Capturing her hands in his, Cesar nuzzled her neck, her mouth, her cheeks with his sharp stubble, until she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to stay with him, so they could grow closer in every way there was.
There was a rustle of foil, and then he turned her so her back was to his chest. ‘I promise you’ll sleep tonight,’ he murmured, the sexy smile in his voice, encouraging her, as before, to lose control.
Had she really chosen her bed over his? Had that encounter in the hay barn really happened?
Determined to cling to reason, she reasoned that Cesar had made no attempt to prevent her leaving. He took his pleasure where he found it—no strings, no consequences, and she was a fool if she read anything more into it than that. But reason wasn’t enough to stop her hurting and wanting, or longing for a different type of closeness with Cesar. Leaning back against her bedroom door, eyes tightly shut and with her body still singing with remembered pleasure, she could only rail silently against yet another missed opportunity for them to talk.
Had Cesar been looking for conversation?
She hadn’t exactly been talkative herself. If things had been different, if the regime they’d embarked on in preparation for the matches hadn’t been so demanding...
If only, if only, if only. But would you have stated your case and taken the consequences, whatever they might be?
If there was a major fallout between them, it would impact the whole team, and with the charity matches coming up fast none of them needed more ripples right now.
So you’re burying it? What about the plan to thwart your blackmailer?
Grinding her teeth, as if that would shut out her inner critic, she determined to keep a tight rein on her emotions, and only tell Cesar the whole story when launching preventative measures against the blackmailer would have minimum impact on anyone else.
What about all those people you’re supposed to be protecting? The people at your retreat, your brothers, Cesar?
A soft yelp of desperation escaped her throat. Her retreat was full to capacity with vulnerable people. She’d been looking for ways to open another—
And now?
Pulling away from the door, she headed out.
She found Cesar in the deserted kitchen, drinking coffee and demolishing a pizza. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you.’
‘You’re not.’
The flatness of his statement pinned her to the spot. There was no warmth in his eyes and no recollection of remembered pleasure, as far as she could tell. Cesar had sated one of his needs and now he was sating another...with pizza.
So retreat or advance. Your choice.
She moved deeper into the room. ‘I’m not here for the reason you suppose.’
‘And what is that?’
Holding his black stare was a challenge she met gladly, though there was no hint of the generous lover Cesar had been only a short time before.
‘What am I thinking?’ he pressed.
‘That I’ve changed my mind about spending the night with you?’
A few long seconds passed, during which Cesar drank more coffee and ate more pizza. ‘Why would you do that?’ he asked, his sharp gaze suspicious. ‘The little I know about you says you only do what you want to do, when you want to do it.’
The sudden realisation that Cesar thought her as coldblooded as him came as an unpleasant shock, but what else could he think after reading the article she had supposedly written?
The one thing she must not do was risk turning this into a confrontation. She needed help, and couldn’t be too proud to ask him. ‘I need to talk to you—really talk to you,’ she explained. ‘Now would be good, if that’s okay with you? It’s important, Cesar,’ she stressed when he shrugged.
‘Have you finally decided to apologise for the article?’ he suggested with a keen, sideways look.
‘I can explain how it came about, and was then changed without my knowledge before it went to print.’
‘That’s some story. You want me to believe you’re an innocent dupe,’ he suggested. ‘Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.’
‘Cesar, please—’
