"But…" He hesitated here. "Did tonight change your mind?"
I tried not to cringe, tried not to scream in horror. I couldn't handle this, not right now. I'd told Kera and Mel this would happen. Damn it! Why couldn't he have waited until tomorrow?
When I didn't answer, he rolled over and braced himself on his elbows. He gazed down at me. "I want to marry you. You know that."
"I told you before, marriage is not for me."
Slowly he eased off the bed. "Tonight didn't change your mind?"
"No."
"We're amazing together." He tangled a hand in his hair. "You can't deny that."
"Maybe not." Despite the renewed roaring in my ears, the new bout of dizziness in my head, and the sick, cramping feeling in the pit of my stomach, I managed to remain calm. "But I'm never going to change my mind. Not for any reason."
He leapt into a fast back-and-forth pace, and his muscles rippled beneath his skin with every movement. "Have you already forgotten the way you clung to me, the way you moved beneath me and screamed my name?"
"Just because we had sex," I told him, "doesn't mean we need to-you know." I didn't even want to say the word. It was as foul to me as the B word. My heart was already pounding against my ribs and the ringing in my ears was growing louder.
"What do you have against marriage? "
Everything. "It's not for me, that's all."
"It could be." He softened his voice; even his gaze softened as he stopped and regarded me. "We're perfect together, sweetheart."
I tried not to shudder. "No. I'm sorry."
"Help me understand." His pacing renewed. Step by step, his feet sunk into the plush rose-colored carpet. And step by step it was clear his determination intensified. "Help me understand what's brought you to this point. Please."
The ringing reached a fevered pitch, and my next words exploded from my mouth. I couldn't stop them. "You really want to know? Well, here it is. My ex-husband didn't get the memo about fidelity. He preferred other women, and lots of them. He professed to love me while he nailed everything that breathed. Maybe I could have written that off as Richard's depraved moral character and the fact that he's a male whore, but I can't write off my stepdad. He's a decent, hardworking guy and he's cheating on my mom. I will never willingly give my heart to another man only to have it thrown back in my face. How's that for an answer?"
By the time I finished, I was huffing. My hands were shaking. And Royce wore an expression of utter shock. I tried to calm myself down with a few deep breaths, tried to picture myself in my meadow of happiness.
A bit more rationally, I added, "I need to leave now. I need to be alone."
"You're staying here, Naomi." He ran a hand down his face. "Even if I have to lock you in the bathroom."
"Royce-"
He shook his head, his features dark and fierce. "You're going to hear me out. I'm not your ex, okay. I've never cheated on a woman, and I swear to you now I never will. I know what I want, and I want you. And, baby, you'd better understand now that I can be ruthless when it comes to getting what I want."
I threw my hands in the air. "There's nothing special about me." Why couldn't he understand that?
The distant rustle of wind sliced through the sudden silence. A thin layer of mist clouded the unadorned window. The mountainous landscape just beyond our room looked as harsh as Royce's face.
"Nothing special about you?" He stalked to that very window, gazing out at that very scenery. "Honey, I told you how you affected me at that party. And when you stepped into my office that first day, everything inside me went on alert. Your hair was messy, you had a streak of dirt on your face and when you sat down I saw the scrapes on your knees. And you know what? I'd never seen anything more beautiful. One glance at your lips, and I knew I had to have them all over me."
My cheeks reddened and I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You're just saying that because you're desperate to get married."
"You've said that before. I didn't answer you fully then, but I will now. I want to get married, yes, and I want a family. I want to belong to a woman and for her to belong to me. I want a woman to come home to-the same woman every night. I want our children running through our house. I want to know I have a partner who only wants the best for me, who will love me through everything. I want that with you. It's always been you."
The beauty of his words was shattering, and something lurched inside me at the happily-ever-after he described. Something that had nothing to do with panic, nothing to do with my hatred of marriage. "You've received thousands of applications. What if your Miss Right is in the stack, waiting for you? What if you find her after you've committed yourself to me?" I asked, softly speaking one of my deepest fears.
"I threw all the applications away the day you came into my office."
"But-"
"No buts. My mother ran the story. We were arguing, again, about my lack of dating. She said you obviously weren't interested in me and decided to introduce me to women who were available. I refused to date any of the applicants, and even talked her into having a birthday party with you as the planner." Royce turned toward me, his gaze clashing and locking with mine. "There's no other woman who has your spirit, Naomi. Your humor. Your ability to set me on fire."
I covered my face with my hands. If he'd said this to me six years ago, I would have caved. I would have been all over him. Now, I bore too many scars.
I couldn't give Royce what he wanted. I just couldn't put my heart on the line like that. The thought of permanent, legal ties made me nauseous. I wasn't ready. Hell, I might never be ready.
"I'm sorry, Royce, but my answer is still no."
Chapter Thirteen
The only absolute in life is death. A Tigress knows this and avoids anything that could render her own absolute, be it physical or emotional.
Even though Royce slept in another hotel room, I tossed and turned all night, confident I'd made the right choice one minute, hating myself for making the wrong choice the next. I was so confused. Maybe I'd acted hastily. Maybe I shouldn't have told him no so quickly.
I wanted to be with him sexually-truth. I didn't want to see him ever again-truth. When I looked at him, I melted inside- truth. At the same time, when I looked at him, I panicked- again, truth.
Would he agree to a phone relationship, maybe?
I discarded that idea as quickly as it formed. His voice was as sexy and mesmerizing as the man himself. Maybe I just needed to kick him out of my life for good, party be damned.
Great, now I wanted to cry.
When subtle, golden rays of sunlight peeked through the window, I gave up trying to rest and lumbered out of bed. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted to get involved with him in the first place. I hated the confusion, the insecurity.
I took a much needed shower, lingering in the steamy water, allowing the wet heat to relax me. Afterward, I dried my hair, brushed my teeth and dressed in my new black pants with ivy and flowers sewn in the seam and a matching blouse.
To my surprise, Royce was waiting in my room when I emerged from the bathroom. He sat in the cushy recliner, watching the news on TV. I stilled, my heartbeat picking up its pace. He looked delicious. His deep tan was displayed perfectly by the black pants and shirt he wore.
Now that I knew exactly what was under those clothes, I found myself picturing his hard, tanned muscles bunching, coiled and ready for my touch.
"Are you ready?" he asked, barely sparing me a glance. His cold, hard expression cut me deeply, but I should have been prepared for it. Should have been glad for it.
"Yes."
"We still need to drive to the cabin. We'll look around, then fly home."
"Just let me get my things." I turned, went to the divan and lifted my bag. Then I followed him out the door, my gaze boring into his back. Did he hate me?