“Why not?” Tessa was curious.
“Because, it can’t happen again. It shouldn’t have happened last night.”
The forkful of fluffy yellow eggs stopped midway to her mouth. She didn’t like the tone of his voice. She’d heard it before. In the jail. “Are you sorry?” Tessa’s blue eyes sparkled with a different emotion now. Tears shimmered near the surface.
David got up from the chair and began to pace. “Not sorry, exactly.” For someone known for his eloquence, he was doing a sorry job of explaining the situation to Tessa. His words came out sounding harsh and abrupt.
“Did I do something wrong?”
He turned back to look at her, saw the worried expression on her face. “No, Tessa, I did something wrong.”
“What?”
“You were a virgin!” David burst out. “For God’s sake, Tessa, I took your virginity.”
“You did no such thing.” Tessa dropped her fork; it clattered against the plate. “You didn’t take it. I gave it to you,” she said fiercely.
“Well, dammit, you shouldn’t have!”
“That’s what you say now.” Tessa stood up. “It’s not what you said last night.”
“I didn’t know last night!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What the hell was Arnie Mason doing in your room? I thought—”
“You shouldn’t have.” She flung the words at him. “I told you from the beginning that I didn’t go with the gentlemen.”
“You worked at the Satin Slipper.”
“I served drinks, not myself.”
David laughed, a harsh sound that hurt Tessa’s ears. “Did Myra know she had hired a virgin? By God, you could have made her rich! Why did you work there?”
“Coalie and I had to eat,” Tessa reminded him. “And we needed a roof over our heads. But I never went with the gentlemen.”
“I know that,” David said. “So why the devil did you go with me last night?” He raked his long fingers through his hair.
“Because I wanted to.”
“Why?”
Because he made her feel beautiful and special and loved. Because she wanted him to feel the same way. Tessa realized suddenly that she wanted David Alexander, not just in the physical sense but in every way. Somewhere between the first time she saw him standing in the mass of curious spectators and last night, she’d fallen in love.
“What difference does it make?” Tessa asked. “It’s done.” He had spoiled it. The most beautiful experience in her entire life, and David had ruined it by saying he regretted it.
“It makes a hell of a lot of difference to me.” David stopped pacing. “I don’t want to be accused of seducing a poor innocent girl or fathering her child.”
Tessa recoiled as if he’d slapped her. In fact, slapping her might have been kinder. “What did you say?” Her voice was as frigid as an Arctic wind.
“You heard me.” David read the expression on her face. The surprise. The shock. The pain.
“Is that how you see it? Do you think that’s all that happened between us?” Her eyes widened until they looked like huge sapphires against a pale background.
David didn’t, but he couldn’t admit that, not even to erase the pain. It was better for her to be hurt now than pay a higher price later. So he ignored her question, unable to tell her how much their lovemaking had meant to him because telling her would bring her into his arms once again. And David was very much afraid he wouldn’t be strong enough to let her go.
She stood stock still. “Is that how you make love to Myra or Charlotte at the Satin Slipper?” Tessa demanded, fighting to keep her composure, fighting to keep the tears from flowing.
“Tessa—”
“Answer me. Do you do the same things to other women? Touch them the same way? Kiss them the same way?”