I didn't turn to face him when I said, "Won't."
A heavy pause.
"I don't understand you," he said, exasperated and angry. "I don't understand how you can be so hot for me, then turn so cold."
This time, I did face him. I whirled, glaring, pointing at his chest. "That's right. You don't understand me because you don't know me. You don't know my life. You don't know my past. I won't get involved with you, Royce."
His features softened just as the sunlight streaming in from the window hit him at the perfect angle, casting him in a glowing halo. "I know you're strong and honest and you fight for what you want. Well, fight for me."
I almost-almost, damn it-capitulated then and there. I swear, I was changing my mind lately more than I changed my underwear. Those words of his…that quiet beseeching…I don't think I'd ever heard anything quite so beautiful. He was the first person ever to call me strong. And I responded to that on a primal level.
"I can't," I whispered, and saying it was even harder than pulling away from him had been.
"Why not?" He threw his hands in the air. "Help me understand, so that I can help you accept what's between us."
How easy he made it sound. How tempting. Work through your concerns and we can be together. I closed my eyes, as one horrible fear after another flitted through me. The way men cheated and lied and lost interest in their woman. The late-night phone calls, the "business trips."
"Tell me," he said softly.
If I told him about Richard the Bastard's infidelity, I'd also have to admit to my own stupidity. My own weakness. How many times had I taken Richard back? How many times had I allowed him to treat me like garbage? Royce had just admitted he thought of me as strong and capable, a fighter. I absolutely did not want him to change his view. Did not want him to see me as a doormat.
"There's nothing to tell," I said, staring down at my intertwined hands. "I'm just not interested."
"Is this a game?" He scowled over at me. "Are you playing hard to get, trying to tie me in knots so you're all I can think about? If so, it's worked. I admit it, you're always on my mind. I dream about you, crave you constantly."
I wanted to cover my ears. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. "Don't tell me that." I shook my head, strands of hair falling at my temples. "Don't say stuff like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"I'm unavailable to you," I said, desperate to believe anything but what he was saying. Capitulation was not an option for me. Not with this man, and not about the future. Because he affected me more than even Richard had, that made him far more dangerous. "You're simply responding to the challenge. That's all."
"You're wrong. I want to marry you. And that has nothing to do with you being a challenge."
My stomach dropped. I think my vision went black for a moment. My throat closed up and all I could say was, "You want to marry me?" The words emerged as nothing more than a croak.
"Yes."
"You've only known me a few weeks, and you want to marry me?" Louder now. "You've never been on a date with me, and you want to marry me?" Louder still.
"Yes." He said it so simply, so easily. "I've dreamed about you for six months, Naomi. After Daisy Phillips' reception, I called you to ask you out. You never returned my calls. So I admit, in a moment of desperation I had my mother ask you to plan her party. It was the only way I could think of to get you in my life."
Dear God. I covered my face with my hands, trying to drag air into my too-tight lungs. A loud roaring filled my ears; my stomach cramped. What kind of sick, alternate world had I slipped into?
Things began to click into place. That day in his office, when he'd spoken on the phone about "the one," who he would win, he'd been talking about me, I realized. A merger of sorts, he'd said, meaning marriage.
"Do-do you love me?" I asked, unable to face him.
Another pause, this one heavier, deeper. Then, "Yes. I do."
"This is crazy, Royce. You have to see how crazy this is."
He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin to the side, regarding me, studying me, gauging exactly what he would reveal. "This company thrived under my father's care, yes, but I doubled its profits by acting on my instincts. They've never steered me wrong, and right now I know, know, you're the woman for me."
"You're just desperate to get married. Any woman will do."
"Is that so?" He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Then why the hell haven't I chosen one of the applicants?"
I placed a trembling hand over my mouth and simply blinked at him. Yes, I'd known he desired me-the way he kissed me was proof of that. Hell, the erection he still sported was proof of that. I'd even suspected, yesterday in my apartment, that he wanted a commitment from me. Hearing it, though, having it confirmed… This was ludicrous. Love?
"Royce-"
He cut me off with a stiff shake of his head. "Don't say no. Just say you'll think about it."
Think about it? I'd be able to think of nothing else for the rest of my life. Any decision I made would be the wrong one, and I suspected I'd always wonder what would have happened if I'd gone the other way.
"I want you in my life, Naomi, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to convince you of that fact."
His sweetness, his willingness to fight for me, beat at my resolve harder than anything else had. But- No! my mind screamed in the next instant. He's dangerous. You'll get hurt. He's a man. He'll cheat. I had to combat him, had to continue to resist, and there was only one way to do that. I couldn't think of him as Royce Powell, sexy man of my dreams. I had to think of him as simply a man, a cheating, lying bastard of a man.
"I-never-want-to-get-married," I shouted. "Never ever, ever." For emphasis, I stomped my foot. "Never!"
Unperturbed, he shook his head. "You don't mean that."
"Like hell I don't. I wouldn't get married if aliens invaded our planet and the only way to escape a deep body probing was to marry the leader. Do I make myself clear?"
"You're exaggerating, trying to push me away for whatever reason. I can still see the fear in your eyes."
"What will it take to make you realize the only way to get me down an altar is to carry my cold, dead body in a casket?"
He regarded me silently for a moment. "You're telling me you have no interest in love? No interest in a white gown, a diamond ring and a church filled with family and friends oohing and aahing?"
I nodded with determination. I didn't even have a slight pang of doubt. "That's right." Been there, almost killed myself because of that.
"You won't mind if I laugh in your face, will you? I know women, and I know they dream about a splashy wedding, about having an adoring husband and bearing his children." He held out his arms, a wide open invitation for me to peruse him at my leisure. "Well, here I am, willing to give you those things. And you still want to tell me no?"
"That's right," I said again, unwavering.
"Unbelievable." He shook his head in exasperation.
"This has all been very interesting," I said, smoothing down my skirt. "You've given me the men are from Mars example I've always wanted, so now I'll give you a women are from Venus example. I promise you on all that is holy that I'm. not holding out for a ring. In fact, I don't even want to be a bridesmaid."
He shook his head. "I don't believe you."
How could I explain it in terms he'd understand? "I do not want a man. Period. No men. Men make me sick. Men bad. Gag, gag, gag."
He regarded me, his eyes growing wide. "Wait. You don't like men?"
Finally. Contact. "No."
"Well, why the hell didn't you tell me that sooner?"
"We work together, for one thing. Personal business isn't something co-workers need to discuss."
"I didn't realize." Shaking his head again, he fell into the chair behind him. "I'm sorry."