Passion Play

Rose shrugged. “That we’ve broken up.”

A strange expression moved across Donovan’s features. It was gone in a blink. He seemed to stiffen, then relax. “Have you already paid our registration?”

“No, there isn’t a deadline for registration.” Actually, she’d paid the discounted early registration fee. The law school could consider Donovan’s registration a gift to its annual fund.

“What about your panel presentation?”

“There are other people on the panel.” Good grief, he had a lot of questions. Rose paced farther across the room.

He gave her a look of such intensity. Rose was torn between confessing everything and making love to him again. Neither response was appropriate. Instead she waited warily for his next move.

“What does that mean for us?” His voice was low and graveled.

Rose had dreaded that question even as she’d wanted to get it out of the way. She swallowed hard. “I consider that we’ve fulfilled our business agreement. The city council has responded favorably to the shelter’s statement, and I’m no longer going to my reunion.”

“Our business agreement? Is that all the past two months have been?” There was no mistaking the anger glowing in his eyes.

“That’s what we entered into, yes.”

“And what about Thursday night?” Donovan pinned her with his stare. “Was that a clause in the agreement?”

Their one night together had been magical. Donovan Carroll must be the most generous lover on the planet. She’d hold that night in her heart forever and relive it in her fantasies. She would never have a night like that one ever again. Donovan had ruined her for anyone else.

“Thursday night was wonderful. But it can’t ever happen again.”

She wasn’t looking for another heartache. A man who could make a woman feel like that—how long could Rose possibly hope to keep him satisfied?

* * *

Rose was ripping out his heart with every syllable that dropped from her luscious lips. Donovan set his jaw and masked his pain with a defiant note. “Why can’t we have another night like that one?”

Her eyes widened. She gazed around her stark living room as though searching for an answer. “As wonderful as that night was, I’m not looking for perpetual hookups.”

Did she think that’s what he was? “What are you looking for?”

Rose spread her arms. “I’m looking for stability, permanence.”

“And you don’t think I can give you that?” His eyes narrowed as he searched her features.

“A man who makes love like that cannot possibly be monogamous.”

Donovan gaped at her. Is she kidding me? “Are you critiquing my technique?”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying that you’re very sexual, which isn’t a bad thing. But I’m not.”

Donovan stilled. “There were two people in that bed, Rose. Two very satisfied, very sweaty, very tired people.”

Rose planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I’m not saying that I regret making love with you. I wanted that night just as much as you did.”

“You just don’t ever want to be sexually satisfied again. Is that it?” Donovan returned her glare.

“You’re ridiculous.” Rose threw up her hands and stomped to the other end of the room.

Donovan watched her. Her navy shorts showed off her long runner’s legs. Her gray tank top had touches of pink in its pattern. She was adding more color to her outfits. The memory of her lingerie—two scraps of hot-pink cloth—sent the blood rushing to his crotch. What was she wearing today?

Donovan turned and paced to the opposite side of the room. Several deep breaths helped ease his discomfort. He turned, but she still had her back to him. “What’s really going on, Rose? Just give me the truth. I want to know.”

“The agreement is over.”