Page 61 of Recipe for Temptation

Provided he got the opportunity.

Smiling down at Reese, he gently combed his fingers through the thick, lustrous strands of black hair fanned out across her pillow. She closed her eyes, but not in languid pleasure. She looked strained, as if she were waging an internal battle.

He found himself holding his breath, wondering which side would win.

A long, nerve-racking silence stretched between them.

When Michael couldn’t take it anymore, he decided his only option was to tackle the unwelcome elephant in the room.

“You’re having second thoughts about last night.”

Reese’s eyes opened. She hesitated, then nodded tightly. “It was a mistake.”

Anger flared inside his chest. “It sure as hell didn’t feel like a mistake.”

It was the wrong thing to say, the wrong approach to use.

She scooted away from him and sat up quickly, clutching the sheet protectively to her chest. Her cheeks were still flushed from hours of savage lovemaking, her lips were still swollen from hard kissing, her hair was tousled about her face and shoulders, and beneath the sheet, her luscious breasts beckoned to him.

She was unbelievably beautiful.

And too damn tempting for her own good.

Michael reached for her. “Reese?—”

She moved away from him.

“Shit.” He fell back against his stack of pillows and blew out a harsh, frustrated breath. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He’d been looking forward to spending a few more pleasurable hours in bed with her. And then he’d imagined them cooking breakfast together, divvying up the tasks, making a silly game of “accidentally” bumping into each other as they worked side by side. He’d envisioned them laughing, teasing, stealing hot little kisses as they carried their plates out to the balcony to enjoy the scenic view.

But maybe his expectations had been as unrealistic as those of the women who’d wanted him to cuddle during the night.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Reese dragged a hand through her hair. “You should probably take me home now.”

“No. Not yet.” Michael was surprised—and slightly appalled—by the note of desperation he heard in his voice. What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he beg a woman to stay after sex?

Reese looked at him, those dark cat eyes roving across his face in silent appraisal. She seemed to be taking his measure, weighing an important decision in her mind.

He stared back at her, waiting.

After a prolonged moment, she glanced away and shook her head. “I owe you an apology.”

Of all the things he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them. He stared at her in surprise. “What do you have to apologize for?” he asked carefully.

She tugged her plump lower lip through her teeth. “I haven’t been myself lately,” she confessed.

“Who have you been?”

“A woman who doesn’t know what she wants. A confused, indecisive woman.” She grimaced. “The kind of woman I’ve always disliked and strived not to be.”

Intrigued by the self-deprecating words, Michael shifted onto his side to face her, propping his head in his hand. “Why don’t you know what you want?” he asked quietly.

She sighed heavily. “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Believe me, I wish that were true.” She heaved another resigned breath. “Anyway, the reason I owe you an apology is that I’ve been giving you mixed signals since the night we met. I say one thing and do the complete opposite. Spending the night with you was the behemoth of all mixed signals.”

“You don’t hear me complaining,” Michael drawled.

---