‘No,’ he told her hoarsely. ‘No, not yet, Rue…it’s too soon.’
And as she stared at him, all the confidence and pleasure draining from her, he cursed bitterly, the tight bite of his fingers easing into a caress.
‘It isn’t because I don’t want you! Heaven knows, you must know that I do.’ And when she continued to stare at him, her eyes frozen lakes of pain, he pulled her towards him and kissed her mouth fiercely, as though willing her to believe him.
He didn’t want her at all. It had just been pity, pretence…and she had humiliated herself in front of him, shown him… She shuddered and looked past him into the distance, her body suddenly as cold as alabaster.
‘Rue, let me explain…’
She focused on him and said tiredly, ‘You don’t have to. I understand…’ And then, like a small child reciting a carefully taught speech, she said formally, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you; I didn’t mean to. Too much emotional trauma in one day. There’s no need for you to stay. I shall be all right now.’
‘Rue—’ he began.
She couldn’t stand any more. If he stayed much longer, she was going to disintegrate completely.
‘Please…’ she begged tightly, completely unable to look at him, and as though he guessed what she was having to endure, he picked up his robe and said quietly, ‘I’m sorry.’
She closed her eyes until she was sure he was gone. Something told her that no matter what she said he wouldn’t leave her here alone, but she drew no comfort from that knowledge, for while he stayed she would be unable to give way to the grief that was tearing her apart.
She loved him, and she had thought he desired her…for wonderful, glorious moments she had thought he wanted her, but it had just been pity, compassion…call it what you would. She had misread the message in his eyes and had caused them both pain and embarrassment.
For both their sakes it would be best if she did not see him again. She because she was not sure she could trust herself not to embarrass them both by revealing her feelings, and Neil… Well, Neil could hardly want to be with her, not now. She had no doubt that, given the chance, he would offer her some face-saving excuse…some tactful explanation of why he had rejected her. Oh, he had tried to pretend that she was wrong, that he did want her, but it had been too late. That hoarse command to her to wait had told its own story.
She sat motionlessly staring into nothing, wondering what it was about her that made her precipitate herself headlong into disaster when it came to her personal relationships.
Neil was no Julian, greedy, selfish, uncaring; the only thing they had in common was that neither of them could love her.
As she waited for the pain inside her to subside, Rue acknowledged drearily that it would have been better if she and Neil had never met…if she had never been brought to realise the truth about her feelings for him. Now it was too late to go back and change things. Her body still held an echo of the desire he had aroused within it. If she closed her eyes and ignored reality she could almost conjure up the sensation of his flesh against hers, of his body-heat and scent…of his touch against her breasts…of the hot, demanding sensation aroused by the weight of him between her thighs. But she mustn’t think about those things. She must obliterate them from her memory and concentrate instead on reality.
She had her home, her business, her friends, and before Neil had erupted into her life she had been content. But now that contentment was gone. The comparison between what her life was and what it could have been if he had shared her feelings was too sharply painful to be borne.
But somehow it would have to be borne. Somehow or other she was going to have to learn to face reality with at least some degree of equanimity.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FOR almost the first time since she had set up in business, Rue felt unable to work; not just because of the physical exhaustion which had weakened her body to the point where all she wanted to do was to simply sit and stare into space nursing a reviving mug of coffee, but also because she had no heart for work. No heart for anything, she acknowledged miserably, bending down to fondle Horatio’s ears as the dog whined and thumped his tail on the floor, sensing her misery.
She had brought his basket downstairs into the kitchen, and despite the room’s warmth she gave a tiny shiver as she looked at the grey bleakness of the sky outside.
Horatio heard the car before she did, his tail beating frantically, his whine one of obvious pleasure, and before Rue could even think about dashing upstairs to put on something a little more decorous than her nightshirt Neil was at the back door.
It was too late to wish now that she had taken more trouble with her appearance, that she had dressed properly instead of coming downstairs with bare feet and legs, her hair tumbling wildly on to her shoulders, her face untouched by any colour, save that which fluctuated wildly under her skin as she fought to dismiss certain far too vivid memories of the previous night’s intimacy.
In spite of herself she felt her heartbeat race into frantic overdrive, a dizzying wave of pleasure engulfing her as she opened the door to him. The only way she could control it was to keep her distance from him as she stepped back to let him into the kitchen.
The first thing that struck her as he walked in was the formality of his clothes. Gone were the faded jeans and worn T-shirt, and in its place was a crisp white shirt, immaculately laundered and starched, and a silver-grey business suit in fine silk and wool. Gold cuff-links flashed dully in the light as he walked over to the basket and bent to stroke Horatio.
‘Don’t,’ Rue cautioned him sharply, causing him to turn round and frown darkly at her. As he straightened up to his full height, she felt vulnerably tiny in her bare feet, uncomfortably conscious of her own near-nudity in comparison with his own formal appearance.
‘I’m not going to hurt him,’ he told her grimly. ‘I thought we’d sorted all that out last night.’
Immediately realising that he had totally misunderstood her, Rue felt obliged to say huskily, ‘No, you don’t understand. It isn’t that—’
His frown deepened and he didn’t allow her to finish, cutting in angrily, ‘Polite lies, Rue. Somehow I suspected better of you, and anyway it’s too late. You’ve already made it very plain that you’re terrified of my touching Horatio. What exactly is it that you think I can do to him right in front of you?’ he asked her derisively.
‘It isn’t that!’ she checked him desperately, taking a half dozen steps towards him in her need to correct his misconceptions. He moved at the same time, swinging round towards her, so that she was easily within arm’s length of him. Too close for safety, she recognised frantically as his abrupt movement stirred the air between them and she caught the scent of his body, clean, sharp, and yet at the same time very male, conjuring up memories of how last night she had almost been drunk on the wine-taste of his skin and the scent of him.
Her colour fluctuated wildly, her body betraying her agitation. The sudden shuddering breath she drew pushed her breasts against the fine cotton of her nightshirt, and Neil, who had been looking directly into her eyes, suddenly shifted his attention to her body. A tremor shot through her, her insides turned hot and weak.