Page 55 of Strangers in Love

What had I done?

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

The light was too dim to allow me to read his expression, and I was grateful for it. Impassive or uninterested would have been the best I could hope for, but I was terrified that I’d see disgust or horror, something that confirmed what I thought he was thinking. He still hadn’t said a single word, and the longer the silence went on, the more I felt the need to fill it with something. Anything.

“I didn’t mean anything by it.” My stomach twisted, and I wondered if I was going to top off my utter disgrace by throwing up. “I mean, not that it was an accident, because it wasn’t. I meant to do it, but I was thinking about how safe I felt with you and how much I wanted to forget my nightmare and forget what’d happened to me.”

I was vaguely aware that I’d started rambling, but even that was better than neither of us speaking at all.

“Not that I would’ve kissed just any random man who happened to be sitting on my bed in the middle of the night. I don’t want you to think I’m that sort of person. I mean, we obviously don’t know each other well, but I know that you saved my life at the risk of your own, and you didn’t try to take advantage of the fact that we’re alone in a hotel room, so I know you’re a good man.”

He flinched, the involuntary movement barely visible, but I’d seen it. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed that it’d been in response to my comment that he was a good man. I wondered if he was thinking about the men he’d killed back at the place I’d been held, but I didn’t bring it up. My brain was still frantically trying to convince me that I could say something to repair the damage I’d done with my rash action.

And then a horrible thought made its presence known.

“Oh shit. You’re not married, are you?” I tried to look at his hand, but then realized that even if he was married, he probably wouldn’t have worn his wedding ring to do a covert rescue, especially if his cover was going to include being the type of man who’d bring a prostitute to his room in the middle of the night.

“I’m not married,” he said quietly, the first words he’d spoken since I’d kissed him. “Not engaged or dating either.”

“Oh.”

The fact that he felt the need to point out that he was available but had still rejected me hurt more than it should. If he’d been married, I would’ve felt awful, but I would have admired him for being faithful even if he hadn’t been attracted to me. Engaged or in a serious relationship, I would’ve pretty much felt the same way. But he wasn’t involved with anyone. He just didn’t want me.

“That’s good.” I was thankful the lights were off, and he couldn’t see the tears welling up in my eyes. It was stupid to cry over this, but I wasn’t exactly in the best place emotionally at the moment, so I allowed for a little leeway and kept talking. “Notgoodin a vindictive way, like I’m glad you’re alone and single, but good because I would’ve felt terrible if I’d kissed another person’s husband or fiancé or boyfriend. And it would’ve put you in an awkward spot. I mean, when something like this happens, do you tell your partner or not, right?”

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, hoping he’d assume that I was tired. If there was one thing that could make this situation worse, it would be Eoin realizing I was trying not to cry.

“I’m honestly surprised you’re single.” My mouth just wouldn’t stop. “But I’m not really shocked that you’re not interested in me like that. You probably have women all over you wherever you go. Or men, if that’s what you’re into. Walk into a bar, smile, and have your pick of people to take to bed. If we’d met that way, I’d never have expected you to choose me, so it makes sense that you’re not attracted to me sexually. I don’t think I’m ugly or anything, but I’ve never been the woman who has men flocking to her, picking her over the curvy brunette or the sexy redhead.”

I shrugged and hoped it made my confession a little less pathetic, made it into something more blasé and casual. I hadn’t meant to tell him all of that. I didn’t tell anyone the way I’d always felt with men. Growing up, I’d been years younger than my classmates, and when I’d gone to college, I hadn’t even been legal until my second year.

Even if any of the men there had wanted to date me, they would’ve had to risk a lot on the chance that my family wouldn’t try to make a legal issue of it. By the time I’d turned eighteen, I’d realized that my age hadn’t been the only deterrent. Most men didn’t want a woman smarter than them, and even though I’d never flaunted my intelligence, I’d been well-known around Stanford for my academic achievements.

It wasn’t until now that I wondered if I’d ever understood things at all. Maybe the reason I’d never had luck with men wasn’t because of my age or my IQ, but rather the simple fact that I wasn’t the sort of woman who attracted male attention. At least not positive attention, anyway. The way Serle had acted with me wasn’t attraction, not really. He was the kind of man who felt that women ‘owed’ him for one reason or another. They were a possession. Something to be owned and used however he saw fit.

I looked down at my hands, consciously uncurling my fingers to see four curved imprints in each palm. “It’s all right. I wasn’t thinking.” My voice had softened until I no longer knew if he could hear it, but I wasn’t really talking to him anymore. “If I had been, I would’ve realized that a man like you would never want me like that.”

“Aline.”

He sounded…strange.

Certain that he was going to tell me to stop talking, to stop pitying myself, I raised my head. My eyes met his, and it felt like all the air had gone out of the room. The intensity in his gaze was like nothing I’d ever experienced before, and I didn’t know what it meant. I sensed a struggle going on inside him but didn’t know what it was.

I didn’t move. Barely breathed. I just waited to see what he would do next.

Then, without a word, he reached for me, his hand curling around the back of my neck and pulling me to him. Our mouths crashed together, and I gasped. His tongue swept between my lips, teased and explored. It was electric, making me feel more alive than I’d ever felt before. I leaned into him, letting him take control, letting him lead. I’d follow him anywhere if he just kept kissing me.

I’d been kissed before, but never like this. A pressing together of lips that was more awkward than erotic. Fumbling boys who didn’t seem to know what to do. This was my firstrealkiss, and what a kiss it was.

Thirty-Nine

Eoin

I hadn’t expectedAline to kiss me. Not when we’d first met. Not when we’d gotten here. And not when I’d come out of the bathroom in only a towel. Sure, I’d noticed how hot Aline was. Hell, I’d fantasized about her when I was in the shower.

But her kissing me? No fucking way.

We both came from families who had money, but that didn’t mean we were in the same league. In fact, she was so far out of my league that I never would’ve looked twice at her under other circumstances.

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