay. She saw him staring down at the blood on the sheets just now, looking as if he were going to cry out.
He was a hard man. But never a bad one.
"You're wrong," she whispered. "I know you very well."
"No, you don't." He looked down at the bed again.
She went over and touched his arm. His body jerked and he stepped back from her.
"Don't."
Joy frowned. "Why not?"
"Because compassion from you is the last thing I want right now."
Pain cut through her chest, draining her burst of strength. Gathering up the lapels of the robe, she said in a small voice, "I'd like to get dressed now, if you don't mind."
He cursed. "I didn't mean it like that, Joy. It's just … you don't need to be taking care of me. You're the one who got hurt."
No, she thought. They were both aching this morning.
"Are you available at three o'clock today?" he asked.
"For what?"
"To see me."
"Why?"
"Please." His eyes held hers, as if he wanted to will her into saying yes. She had a feeling it was as close as he'd ever gotten to begging.
"Okay, but on one condition."
"Anything. You name it."
"Kiss me. Right now."
Gray's eyes flared. "Joy-"
"I'm serious. I want you to kiss me."
She had no idea where this strong woman thing was coming from. But she was going to go with it.
And evidently, so was he.
Gray slowly reached out, taking her face gently into his hands. His mouth brushed over hers. Lightly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her body against his. "Like you mean it, Gray."
His eyes squeezed shut. The thick vein at his throat started throbbing from the hard pump of his blood and his lips parted as though he were having trouble finding his next breath.
Still, his touch stayed soft, his thumb stroking her cheek.
When his eyelids flipped open, she caught a quick glance of a surging, sexual burn. Then his head came down, his mouth hovering over hers without making contact. She could feel the coiled strength in him, the heat coming off of him. However conflicted his mind was about what had happened, his body was hard for her. Ready for her.
"I always mean it when I kiss you," he said with more gravel than voice.
His lips stroked hers once and then he strode out of the room.
Joy reached out for the wall to steady herself.
Frankly, she was impressed he could walk without a limp after that.
Damn it, the man had way too much self-control. And she wanted the very beast he refused to let out.
When he reappeared with her dress, he put it down on the bureau.
"May I call a car for you?" His voice was smooth as an ice cube and just about as warm. As if that incandescent moment between them had never happened.
So this is sophistication in action, she thought. Here she was quaking in a bathrobe, while he waltzed around as though the last thing he'd done was read the newspaper.
Must be nice.
"I'll get a taxi myself," she muttered.
"I'd rather call my car-"
"I'm sure you would."
He hesitated in the doorway.
She wondered what he would do if she stepped out of the robe. Would he turn away? Probably. And though she wanted him like nothing else, she didn't need to get shut down by the man.
With one last look toward the bed, he stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind himself.
She wanted to yell out that his Prince Charming thing wasn't charming. Wasn't necessary. Was driving her flipping nuts.
Joy stripped the robe off, balled it up and pitched it at the double doors.
Man, she'd learned a nasty little lesson in the last twelve hours. When people had told her reality was never as good as a fantasy, she'd believed them on some level. She'd just been unprepared for how much the real thing sucked in comparison.
She'd actually been to bed with Gray, the man she'd worshiped for years, except she was still a virgin for all intents and purposes.
And he still wanted her, badly enough to shake from it, except now he wouldn't touch her.
Great.
Just terrific.
No wonder people liked fiction.
* * *
A LITTLE BEFORE three o'clock, Joy left Cass's penthouse and went down to wait for Gray on Park Avenue. It was an exceptional fall day with warm sunshine and a cool breeze, and after having spent hours working on the red gown, it felt good to be outside. She was just beginning to relax when a black limousine eased to a halt in front of the building. Gray emerged from the rear and smiled remotely as she walked over. He didn't touch her as she moved past him and slid inside.
"Did you have lunch?" he asked, getting in and shutting the door.
"Just some crackers and cheese." She stretched, easing her back. The limousine smelled like leather and Gray's aftershave. She tried to ignore how good the combination was.
"We'll go for tea afterward at the Pierre."
She looked at her black pants and the loose black blazer.
"You're perfectly dressed," he said. "You look beautiful."
She laughed tightly. "These clothes are off the rack. Really off the rack. I can't believe you mean that."
"I don't lie. It's one of my few virtues."
"What are the others?"
"I take responsibility for my actions."
She took a deep breath and looked out the window. An awkward silence cropped up between them, growing thicker as the limousine got stuck in traffic.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"You'll see."
A little while later the car stopped on Fifth Avenue. Gray didn't wait for the driver to come around, but opened the door and stood at the curb himself. As she got out, she looked up at a towering, stone facade.
Tiffany's.
"What are we doing here?" she asked slowly.
"Come with me." He touched her elbow, ushering her through a pair of glass doors. As soon as they were inside the yawning space, a man in a three-piece suit came up to them.
"Mr. Bennett, good afternoon. Please, this way."
The only thing that stopped Joy from planting her feet and demanding to know what was going on was a fear that she was jumping to conclusions. No man, especially not Gray Bennett, asked a woman to marry him just because he took her virginity. No way. And how embarrassing would it be to blurt out that little misconception when all he wanted was her advice on a set of cuff links?
As they walked through a maze of glass cases, salespeople dressed like businessmen and women watched them, as if Gray's arrival was something extraordinary. Their smiles and nods to him were deferential. They flat-out stared in awe at Joy.
To avoid the looks, she kept her eyes on the sparklers lying in their see-through cages.
It was as though the place were some kind of jewelry zoo, she thought numbly.
When she hesitated at the elevators, she felt Gray take her hand. From then on, she barely tracked where they went in the building. She just followed along, swept up in some tide, thinking that God only knew where she was going to end up.
They were shown into a small room with a high ceiling. The furniture was minimal, but lovely, a mahogany table and three ornate, matching chairs, two on one side. A bouquet of fresh roses, in pale pinks and yellows, was arranged in a crystal bowl. The place smelled like a garden, but she wasn't calmed.
No, she wasn't calm at all. Her heart was beating like a bird's and she took her hand from Gray's because her palm was getting sweaty.
Gray indicated she should sit, which was just fine. Her knees were thinking of taking a break anyway. He took the chair beside hers, resting one arm on the table. She noticed absently that the white of his cuff screamed in contrast to the dark sleeve of his jacket.
During the ensuing silence, Joy downshifted from anxious into panic. And the suffocating sensation got worse when Three Piece came in with a thin leather box about eight inches long and four inches wide. The man flipped open the top and slid the tray forward.
Diamond rings.
She looked at Three Piece. His eyes glowed with pride at what he could offer.
Which was understandable considering you could light up a football stadium with what was shining out of that box.
"Will you excuse us?" she said to the man in a surprisingly commanding tone.
But that was the strength of insanity, she thought. Steady conviction backed up by nothing rational.
Three Piece nodded, as if she were his boss. "But of course."
While he left with a bow, she had a feeling he would have taken a swan dive out the window if she or Gray had asked him to.
Commission. Clearly on commission. And what a bundle he could make moving one of those headlights, she thought.
When the door shut, she reached out and plucked a ring from its velvet sheath. The size was substantial. Absurd. And it was one of the smaller ones.
Beneath the overhead lighting, the stone's brilliance hurt her eyes. And surely there was a hell of a metaphor in that.
"What do you think you're doing?" She didn't look at Gray. Couldn't.
"Asking you to marry me."
She shook her head, but only because she felt like she needed to do something other than start crying. Destiny seemed so cruel. To put her this close to being his wife.
"Why?" she muttered to herself. "Why are you doing this to me?"