“It weighs too much. Fills you with obligation and gives others leverage over you.”
“Like the way you exploited my love for my father to pressure me into marrying you?”
“Yes.”
Her brow flinched, but that wasn’t new information. She seemed to mentally brush it aside. “You were marrying Mira for the company? Same as me?”
“Yes. We’ve known each other for years. I’ve dined with her and Otto enough to say we’re more than acquaintances. Once we were engaged, we went to a lot of functions together, but…” Could it even be called dating? “Honestly,thatwas more of a paid escort situation. Without the sex,” he added with self-deprecation.
“You didn’t have sex with her?” She tucked her chin, skeptical.
“Now who’s making snap judgments about promiscuity?”
“It’s not promiscuous to have sex within a committed relationship. You were engaged for a long time.” She was still wearing a look of incredulity. “It’s a reasonable assumption that you would have slept with her.”
“I barely kissed her.” It seemed important to him that she know that, but he didn’t dwell on why. “I wasn’t attracted to her, and I was under the impression her interest was directed elsewhere.”
“But you were going to marry her anyway?”
“It was a business arrangement.”
“Isn’t that what this is?” She pointed between them. “Would you have had sex with her if you actually married her?”
“Probably not,” he said truthfully. “We had planned to divorce after a year, same as this. I didn’t expect our engagement to last so long, but it turns out you don’t actually die if you don’t have sex. It just feels like you will.”
“But you want to have sex with me?” That was not an invitation. It was barely a question. Her arms were folded, her shoulders stiff. Unreceptive.
“I do,” he said, keeping a tight rein on his libido.
“Why? Because you’re horny after going without for so long? And I’m convenient?” Her jaw lifted to a belligerent angle, but her eyes were full of watchful, vulnerable shadows.
His desire for her was far more personal than that, not that he was comfortable admitting it. “I want to have sex with you because we react to each other. Whether this level of desire is convenient is very much up for debate.” His guts were tangled in knots of want and his own resistance, not wanting to be pulled this hard. “What exactly is the reason for this line of questioning? Are you angry that I called this a honeymoon? We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to.” It hurt at a cell-deep level to say that. His libido howled and fought being shoved into its crate.
“I don’t think I’d sell that lie very convincingly after what happened on the plane, would I?” She looked past him to the windows, cheeks bright pink, brow gathered in disgruntlement. “That’s why I thought you must think I’m someone who falls into bed with anyone who flips a bill at me.”
“I don’t.” The sharp claws that were clenched around his vitals shifted, taking a piercing grip into his groin. “This is a conversation we should have, though, so tell me what you’re thinking.”
“That I wish I was the sort of person who did sleep around,” she admitted with a tight press of her lips. “I’ve only slept with one man, and I attached way too much emotion to it. That didn’t serve me at all.”
One?
“The man you lived with?” How could he instantly feel so much resentment toward a stranger? A single, solitary man with whom she regretted becoming too attached. “What happened?”
“Short answer? I let him use me.” She sent him a faint, ironic smile as she let that penetrate. “Not in the way you’re doing it. At least you’re open about how you want to use me.” She looked to the floor, brow heavy with self-recrimination. “I didn’t see what he was doing for a long time.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It was gradual. Like, he forgot his wallet so I would buy lunch. Then it was bigger items. A jacket he wanted. He would promise to pay me back, but when I asked him about it, he’d point out that his parents hadn’t set up a college fund for him the way mine had. Somehow, he made me feel petty for having more and wanting to be paid back. It was a rough time. I had just lost Mom and learned that Lorena was dead. I wanted someone in my life I could count on.”
“And he took advantage of that.” He really did hate this other man.
“He said that living together would be cheaper, and it was. For him,” she said on a snort. “I paid the rent. He swore that it would all wash out as soon as he got through dental school and started working. I don’t know if it was a line or if he really believed it, but I believed it. So, when he couldn’t finish an assignment, I did it for him. When his tuition was due, I paid it. And when it came down to choosing between my dance aspirations or working full-time to pay the bills, I picked the wrong horse. I thought he was my person, though. That we were in love. You support the people you love, right?”
This was the problem with love. It became a liability. It might be nice to have, but it did not pay the bills.
“He told you he loved you? To keep you there?” It was exactly the guilt trip that tightened his skin and made him prickly with ire.
She nodded, expression flexing in shame.
