From This Moment On
Page 12
“I had my reasons, too,” she told him. Only, those reasons had changed. Last night had been all about getting something everyone already thought she had.
This morning she didn’t care about anyone else, didn’t give a fig for what a bunch of strangers thought about her. Now her reasons were all about wanting Marcus entirely for herself.
“Even if I weren’t too old for you—”
Nicola cut him off. “We’re both adults.”
He looked at her, head to toe, and she knew he was taking in the too-big sweatshirt that went past her knees. Despite the fact that she knew she looked really, really young with no makeup on, she lifted her chin and said, “You thought I looked plenty old enough last night.”
His jaw tightened. “Last night was a mistake. And if you hadn’t fallen asleep it would have been a truly huge mistake.”
Wow. That hurt.
She had to turn away from him on the stool and scoot off so that he wouldn’t see just how bad his words had made her feel. She’d thought she was a pro at letting rejection just bounce right off her. Turned out she had a long way to go, if only a few words from Marcus could make her feel like crumbling inside.
“Nicola.”
She didn’t turn around to face him when he said her name, didn’t stop heading for the couch where she hoped her shoes and purse were. She stripped off the sweatshirt while she walked, wanting nothing more than to just leave, to get the heck out of the house and drown herself in work, the work she’d been drowning in for the past six months.
She was just bending down to pick up her shoes when Marcus beat her to them.
“It’s not your fault. Nothing that did or didn’t happen is your fault.”
She held out her hand and willed it not to shake. “Can I have my shoes, please?”
For a few seconds, she wasn’t sure he was going to give them to her, but then, he finally handed them over.
She made sure their fingertips didn’t touch as she took them from him, then sat down on the edge of the coffee table to slip them on. Somehow she was going to keep it together long enough to sweep out of the house like a woman who couldn’t care less if one man found her attractive or not. There were plenty of others who wanted her. One day, when she was feeling stupid and reckless again, she would find one of them.
“You’re beautiful, Nicola.”
She’d been certain nothing he could have said would have stopped her from stomping out of there.
Nothing but that.
“When you were sleeping last night, I couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful you are. I can hardly believe you came home with me last night.” He ran his hand over his face. “I shouldn’t be telling you that, but it’s so damn true, I can’t let you think otherwise. Last night I told myself I could sleep with a stranger and not worry about your feelings.” His eyes caught hers and held them fast. “I don’t know a lot about you, but you don’t feel like a stranger anymore, Nicola.”
A flicker of hope lit in her chest. “Neither do you,” she said softly.
This time, when she instinctively reached out for his hand, she let herself make it all the way there. She slipped her fingers through his and that contentment she’d felt when she’d woken up on his lap, with her hands in his, filled her again.
“You’re right, we don’t know each other very well yet, but I already know you make me feel good. And I also know you were the perfect gentleman last night.” She pulled herself up to stand in front of him, her br**sts close enough to his chest to almost touch. “If we gave the night one more try, then maybe this time we could see what it’s like when you’re not the perfect gentleman anymore?”
Desire flared even hotter in his eyes than it had before and she could feel the evidence of it against her lower body when she shifted even closer to him.
“I just got out of a relationship. I’m not looking for another one.”
Ah. So that was what had him going to the club last night to pick up some hot thing.
“I’m not looking for a relationship either,” she told him firmly. “I swear I’m not.” She put his hand on her hips. “Just one night to feel what it’s like to be touched by you.” She went up on her tippy-toes in her heels to gain an extra inch and be a breath away from his mouth. “Just one night to know what it’s like to be kissed by you.”
She could almost taste his kiss, knew how much he wanted to lean into her and take what she was offering. Her eyes were closing and she was puckering up when suddenly cold air rushed across her as he quickly let go of her and stepped away.
“It would be better for both of us if we didn’t go there.”
Anger and embarrassment caught her in their grip. “You don’t know enough about me to know what would be better for me!”
And, frankly, she was too pissed off now to want to tell him about who she really was. He’d just have to find out the hard way, by turning on his computer or opening a magazine and seeing the pictures in full Technicolor.
“You’re right.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “All I know is that you’re beautiful, and that you’re too young, too sweet, for me to even think about doing any of that with you. I made a mistake last night and I won’t compound it now.”
Young.
Sweet.
Mistake.
She was going to throw up.
Here she’d thought she was going to regret not getting up the nerve to ask him to be with her for the night. What an idiot she’d been, how sure she must have been that he’d jump at the chance to be with her again.
Because when was the last time anyone had turned Nico down?
Well, she wasn’t a famous pop star right now. She was simply a woman who wanted a man.
A man she evidently couldn’t have. Because all she was to him was a way-too-young, far-too-sweet mistake.
Turning from him, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag and called for a cab, giving the driver the address she remembered Marcus saying the night before. After hanging up, she was sorely tempted to storm out of the house like the little girl he thought she was. Lord knew, it would be so much harder to hold her head high like a mature woman and take her lumps.
But that was what she was going to do, damn it.
Turning back to him with a fake smile, she politely said, “Thank you for not taking advantage of me last night.”
That muscle jumped in his chiseled jaw again. “You don’t have anything to thank me for.”
This morning she didn’t care about anyone else, didn’t give a fig for what a bunch of strangers thought about her. Now her reasons were all about wanting Marcus entirely for herself.
“Even if I weren’t too old for you—”
Nicola cut him off. “We’re both adults.”
He looked at her, head to toe, and she knew he was taking in the too-big sweatshirt that went past her knees. Despite the fact that she knew she looked really, really young with no makeup on, she lifted her chin and said, “You thought I looked plenty old enough last night.”
His jaw tightened. “Last night was a mistake. And if you hadn’t fallen asleep it would have been a truly huge mistake.”
Wow. That hurt.
She had to turn away from him on the stool and scoot off so that he wouldn’t see just how bad his words had made her feel. She’d thought she was a pro at letting rejection just bounce right off her. Turned out she had a long way to go, if only a few words from Marcus could make her feel like crumbling inside.
“Nicola.”
She didn’t turn around to face him when he said her name, didn’t stop heading for the couch where she hoped her shoes and purse were. She stripped off the sweatshirt while she walked, wanting nothing more than to just leave, to get the heck out of the house and drown herself in work, the work she’d been drowning in for the past six months.
She was just bending down to pick up her shoes when Marcus beat her to them.
“It’s not your fault. Nothing that did or didn’t happen is your fault.”
She held out her hand and willed it not to shake. “Can I have my shoes, please?”
For a few seconds, she wasn’t sure he was going to give them to her, but then, he finally handed them over.
She made sure their fingertips didn’t touch as she took them from him, then sat down on the edge of the coffee table to slip them on. Somehow she was going to keep it together long enough to sweep out of the house like a woman who couldn’t care less if one man found her attractive or not. There were plenty of others who wanted her. One day, when she was feeling stupid and reckless again, she would find one of them.
“You’re beautiful, Nicola.”
She’d been certain nothing he could have said would have stopped her from stomping out of there.
Nothing but that.
“When you were sleeping last night, I couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful you are. I can hardly believe you came home with me last night.” He ran his hand over his face. “I shouldn’t be telling you that, but it’s so damn true, I can’t let you think otherwise. Last night I told myself I could sleep with a stranger and not worry about your feelings.” His eyes caught hers and held them fast. “I don’t know a lot about you, but you don’t feel like a stranger anymore, Nicola.”
A flicker of hope lit in her chest. “Neither do you,” she said softly.
This time, when she instinctively reached out for his hand, she let herself make it all the way there. She slipped her fingers through his and that contentment she’d felt when she’d woken up on his lap, with her hands in his, filled her again.
“You’re right, we don’t know each other very well yet, but I already know you make me feel good. And I also know you were the perfect gentleman last night.” She pulled herself up to stand in front of him, her br**sts close enough to his chest to almost touch. “If we gave the night one more try, then maybe this time we could see what it’s like when you’re not the perfect gentleman anymore?”
Desire flared even hotter in his eyes than it had before and she could feel the evidence of it against her lower body when she shifted even closer to him.
“I just got out of a relationship. I’m not looking for another one.”
Ah. So that was what had him going to the club last night to pick up some hot thing.
“I’m not looking for a relationship either,” she told him firmly. “I swear I’m not.” She put his hand on her hips. “Just one night to feel what it’s like to be touched by you.” She went up on her tippy-toes in her heels to gain an extra inch and be a breath away from his mouth. “Just one night to know what it’s like to be kissed by you.”
She could almost taste his kiss, knew how much he wanted to lean into her and take what she was offering. Her eyes were closing and she was puckering up when suddenly cold air rushed across her as he quickly let go of her and stepped away.
“It would be better for both of us if we didn’t go there.”
Anger and embarrassment caught her in their grip. “You don’t know enough about me to know what would be better for me!”
And, frankly, she was too pissed off now to want to tell him about who she really was. He’d just have to find out the hard way, by turning on his computer or opening a magazine and seeing the pictures in full Technicolor.
“You’re right.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “All I know is that you’re beautiful, and that you’re too young, too sweet, for me to even think about doing any of that with you. I made a mistake last night and I won’t compound it now.”
Young.
Sweet.
Mistake.
She was going to throw up.
Here she’d thought she was going to regret not getting up the nerve to ask him to be with her for the night. What an idiot she’d been, how sure she must have been that he’d jump at the chance to be with her again.
Because when was the last time anyone had turned Nico down?
Well, she wasn’t a famous pop star right now. She was simply a woman who wanted a man.
A man she evidently couldn’t have. Because all she was to him was a way-too-young, far-too-sweet mistake.
Turning from him, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag and called for a cab, giving the driver the address she remembered Marcus saying the night before. After hanging up, she was sorely tempted to storm out of the house like the little girl he thought she was. Lord knew, it would be so much harder to hold her head high like a mature woman and take her lumps.
But that was what she was going to do, damn it.
Turning back to him with a fake smile, she politely said, “Thank you for not taking advantage of me last night.”
That muscle jumped in his chiseled jaw again. “You don’t have anything to thank me for.”
