“I got that,” she said walking faster. “I’m not stupid. I put two and two together and figured out that’s the only way you knew I was at that bar. Why he called, I don’t know.”
“He cares, Zoe.”
“He feels guilty. There’s a difference.”
“I’ve seen a lot of people who don’t so much as blink at other people’s pain. Your brother called me because he cares about you.”
She gave him a sideways look. “So he called you.” It wasn’t a question. “Two guilty men trying to make up. Amazing how you can come together in your time of need.”
He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. “I don’t deserve this. I didn’t know who you were. My career does not make me a jerk.” He paused. “I’m sorry I came. I really am. I thought…well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll walk you home and then that’s it. I’m gone.” Declan let his hands drop, feeling burned by her words and actions.
For several seconds, she stared at him and then, without a word, turned and started walking. Side by side they traveled toward her apartment, the tension and emotion between them so thick it could be cut with a knife. When they reached her building she turned to him. Her eyes were wide with vulnerability. “Will you come up?”
“This isn’t about sex, Zoe. You’ve been drinking and I wish like hell I had been. If I come up, we talk. Nothing more.”
She nodded. “I want to talk.”
* * * * *
Declan’s words back on the sidewalk had been like ice water in her face. She wanted to blame the alcohol for how she’d acted in the bar, but Mike had forced coffee down her and the fuzziness was fast fading. Food had made a huge difference. Drinking on an empty stomach never turned out well. She couldn’t remember the last meal she’d eaten.
Stress tended to either make her eat a lot or not at all. Besides, the alcohol wasn’t what had made her act so poorly. Fear had. She was scared of being hurt. And Declan could hurt her with the snap of his fingers. He’d managed to steal her heart. Deep down she’d known this from the moment she’d met him. Tonight, she had to admit it for the first time. If any man was the man, it was him. She didn’t want to lose him.
Zoe led Declan into the living room and sat down on one side of the couch. He joined her, leaving a huge space between them. Dressed much like her brother, tie loose, shirtsleeves rolled up, it should have reminded her of their similarities. The things she didn’t want in her life about their career and lives. Instead, she could only think of how much she wanted to touch Declan. To kiss him and tell him she was sorry. She wanted to believe in Declan, and even in Mike, for that matter.
Her chest tightened as she tried to draw in a breath. “I was wrong back there at the bar…and when we were walking. I shouldn’t have acted that way.” She paused. “Same goes for my office. I didn’t mean what I said…that it’s all been about sex.”
His eyes met hers. Blue, so very blue. And potent. It was hard to think when he looked at her like that. “Then why did you say it was?” he asked, his voice low. Challenging.
She closed her eyes a moment, terrified about what she was about to admit. Forcing her gaze back to his, she responded. “You scare the hell out of me, Declan. What you make me feel and think and want.”
She watched his chest rise and fall for several seconds, his expression indiscernible. “Because I’m an attorney and a part of a world you don’t want to be in.” It wasn’t a question.
“That’s what I told myself at first. And I won’t lie. To some degree, there is truth there. Only, it’s more than that. I feel things with you I have never felt and you have no idea how hard this is to admit.” She laughed, but not with humor. “There is probably just enough alcohol left in me to give me the courage to admit all this.” He stared at her, not saying anything. “Don’t just sit there. Say something!”
“Is this about sex?”
“No. Yes. I mean, damn it, I want you, Declan. You know I do. But it’s not about that. I think…well, I think the physical part is so good because there is more to it than just sex.”
Declan slid across the couch and took her hand. His touch felt like an electric charge. “I knew you were scared. I understand; you know. I feel all the same things.”
“You do?”
His hand slid down her hair in a gentle caress. “Of course, I do. I’ve never felt like this. Never.” He kissed her then, soft and sensual, but oh-so-tender. When he raised his head, he stared into her eyes. “I need to tell you some things. I need to know if you can deal with what I have going on in my life.”
“If this is about your job—”
He stopped her words with a brush of his lips. “It is. I have to take over the firm or my father won’t retire. He and my mom are trying to work things out. I have to give them that chance. That means a lot of demands the next year. A lot.”
Her hand went to his cheek, stroking the stubble on his square jaw. “And you’re telling me this why?”
“It will impact you. Us, that is. I’ll work long hours and I’ll take some cases I won’t love. But when it’s over, I’ll leave and open my own practice. I want you to know there’s an end in sight. If you’re willing to ride it out with me.” He paused and drew her hand to his mouth. “What I’m saying is I want to know where this is going, you and me. I need to know.”
She smiled. “I need to know too. And you’re worth a little pain for the pleasure, Declan. I’m not going to bail because you’re trying to take care of your parents. In fact, I find the fact that you would sacrifice for their happiness incredibly sexy.”
His brow lifted and a smile played on his deliciously sensual mouth. “Is that so?” he asked.
“Hmmm,” she purred, and moved, pushing him against the couch and straddling him. “And I might even let you be on top sometimes.”
He laughed and she nipped his earlobe. “Make love to me, Declan,” she whispered.
Declan framed her face with his hands and looked at her. His eyes were hot and demanding, searching for the truth. For confirmation of the meaning behind her words. Her hands went to his. “Make love to me, Declan.” She repeated the words, sensing he needed to hear them.
And then he kissed her, sealing the promise inside the words with a hot, sensual claiming of her mouth. And as he moved, claiming her position on top and laying her down on the couch, she smiled.
On top. On the bottom. It really didn’t matter.
But making love. That mattered.
THE END
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