Page 84 of If the Slipper Fits
Her gaze shot to his. “The signs?”
“Yes. Your innocence was right there in front of me.” His eyes warmed as he smiled down at her. “Your tell-tale blushes? Needing me to spell-out everything concerning the lax societal rules at house parties? Among other things.”
She glared at him.
“I took advantage of you. I missed the signs precisely because I wanted to miss them.”
She’d had enough. “Caden Thurgood, you did not take advantage of me. I am a woman grown, fully capable of making my own decisions. May I remind you it wasIwho came to your bed chamber earlier tonight, alone, knowing full well what the ramifications of that decision might be? It wasIwho initiated the last kiss we shared.”
“Yes, but--”
“Furthermore, I find it insulting that you hide behind platitudes rather than admit the plain truth.”
He cocked his head, a frown pulling at his mouth. “Which is?”
She lifted her chin. “You have no taste for greenhorn, inexperienced women and now find me,” she swallowed, “repugnant.”
An odd expression crossed his too-handsome face.
“You needn’t worry. I don’t expect a repeat of,” she made an inarticulate sound and a vague gesture with her hand and prayed the golden firelight would not reveal the hot flush scalding her cheeks. “In fact, I suggest we go on as if nothing untoward ever occurred. But I will not,will not,allow you to treat me like a child who did not act of her free will.”
“Anna—"
“Perhaps I’m being too hard on you. You can’t help taking responsibility. Your innate chivalry drives you to take up the cause for everyone and everything that crosses your path—”
“Anna,” he said more loudly.
Misery settled over her. She’d said too much, as usual. “Yes?”
A soft laugh of incredulity escaped him. “Did you really conclude that I no longer find you desirable?”
“It’s as plain as the bruise on your face, and of no consequence, I assure you.”
One corner of his mouth curved up in a laconic smile. “How very clever of you to work that out on your own.”
“Thank you.” She imagined herself stomping down hard on his bare foot. Not that she wore any shoes. It would probably hurt her more than him.
“Before we conclude this fascinating conversation—”
“As far as I’m concerned we’ve quite exhausted the topic—"
“—I need to tell you something.”
A change in subject suited her just fine. She folded her arms over her chest. “Go on.”
“Earlier, I went out intent on uncovering the identity of the guest whose arrival precipitated one of us”—He gestured toward himself—“vacating his room. There’s no easy way to say this.”
“I always find the direct approach works best.”
“So you do.” He reached out to squeeze her shoulder, his grip warm and gentle. “Baron Bolton arrived tonight.”
She jerked and he grasped her other shoulder, steadying her.
“I planned to wait ’til morning to discuss the matter but one of us insisted on talking tonight.” His full mouth quirked upward as he tucked an escaped lock of her hair behind her ear.
She shivered at the tenderness of his touch, and reminded herself not to read anything into it. He’d admitted he no longer desired her. This was Caden being Caden, offering comfort, offering strength.
“We must exercise caution, of course, but in light of his inebriated state when last I saw him, I assume he won’t arise with the dawn. An early morning departure will work best.”
