Page 17 of One Dangerous Desire
“Already in the drawing room.” Rex spoke from the bottom of the stairs.
Emily shot her a guilty look. “Mr. Leighton asked if he might speak to you. I hope I was correct to assist him.”
“It’s all right, Em.” May remained at the top of the stairs. She wasn’t ready to give up her patch of high ground quite yet. “What is it, Mr. Leighton?”
Rather than answer, he pointed toward the house’s back terrace. “Can I interest you in a breath of fresh air?”
He infused the question with a hint of challenge, and the blasted man knew she rarely backed down from one of those. She had to go. To put an end to the awkwardness between them, if nothing else.
“Very well, Mr. Leighton. Five minutes and not a minute more.”
Chapter Six
HE DIDN’T HAVEmuch time. Beyond May’s dictate that she’d give him only five minutes, he wished for a moment alone before the evening’s meal to speak to Basil Thorndike, a London real estate maven in attendance who owned the site Rex hoped to acquire for the Pinnacle.
First, he needed to clear the air with May. He suspected she wasn’t going to make it easy. Whatever she’d experienced in the six years since they’d last known each other, the easy-to-smile girl had grown into a warier woman. Her eyes sparked with the same exuberance, and she still brightened a room with her presence. Yet she seemed more watchful. More guarded.
She marched ahead of him with a determined stride and stopped just beyond the threshold of the terrace, as if she didn’t trust him, or herself, to venture out into the darkness together.
“I think it right that we have this moment together, Mr. Leighton.”
Rex grinned at her pronouncement. Some things hadn’t changed. Her ability to turn every situation to her own advantage, as if it had all been arranged on her behalf in the first place, had always amused him. It made her seem indomitable. As if nothing could thwart her. Of all the qualities he’d loved about May, he admired her tenacity most of all.
“I agree, especially since I suggested it.”
“Yes, well, I . . . ” After clearing her throat, she reached a gloved hand up to her neck as if the diamond choker there had cut off her air.
The moment he stepped forward, she lifted a hand to stop him, snatching it back when her fingers brushed the front of his shirt.
“I have something to say to you, if you’d do me the kindness of remaining over there.” She waved a gloved hand to shoo him away.
Deciding to indulge her, he took two steps back.
For a moment, she looked lost, as if she’d forgotten whatever she intended to say and wasn’t sure how they’d ended up on the back terrace together at all. She looked vulnerable, and it stoked a tenderness in him that he’d only ever felt for her. No one else had ever been able to find that protective, soft part of his heart, the existence of which he would vehemently deny.
She tilted her head up as if examining the stars before looking back at him again. This time more composed, every inch the polished, ladylike heiress.
“I forgive you, Mr. Leighton.” Her voice arced through the night, the words spoken lightly, almost flippantly.
They struck him like a current, the power of her declaration reverberating through him.I forgive you.He hadn’t realized how much he’d craved her forgiveness. Needed to hear the sentiment from her lips. None of the excuses and justifications he’d piled up over the years could do what she’d done in one breathy proclamation.
Yet it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Some relentless, stubborn part of him wanted to break through her cool manner and know that she truly felt forgiveness. Anyone could say the words. He had to get at May’s heart.
He moved toward her. This time she didn’t raise a hand to ward him off.
“If you’re going to forgive me, I want to know why.” Another step and he drew close enough to touch her, to get drunk on her floral scent. “And you should call me Rex. We’re beyond formalities, May.”
“Who is Rex?” she scoffed. “Who is this person you’ve become?” She tipped her head as if she might divine some hidden truth by scrutinizing his face. “We’re not past formalities because I’m not sure I know who you are anymore. You’ve changed your name, your manner, your entire life in the years we’ve been apart.”
I’m the same man.Unbidden, unwanted, the words percolated up. As if he kept his former self chained in a pit somewhere deep in his soul, and the poor bastard refused to give in.
Rex swallowed down the foolish notion. He wasn’t the same. Everything he’d built for himself, all he’d done to achieve it, proved he was no longer the man she’d once known. That man had been weak, without hope. Until she’d walked into that glassware shop and looked at him as if he could be—should be—much more than a poorly paid shop clerk.
“Why forgive me, then?”
“Because you apologized, of course.” She moved slowly, stepping toward him until the skirt of her gown pressed against his legs and her bodice brushed his chest. Dark lashes fanned against the pale skin above her eyes when she looked up at him, and he gritted his teeth to keep from reaching for her. He knew just how she’d fit against him if he pulled her near, remembered precisely how her curves softened all his rough edges.
“It was a bit overdue, I must say.” Sharpness cut through the usual lilt in her voice. “Most people who apologize are seeking to be forgiven for their actions. Weren’t you asking for my forgiveness?”
