She simply wanted this man, whose promises sounded too good to be true, to deliver on the one in his eyes.
“Connor,” she whispered, drawing her leg slowly in, and the man with it. “You make me want...”
God, she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it. All her rational thought was tangled up in the rising awareness between them, the slow glide of his touch over her skin, the need simmering between them.
And then he was off the floor, one hand moving from her leg to brace on the mattress beside her hip. The other climbing to the outside of her shoulder, so all she could do was lie back, staring into his eyes as his large body moved over her own. His knee replaced his left hand at her hip, and she was surrounded.
He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body, the wash of his breath against her jaw, the tickle of his open shirt grazing her arms. Decadent. Intimate. Too seductive to resist. Her fingers closed around the draping fabric, pulling him toward her until only the barest space remained.
She pulled again. A subtle nudge. Then a stronger tug, but all it earned her was another one of those devastating half smiles and the slow shake of Connor’s head as he reached into his pocket and withdrew her ring.
Braced on one arm and his knees above her, Connor slid his free hand up her left arm, rolling the glinting diamond band along the path of her skin until he held it poised above the tip of her ring finger, so close she could feel an almost magnetic pull from the wanting.
It would be so easy to give in. Give him what he wanted. What, on some level, she wanted too.
Let him slide that platinum band over her finger, and say yes to what would inevitably feel good in the moment, but had the potential to devastate if she wasn’t careful.
Forcing the air in her lungs to move again, she managed a single word. “Wait.”
Connor’s smile quirked suggestively. “Nervous? I promise I’ll be gentle. I’ve done this before.”
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.”
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.
Which made him wonder about some of the other things he’d believed.
“I told you honesty was important to me. We talked about it today.” And same as last night, she’d agreed about the critical importance of trust in any marriage, but especially one not based on love.
“Connor...” Megan’s voice had taken a stern edge, as though she was the one who didn’t like what was being said. “This is my cousin, and while we aren’t spectacularly close, if I show up with your ring on, no one is going to pay attention to Gail’s wedding at all. It wouldn’t be fair to her. I’m sorry, but I hope you can respect my feelings.”
Connor’s head snapped up, the lead boulder in his gut evaporating under her words.
“You aren’t trying to hide something you’re embarrassed about?”
Her head tilted slightly, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was hearing. “You mean because you’re such an unattractive, insufferable dog who’s probably going to fleece me for everything I’m worth...and I wasn’t smart enough to chew my arm off for a clean escape?”
The laughter was back, bolstered by more relief than he’d thought he could experience. “Something like that.”
Megan gave a tiny smile before turning thoughtful. Then, “I suppose, if I’m being totally honest, I am a little embarrassed about it. I mean, I made one of the biggest decisions of my life during a night when I’d drunk so much I don’t even remember doing it. But I’m not under any delusions about keeping our marriage