Gingerly she sat across from him. He thought of how he’d first met her, the cold cynicism in her eyes, the outrageous smile, the constant innuendo. She was so different now, so real and beautiful and vulnerable. He was so afraid of hurting her. Of failing her.
It was a fear, he acknowledged bleakly, that had dogged him for most of his life. Twenty-five years, to be precise, since he’d battered helpless fists against a locked door, begged his mother to let him in. Tried to save her...and failed.
This is your fault, Luke.
He blinked, forced the memory away. He hardly ever thought of it now, had schooled himself not to. Yet Aurelie’s fragile vulnerability brought it all rushing back, made him agonisingly aware of his own responsibility—and weakness.
‘It’s not as if I’m a virgin,’ she said, clearly trying to sound light and playful and not quite achieving it. ‘Even if you’re acting as if I am.’
‘In some ways you are,’ Luke answered bluntly. ‘If you’ve never enjoyed sex—’
‘I’m what? An enjoyment virgin?’ Her eyebrows rose, and he saw a faint remnant of the old mockery there.
‘An emotional one, perhaps.’
She sighed. ‘Semantics again.’
‘I don’t know what sex has been to you in the past, but it’s not anything I want it to be with me.’
A blush touched her cheeks. ‘I know that. I want it to be different.’
‘How?’
She swallowed. ‘Maybe you should tell me what it’s been to you in the past.’
Now he swallowed. Looked away. He was so not used to these kinds of conversations. Honesty and emotional nakedness were two totally different things. ‘Well, I suppose it’s been an expression of affection.’ Coward. ‘Of...of love.’
They stared at each other, the silence taut with unspoken words, feelings too new and fragile to articulate. ‘Did you love the women you’ve been with before?’ Aurelie asked in a low voice.
‘I suppose I thought I did. But honestly, I’m not sure.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘It didn’t feel like this.’
This. Whatever was between them, whatever they were building. Luke didn’t know how strong it was, whether a single breath would knock it all down.
‘That’s what I want,’ Aurelie finally managed, her voice no more than a husky whisper. ‘I know we’ve only known each other a short while and I’m not saying—’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m not trying to, you know, jump the gun.’
His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Aren’t you?’
‘Well, not the emotional gun. Physically, maybe.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘They go together, Aurelie. That’s the only kind of sex I want with you.’
He saw the fear flash in her eyes but she didn’t look away. ‘That’s what I want, Luke. That’s what I want with you.’
And he wanted to believe her. Yet still he hesitated; they’d only known each other, really, for a handful of days. Intense days, yes, amazing days. But still just days.
‘Please,’ she whispered, her voice low and smoky, and he felt his resistance start to crumble. Not that there had really been much to begin with. He was honest enough—hell, yes, he had to be—to know that any resistance he’d given had been token, merely a show. He wanted this too.
‘Anything that happens between us,’ he said, his tone turning almost severe, ‘happens at a pace I control.’
She stilled for just a second, then gave him a small smile. ‘Yes, boss.’
‘And if I think it isn’t...it isn’t working, then we stop. I stop. Got that?’
‘Got it.’
Hell. He hadn’t exactly set the mood, had he? Yet he wanted her to know he wasn’t going to rush things, take advantage. In this crucial moment, he wanted her to trust him. He wanted to trust himself.
He swallowed, felt her gaze, wide-eyed and expectant, on him. He could not think of a single thing to say.
A tiny smile hovered around Aurelie’s mouth and her eyes lightened with mischief. ‘So what now?’
‘Hell if I know.’
And then she laughed, a joyous bubble of sound, and he laughed too, and he felt them both relax. Maybe it would be okay after all. Maybe it would even be wonderful.