After leaving the dance, he’d hung around her building for the better part of the night. The longer she’d been gone, the wilder his imagination had grown, until he’d been forced to face the fact that when it came to Charlotte, his emotions were out of control. That she’d finally returned, alone, hadn’t made a bit of difference in calming him down. Though Rick respected brotherly boundaries, Charlotte by no means belonged to Roman.
No matter how damn proprietary he felt, he had to let go. His pacing time tonight had given him the opportunity to think, and Roman now knew exactly what he had to say to Charlotte. He just didn’t know how to begin.
“You’re strangely silent for a man who just broke into my apartment,” she said at last.
“I didn’t break in—”
“I didn’t let you in the front door, so what do you call barging in through the window?”
“Visiting.” Stalling. He ran a hand through his hair. “Obviously you’re not in the mood to talk to me, so how about you just hear me out?”
She shrugged. “You’re here. The sooner you talk, the sooner you’ll leave.”
Now that he’d entered the inner sanctum, leaving was the last thing he desired. Her small apartment was frilly and feminine, much like Charlotte. He took in the white walls, yellow trim, flowered furniture, and though he ought to feel out of place surrounded by so much femininity, he was intrigued and aroused instead. The journalist in him wanted to dig deeper, learn more. The man in him just wanted her.
Looking at her skimpy tank dress pumped more adrenaline through his veins. Though obviously meant for casual comfort, it was completely sensual. The snow-white shade contrasted with her tousled black hair. For a color that symbolized innocence, the white sheath conjured thoughts that were anything but pure.
But he wasn’t here to indulge in the sensual dance they did so well. He was here to explain himself and his feelings—something Roman Chandler had never done before, certainly not to a woman. But Charlotte wasn’t just any woman. She never had been.
And she deserved to know his pulling back had nothing to do with his feelings for her and everything to do with their differences—and the fact that he respected her needs. “I need to clear some things up.”
“What things?”
“You talked about the need to get me out of your system and vice versa.”
Her eyes opened wide, her vulnerability as apparent as the sexual tension humming between them. “You rejected that offer, as I recall. You pushed me away, then ignored me in public and now you’re back, barging into my private space, wanting to talk. You’re interested, you’re not interested, you’re interested again.” Her hands waved back and forth in time to her rapid-fire talk and her quick pacing in front of him. “Do I look like a pull toy to you?”
Her question confirmed Rick’s claim and Roman’s fears, that he was hurting her with mixed signals, and for that he owed her an explanation. But she didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“Or maybe that’s what you like—the chase. The forbidden. Maybe you’re one of those men who doesn’t want something once it’s too easy.” She shook her head. “And damn but I made it easy.” Her face flushed crimson with the memory of what happened between them in the dressing room of her store.
He caught her wrist on one of her walk-bys and held her in place until she met his gaze, her green eyes focused solely on his.
“You think I don’t want you?” he bit out through clenched teeth.
“I haven’t seen any evidence to the contrary.”
Her words were the equivalent of a dare, arousing his baser instincts. All good intentions aside, she’d pushed him to the edge and over. He stepped forward, backing her against the wall until their bodies aligned. No way could she miss the evidence of his desire any more than he could ignore her distended ni**les, pointy and hard against his chest. Without waiting for a response, he bent his head for a kiss—a tongue-tangling, dueling kiss that was as mutual as it was hot.
Breaking the moment between them took all the resolve he had but he lifted his head. “How’s that for evidence?” He asked, still breathing heavily.
She sucked in a heavy breath, then pushed herself back. “Okay, Roman. No more games.”
The last thing he intended was to play with her emotions, but every time she was near, his own feelings rampaged out of control, causing him to act contrary to common sense.
“What do you want with me?” She rubbed her hands up and down her skin, as if she could cradle herself in warmth and comfort.
He let out a groan. “What I want and what I can take are two different things.” They’d finally gotten to the crux of the matter. “I’m not staying in town,” he said, softer now, lowering his voice, speaking the one truth he knew would push her away. No matter how much it hurt him to do it.
“I know.” She bit down on her lower lip, gnawing the plump skin between her teeth. “And I wish my father had been as honest with my mother.”
Her words caught Roman off guard. He knew only what the rest of town knew—that Russell Bronson had breezed out of Yorkshire Falls, abandoning his wife and young child. He returned at intermittent intervals, stayed for a while, only to take off again. Roman also knew the abandonment caused both women much pain. Something he never wanted or intended to do.
He reached out and touched Charlotte’s cheek. “It’s not the same thing.”
“That’s because I’d know going in there’s no long-term commitment involved. Otherwise it’d be exactly the same.”
Her voice was husky and emotion-filled, reaching deep down and touching Roman’s heart. It had been a long time since anyone or anything struck such an emotional chord inside him. Not since his father’s death and the early years of his mother’s grief, and Roman instinctively rebelled against the welling feelings.
Unfortunately, the chord, once struck, reverberated with intensity and truth. And he didn’t like being lumped in a category that held the town’s deadbeat dad and wandering husband, the man who’d hurt Charlotte badly.
“I’d never dishonor my commitments that way.” But as Roman spoke, he realized that was exactly what he’d planned to do.
Get married, impregnate his wife, and get out. Exactly what Charlotte’s father had done to her mother. Roman had just been too self-absorbed by the life change ahead of him to consider what his actions would or could do to the woman he involved.