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The soft sound of her movement must have caught his attention. He turned, and what she saw on his
face made her want to cry. Because it wasn't love and happy ever after. It was bitter regret. Anguish,
almost. She knew without his saying anything that she'd failed miserably.
"Get dressed," he said quietly, moving toward the door. "It's going on midnight.
We'd better get back."
She didn't look at him. She couldn't. She sat there with her head bowed as the door closed gently
behind him.
Like a sleepwalker, she pulled on Lila's jeans and sweatshirt. They were loose on her, but it didn't
matter. Her high heels would have to do for shoes. Lila's feet were much bigger than her own. She
looked in the mirror and felt sick. She looked like a tart on the town. Her mascara had run, and her
mouth was still slightly swollen from Cameron's passion. There was a mark on her throat that was
unmistakable. She found her purse and combed her tangled hair over the bruise, hoping no one would
notice.
Her hand trembled as it found the doorknob. She felt sick all over, burning up with regret and fear and
self-contempt. She vaguely remembered whispering that she loved him. How was she going to face
him? How was she going to go on living after tonight? Doubt and worry tore her apart. If she'd ever
had a chance with him, she'd thrown it away tonight. How could she have been so.. .so... wanton?
She avoided his eyes as she clutched her purse and joined him in the living room.
"Ready?" he asked carelessly. If she had looked, she would have seen that his eyes were anything but
careless.
"Yes."
She followed him out the door, shamefaced, her head bursting with pain.
It wasn't until they were in the car again that she felt his eyes watching her. She looked up, and he said
something rough under his breath when he saw her face. His own was pale, his eyes bitter and cold.
Chapter Nine
He drew in slow, deliberate breaths, and his eyes held hers relentlessly.
She averted her face. "Do you hate me for what happened?" she asked quietly. She laughed bitterly
even as his lips were forming a reply. "Well, don't worry, money man, you couldn't possibly hate me
any more than I hate myself right now. It must have been the wine. I'm sorry I didn't realize what it
was doing to me."
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his eyes dark with pain and regret as they studied the glowing tip.
"So am I," he said after a minute. "You didn't use anything, I gather?"
Her eyes closed. "No."
He drew in a slow breath. "I suppose you realize..."
"If it happens, I'll cope," she said tautly.
"How?" he demanded, running an angry hand through his hair. "Oh, God, what a mess!"
Tears were rolling silently down her cheeks, tears he couldn't see because she'd turned away from
him. She hadn't dreamed it would be like this, that she'd feel this emptiness afterwards, that passion
could turn to bitterness so soon.
"Could we go back to the lake?" she asked after a minute, her voice husky but controlled.
"I'd rather we hashed this out first. It's something we can't talk about in company."
He made it sound like some sordid episode that would blacken his name forever.
Perhaps he even felt that way, she thought. The tears grew hotter, more profuse.
"I'll have to leave immediately," she said after a minute. "I'll get my father to call and I'll tell your
mother there's an emergency at home. It will be the best way. She's far enough along now that I can...
Cameron!"
He'd jerked her face around, and his jaw tautened as he saw the tears staining her cheeks. "Oh, God,
honey...!" he whispered achingly.
"I did it," she reminded him. She backed against the door, her lower lip trembling, her eyes brimming
with more tears. "It was my fault. You don't have...a thing to feel., .to feel guilty about. There had to
be a first time, didn't there?"
He sighed heavily, angrily. "You told me once that the only way you could give yourself was in love,
and forever. Remember?" he asked bitterly.
She swallowed a sob and turned her eyes away. The joke was on him. She had given herself in love.
But he wouldn't know that, because she couldn't tell him. Her eyes closed.
"I only want to forget,'' she whispered.
His face contorted. He reached for the ignition. "I hope it's as easy as you seem to think it will be," he
said shortly.
"Yes, I imagine you do." She laughed, brushing away the tears.
His eyes darkened. He glanced at her. "What do you mean?"
"Your mother told me. About your financial woes." Exhausted, she huddled down in the seat.
"Cameron, don't you know that if you marry for money, you'll never be able to live with yourself?"
"I'm not marrying for money!"
She searched his hard face, saw the flashing anger in his eyes. "No? What else has Delle got that you
want?''
He turned away. "You'd better fasten your seat belt."
"Don't treat me like a child!"
"Then stop acting like one," he growled, glaring at her. "My life is my affair."
"Fair enough," she told him. She turned away and fastened her belt with a snap.'
'Consider my interference ended, permanently."
He put the car in gear with a glance in her direction. "I'd hoped we might iron things out tonight, solve
a few mysteries," he said. "The one we solved wasn't what I had in mind, however."
"Is there any other?" she asked, trying to keep the thought of his lovemaking buried in her mind. He'd
been so tender, so ardent...
"Your past," he replied. His eyes glanced toward her. "I had a talk with James Dunfey before I took
that last glass of wine away from you."
She froze. "Did you?" She studied her hands in her lap. "What did he say?"
"That you were incognito and he wasn't telling me a damned thing. Then he grinned and told me all my
financial woes were over if I had you in my pocket." His face hardened. "It made me mad as hell.
That's why it was so easy to seduce me, little rich girl," he added with a hard glare at her shocked
face. "I was knocked off balance already. Having you come at me without your clothes on was just
enough to give you the edge. I didn't have a chance in hell."
Her teeth ground together. Damn Dunrue! "Did he tell you who I am?" she asked.
"No. He said you'd do that in your own good time," he replied. He sighed roughly.
"Couldn't you even trust me that much? For God's sake, am I that hard to talk to?"
She tossed back her unruly hair with a rough hand.' 'I had a bet with my father that I could get an
ordinary job and not revert to type," she said through her teeth. "Men only like me for my money, you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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