Page 43 of Legal Attraction
He stepped closer to her. “You’re the most passionate woman I’ve ever known.”
“Is that a nice way of calling me a slut again?” she asked as she tried desperately to hang on to her anger. It was safer to be madatRonan than to be madabouthim.
He chuckled. “I never called you a slut.”
“Liar.”
“I just let other people call you that,” he said, and his handsome face twisted into a grimace of regret. “I’m sorry about that.”
“You believe me now?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come. He wasn’t any more sure of her than she was of him.
But did it matter right now?
She wanted him too much to care about the past. Neither of them could change that. It had already happened.
She wasn’t worried about it happening again. She wasn’t married now. She probably wouldn’t get married again. Obviously, she couldn’t trust her judgment.
And because she couldn’t trust her judgment, she wasn’t ever going to risk her heart again. So she was safe having sex with Ronan—because sex was all it would ever be.
She also wanted a little revenge, though, for all the terrible things he’d had McCann Public Relations spread around about her.
“Muriel,” he began.
But she pressed her fingers to his lips to stop him. “Shh...” she said. “Don’t say anything you don’t one hundred percent believe.”
He closed his mouth.
And regret tugged at her. But after what he’d told her about his mother, she shouldn’t have been surprised that he would find it hard to believe her—especially when so many people, people she’d thought were her friends—had testified against her.
He touched her chin, tipping it up. She hadn’t even realized she’d bowed her head.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again.
She shrugged. “I don’t believe you one hundred percent, either.”
After Arte and those people she’d thought were her friends had betrayed her, she couldn’t trust anyone, least of all the divorce lawyer who’d represented her ex.
He flinched but said, “I understand.”
“But tonight, it doesn’t matter what’s truth or fiction,” she said. “Tonight, nothing matters but pleasure...”
“I’ll give you pleasure,” he promised as he lowered his head and brushed his mouth across hers. His lips clung, nibbled, and his breath panted out between them.
It had been too long since he’d kissed her. It had only been days but it felt like years. Long years.
And she knew in this he spoke the truth. He would give her pleasure. But that wasn’t all she wanted tonight. She stepped back, away from his kiss.
He opened his eyes and stared down at her, his jaw tense, as if he was worried she had changed her mind. So she reached for his hand and tugged him along with her toward her open bedroom door.
And he chuckled. “So you’re going to take me up on my offer?”
She wouldn’t have been able to refuse. “I have one of my own,” she told him as she dropped her hand and walked over to her closet. “Let me show you a really good time.”
“Did Bette design something new for you?” he asked, and he almost sounded like a kid asking if Santa Claus had delivered presents.
“Bette’s always designing something new,” Muriel said—with surprise that her friend could think of so many things to do with bows. “I guess she’s been particularly inspired lately.” Thanks to his friend.
