“For all the good it did us. Doesn’t change anything,” he muttered and released her because if he held on to her any longer, he might not be able to let go at all. “If we made a child tonight, we’re getting married. I’m not having any kid of mine grow up like I did. With a part-time father and a mother who spent all of her time trying to find a man to stay with her.”
He’d never said that out loud before. Never let anyone catch a glimpse of the kind of childhood he’d had. Lucas had loved his parents, but he wasn’t born blind. His mom was a nice woman who hadn’t been strong enough to be a single mother. She had spent every waking moment looking for the love that Ben King hadn’t been able to give her.
He wouldn’t sentence any child of his to the kind of half life Lucas had known as a kid.
As if she sensed just how ragged he was feeling, Rose let her anger fade away. Her voice softened, too, as she said, “We’re not going to settle anything tonight, Lucas. And we’re probably going to war over nothing. I think I should just go.”
Her skin looked milky against the dark fabric she held so tightly and her hair was as pale as the moonlight. Her eyes were shadowed, though, and he hated to see it.
His seduction plan had worked too well. Not only had he gotten Rose into his bed, but he’d also been seduced. Losing himself in the feel of her. The taste of her. Even now, knowing what they might be facing, his body ached for her again. His brain was racing, but his body only needed.
Nothing about Rose Clancy was turning out to be easy.
“Maybe we should talk this out more.”
“I think we’ve already said plenty.” She glanced around the room looking for her clothes. She grabbed her panties and jeans and tugged them on, then seemed to realize that they had left their shirts downstairs.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her br**sts. “I don’t even have my shirt with me. What was I thinking?”
The problem was, Lucas thought, that neither of them had been thinking at all. This whole seduction thing had gotten way out of hand. He’d thought he was in charge. Totally on top of the situation. What a joke. Now he was caught in a web of his own making and he didn’t have a clue as to whether there was a way out or not—or hell, whether or not he even wanted a way out.
Which was so far out of orbit for him, he dismissed the thought the minute it rose up in his mind. This was not about forever. Hell, this wasn’t even temporary. This was just supposed to be a one-night seduction and then revenge. Plain and simple.
Only problem was, simple was off the table.
“You know what?” Rose was saying, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe she was standing there half-dressed. “I just have to go. Now.”
Only minutes ago this woman had practically set his bed on fire. Now they were awkward with each other, neither of them sure of their next move. And for Lucas at least, that was a first.
“No point in hiding your br**sts from me now, is there?” he asked, taking her elbow to escort her downstairs.
“In bed, it’s different. Just standing here…” She closed her eyes and huffed out a breath that could have been anger but was probably embarrassment.
He snatched up a T-shirt off a chair in his room and handed it to her. “Here.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, turning her back on him to pull his shirt over her head. The hem of the dark green shirt fell to the middle of her thighs and made her look smaller, more vulnerable somehow—and he didn’t think she’d like knowing that.
When she looked at him again, she refused to meet his gaze. Everything had changed now. They’d let each other in and exposed too many secrets and now they were both busily rebuilding personal barriers. Lucas steered her out of his room and down the hall, sensing the emotional distance between them as they walked in strained silence.
And all he could think was that Sean had been right. Revenge really did have a way of turning around to bite you in the ass.
Staring at the computer screen doing the books for her business wasn’t taking Rose’s mind off of Lucas King. She rubbed her gritty eyes, shook her head and tried to focus again, but even she could see it was useless.
Everything on the screen might as well have been in Greek. Numbers seemed to run together. Red and black. Clients and suppliers. Appointments and schedules. All of it was blurred into a distorted mess that seemed to taunt her feelings of ineptitude. That’s what she got for trying to work when she was so tired she could hardly see straight.
“But to be fair,” she said aloud in the stillness, “I suck at this end of the business even on a good day.”
Frowning, she kicked back in her chair, lifting her sneaker-clad feet to the corner of her desk. Her small home office was brutally organized. Not a paper out of place. There were file cabinets, a three-in-one copier/printer/fax machine and a top-of-the-line computer on a simple wood desk. She glanced at the framed poster of Ireland hanging on the wall and briefly wished she were there on that rocky coast, with the wind in her hair.
But that thought only lasted a moment as she sighed and glanced around the room. She had been so determined, when she started Home Cooking Taught at Home, to be the quintessential businesswoman. And for a while, she had made a good job of it. Until last night. Rose was pretty sure quintessential didn’t mean sleeping with your clients—or rather not sleeping, but having amazing, soul-shaking, body-burning sex.
Her feet dropped to the floor as her stomach pitched.
“Oh, God.” She lowered her head to the desk until her forehead hit with a thunk. Rose sat up abruptly, reaching to rub her forehead.
She could be pregnant.
“No, don’t think that, and for heaven’s sake, don’t say it out loud,” she whispered, shaking her head. All she needed was to throw that challenge out to the universe. Pregnancy was not in her business plan. Or in her life plan for that matter. Sure, someday, she’d love to have children. Had always wanted them, in fact…but not yet. She knew there were women out there who managed to be single moms and work and have a life and pull it off beautifully.
But that’s not what she wanted.
Even with her miserable marriage in her background, Rose still wanted the fairy tale.
“Of course, they were called Grimm fairy tales for a reason,” she told herself with a sigh. Oh, yeah, she was in great shape. Her mind wandering down long, twisting paths that went exactly nowhere and made her feel absolutely no better.