He never let her get away with anything. ‘With good reason.’
‘Samantha, it’s not what it looks like.’
She couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, but she could stop herself from caring. ‘Life isn’t always a mystery. Sometimes things are exactly how they seem.’
His lips flattened to a straight line. ‘What did they tell you?’
‘The truth! Something you couldn’t do.’
Roman looked away. Samantha went to the bar cart set up for guests. Dry-mouthed, she grabbed a complimentary bottle of water. Her hands trembled so much she had trouble twisting the cap.
Roman took the bottle from her, opened it effortlessly, and brushed his fingers over hers when he returned it. ‘We were going to talk tomorrow. Remember?’
She didn’t believe him. ‘Tomorrow you would have found another excuse to get out of it.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘I told you everything, all my secrets, all my messy stories. If your fiancée hadn’t walked in—’
‘She’s not my fiancée. We’re not together.’
‘What went wrong? Didn’t you find her “grand gesture” appealing?’
Roman cocked his head. ‘They really told you everything.’
‘I hate to repeat myself, but you should have told me!’ she cried. Before he could tell her to calm down, she warned him: ‘Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!’
He threw his hands up. ‘I would never.’
‘Good.’
Feeling overheated, she took a swig from the water bottle. It did not cool her off. Roman yanked at the knot of his tie, the object of so many fantasies. This was not the way this night was supposed to end.
‘Do we have to have this conversation here?’ he asked.
‘We don’t have to have this conversation at all.’
He approached her gingerly, as if she were a wild animal. ‘Samantha, please. I know I hurt you.’
‘You didn’t hurt me,’ she snapped. ‘I’m fine.’ Roman was smart enough not to state the obvious fact: she didn’t look fine. ‘You’ve disappointed me. That’s all.’
Hurt flashed in his eyes. Samantha was torn. She suppressed the urge to reach for his hand and reassure him.
‘So where’s your fiancée now?’ she asked.
‘Again, she’s not my fiancée. And to answer your question, I drove her back to her hotel.’
‘You have a big place. Why should she stay at a hotel?’
‘Sammy.’ His voice dipped to a whisper. For once she didn’t mind her nickname. It sounded loving and tender, not childish. ‘You’re the only one who has ever been to my place.’
‘Oh.’
‘By the way, you’re not doing a good job hiding your jealousy.’
‘I’m not jealous!’
‘Now I’m disappointed. Didn’t I do anything right this week?’