“I never thought that!”
“Doing what I almost did a little while ago, on the other hand, does.”
“Doing what…?” Marco shook his head. “Making love?”
“We weren’t going to make love, we were—we were going to have sex.”
“I apologize for my lack of finesse.”
He spoke coldly. She couldn’t blame him
. She’d made an ass of herself, and whose fault, really, was that?
Hers, of course.
The truth was, she was the one who was embarrassed about playing at the Tune-In. Dammit, she was embarrassed about her life. The useless major. The even more useless minor. Her absolute failure at anything and everything that might even come close to success.
As for what had happened here…
He was right to apologize. It had been his fault. Not hers. He had seduced her…
Liar! She’d been as much a part of it as he had. She, the woman who couldn’t understand hookups, who never slept with a man until, as Lissa had once said, she knew him so well that sleeping with him was just another boring event—she had been ready and willing to get on that couch and tear off a stranger’s clothes while he tore off hers.
It was a harsh reality check but a necessary one.
Emily forced her gaze to meet Marco’s.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” she said stiffly. “I’m an adult. I take full responsibility for my actions. I should never have come here today.” Back straight, shoulders locked, she started past him. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
Marco stretched his arm across the open door.
“Not so fast.”
They were inches apart. Emily was glaring at him. Despite what she’d just said, he could see that she blamed him for what had happened.
Perhaps she was right.
He was the man. Men were supposed to be in full control at all times. He lived by that code; it was one of the things that had made him a success in business. He trusted people who worked for him, but the ultimate responsibility for actions that affected him belonged to him.
It was the same way in his relationships with women.
Not that he had “relationships.” Not since his divorce. The word was a female concept and loaded with the sort of emotional baggage women demanded and smart men ignored, but the point was, he was accountable for what had happened just now.
For what had almost happened.
His gaze moved over Emily’s face. She was flushed; her eyes glittered. Her mouth was faintly swollen; she was breathing just a little too hard.
She looked like a woman who had just slipped from a man’s arms, and despite everything, that was where he wanted her.
What would she do if he reached for her? Would she protest and try to pull away—or would she admit that what had happened was not over? That it couldn’t be over until she was naked beneath him, her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips, his hard flesh buried deep within her?
Dio, this was not a line of thought to pursue!
It was dangerous.
It was also pointless.
If he’d thought she wasn’t the kind of woman who would fit into his world before, he was certain of it now.