“No, I didn’t,” he emphasizes. “With her, I felt confused. Fooled. Betrayed when she left. I didn’t feel anything like I felt today. Not close. When you left and I realized what I had done, I felt crushed, Mallory. Absolutely slaughtered.”
That softens my fury and I give him a tipoff by the grin threatening to break out across my lips. His eyes go to my mouth, almost pulling it up by sheer will.
“Vanessa did call me a few days ago. Before Lincoln’s wedding,” he says, his words measured. “I intended on telling you after the wedding. You were threatening to quit and I was so focused on figuring things out with you first. I knew if I told you before, it would be an added thing to deal with.”
“But you didn’t tell me,” I point out, my tone heavy with annoyance.
“Because I forgot.”
“Sure you did. I’m so sure it just slipped your mind because that’s a normal reaction.”
He scoots closer, but doesn’t touch me. I feel my body wanting to reach for him, needing the comfort I’ve come to find in his arms.
“I did. It’s the God’s honest truth. Think about it: you’ve been at my house since the night of Linc’s wedding. Having you in my home, seeing you in my kitchen, in my bed, having you to talk to, to kiss—Vanessa was the last thing on my mind.”
That whittles down my anger a little more. “What did the letter say?” I’m afraid of the answer and hate that he has some kind of connection with this woman in any way.
He leaps to his feet and digs in the pocket of his jacket. He’s nearly frantic, his hands flying through the pockets until he lands on the one in the inside lining. “I don’t know what it says,” he says. “By the way, Raza told me what you said to her.”
“I don’t care if it was out of line—”
“Baby,” he says, turning around and giving me a sexy smile, “that made my day.”
“Re
ally?”
“I’m always the one going to battle for everyone else. You could’ve had her wait or called me in to deal with it, but instead, you did it. You went to battle for me.” He crouches next to me, his eyes now glistening again. “Here.”
In his hand is the envelope from my desk. He shakes it in the air. It rustles like an unwarranted tax paper or court summons.
“I don’t want that,” I grimace.
“I don’t know what it says and I don’t care. If you do, here, have at it.”
When I don’t take it, he stands and walks to the garbage. Eyes on me, he rips it down the middle and deposits it in the can. “Satisfied?” he asks.
“Kind of,” I shrug, trying not to grin.
He’s back in front of me in a flash. He takes my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over my palms. “I’m warning you—I’m not leaving here without you. I told you once that I wouldn’t pretend we didn’t happen.”
“You were talking about fucking me,” I laugh.
“That statement has been amended to mean more.” He stands and tugs me up too. “I want to take your favorite things about me—my passion and intellect, as you say—and apply them to you every day. If you give me a chance, I promise to make you feel like the most treasured woman in the world.”
“You make a lot of promises,” I tease.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me towards him. His lips hovering over mine, he whispers, “Only the ones I intend on keeping.”
“Forgive me,” he breathes. “If I ever act like that again, you can leave and I’ll help you pack your bags. But that won’t happen. You have my word.”
“Pack my bags?” I say, lacing my fingers through his hair. “That sounds a little much, don’t you think?”
“I was at your apartment today.” He pulls away. “I’m going to have a hard time letting you go back there.”
“I am,” I insist. “That’s a deal breaker. We’re taking this slow. While I love Danielle’s gung-ho attitude with the marriage and a baby, that’s not me.”
His breath is hot against my lips as he brushes them against each other.