sending her temperature into the danger zone.
Half an hour later, when loitering drove her to screaming pitch, she exited her room. She found him prowling her living area like a caged panther.
He stopped in midstep, taking in her new outfit. Or her old one. The cream skirt suit with a satin turquoise blouse was…adequate. Even with stilettos and a purse coordinating with her blouse, it was nowhere near glamorous. But it was the only outfit she’d kept from her corporate days. Her wardrobe now consisted of a minimum of utilitarian clothes. Otherwise she would have never picked this suit. It was what she’d worn to her job interview with him. What she’d gone out with him in when he’d insisted on not wasting time changing. Fate was conspiring for her to take part in his déjà vu scenario.
She couldn’t tell if he remembered the suit, since that devouring look he’d had since they’d met again remained unchanged.
Before he could say anything, she preempted him. “In case you find this lacking, too, tough. This is my one and only ‘momentous occasion’ outfit. You’re welcome to check.”
“It is a ‘momentous occasion’ outfit indeed. If only for being…nostalgic of one.” So he remembered. Figured. He had a computer-like mind. Their time together must be archived in one of his extensive memory banks. “But we must do something about your wardrobe deficiencies. Your incomparable body must be clothed in only the finest creations. The masters of the fashion world will fall over each other for the chance to have your unique beauty grace theirs.”
She just had to snort. “Uh…have you been diagnosed with multiple personality disorder yet? Incomparable body? Unique beauty? What do you call the persona that thinks that?”
He started eliminating the distance between them, intent radiating from him. “If I never told you how I find you breathtaking down to your pores, I need to be punished. Which you are welcome to do. In my defense, I was busy showing you.”
“Yeah, before you showed me the door, and told me how interchangeable you found me with any female who wasn’t too hideous but meek and willing enough.”
“I lied.”
His gaze was direct, his words clear, cutting.
Disorientation rolled over her. “You—you did?”
His nod was terse, unequivocal. “Through my teeth.”
“Why?”
His lids squeezed, before he opened them, his gaze opaque. “I don’t want to go into the reasons. But nothing I said had any basis in truth. Let’s leave it at that.”
“And to hell with what I want. But then, you’re getting what you want no matter what I desire or what it costs me. Why do I keep expecting anything different? I must be insane.”
He seemed to hold back something impulsive. An elaboration on his cryptic declarations?
But she needed something. Anything. If what he’d said to her, the words that had torn into her psyche like shrapnel all those years ago, had all been lies, why had he said them? To push her away? Had she been clinging so hard that he’d panicked…?
No. She wasn’t rationalizing that son of a bitch’s mistreatment. There was no excuse for what he’d done to her. And now he was doing worse. Reeling her closer even as he pushed her away. Confounding her then leaving her hanging. Depriving her of the stability of hating him, the certainty of why she did.
His eyes were blank as he took her coat from her spastic grip, disregarding her bitterness. “We’ll have dinner first.”
She sullenly let him help her on with her coat, moving away as his arms started to tighten around her. “You’re not worried about putting cutlery in my reach?”
His gaze melted with an indulgence that hurt and confused her more than anything else. “I’ll take my chances.”
“You really expect me to eat after…all this?”
“I’ll postpone serving dinner until you’re very hungry. By then, I also hope your appetite for food will overpower that of poking me in the eye with a
Daniela Fischerova, Neil Bermel