Her eyes closed as she once again found herself relieved by his sense of humor and ability to lighten the mood without undermining the seriousness of what was at stake.
Finding more breath, she whispered, “We can’t. Not yet.”
“Why not? We’re already married.” His voice dropped lower as he lightly teased the diamond band around the tip of her finger. “I can tell you want it.”
Yes, right then, she did. But wearing his ring meant giving up her plans. Giving up the security of a future she could control completely. Giving up a promise she’d made to herself...for the chance of something so much more.
Connor was poised above her, his sharp gaze studying her every minuscule reaction. Hesitation. Blink, blush and tremor.
Tentatively, she placed her free hand against the center of his chest. His bare skin was shades darker than her own. Hot. Firm. Tempting her toward reckless action just to ensure she had more time to enjoy it.
But that simply wasn’t who she was. If he knew her at all, he would understand.
“I’m not ready. I’m not sure I can give you what you’re asking for.”
A nod. Then, “Wear it anyway. You’re still my wife for now. Why not try the whole package on for size and see how it feels?”
Her gaze drifted over to the band of diamonds so close to sliding home. Each flawless stone throwing off light in all directions. It was exquisite.
Nothing could compete with this ring.
Swallowing once, she peered back up at Connor, who waited above her, the possessive intent in his eyes making her ache to give in. But she couldn’t do it.
“It’s probably better if I don’t.” Trying to match his lighter tone, she curled her fingers into her palm and dodged, “And about this whole being-married thing. I was thinking we might not mention it. Let everyone think I’m just a cheap floozy rather than the honest woman you’ve made me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
CONNOR SWALLOWED, his body going still. “You don’t want them to know.”
Guileless eyes met his. “I’d prefer they don’t.”
And then she was wiggling out from beneath him. Crawling off the bed from one side as he backed off from the other, returning the ring to his pocket.
Megan stood in front of the bureau mirror frowning at the few hairs out of place from their brief roll in the sack. They had to leave soon, and considering he’d actually hired someone in to sculpt her hair into perfection, it made sense she’d be trying to fix her look.
But suddenly all he could see was a woman concerned with her image, and for the first time he wondered if he didn’t really know her after all.
He shook his head. It couldn’t be right.
“I thought you didn’t lie.”
It was the quality in her he appreciated above all others. It was important to him.
One brow shot high as she turned to meet his eyes. “I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I walk around regurgitating every personal detail of my existence without prompt. I’d prefer you not bring it up, because seriously, no one is going to ask.”
A lie of omission. Well, that was irony.
He knew all about them. Had been one for the first decade of his life and had sworn never to be one again. And yet here he was, married to a woman making a dirty little secret of him from the start.
Freud would have a field day with this.
Okay, so it wasn’t as though he’d discovered Megan stowing the ring in her car’s ashtray while she hit the bars. They’d been married for less than twenty-four hours, and she wasn’t even certain she wanted to wait another twenty-four before filing for divorce. But still, her not wanting people to know rubbed him in all the wrong places. Partly because one of the first things to attract him about her was the way she owned her life. Her actions. She wasn’t making excuses or apologies or even taking the easy way out of an explanation. In the few hours he’d known her before he talked her into changing the plan for both their lives, she’d made him believe in who she was. How she lived. And this—this secret didn’t fit with that.