Page 28 of Wedding Season
She glanced at her watch. “Since the clock turned midnight. It’s a new day. Maybe it’s a new me, too.”
“Your friends seem to like the old you.”
“They’re too nice for their own good. I don’t deserve them either.”
“That’s a theme with you. What you do or don’t deserve. Have you ever considered that you’re too hard on yourself?”
Maneuvering through this strange conversation in the dark, they’d shifted closer to each other. So close now that he could appreciate the warmth radiating from her skin and feel her soft breath whispering against his jaw. Mariella was taller than most women. He liked that about her. She had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. At least not by him.
“I know who I am and what I’ve done in life. The mistakes have piled up like dirty snow on the curb in the dead of winter. You know better than almost anyone that I’ve made terrible choices, long before your wedding day.”
He knew she was referring to Heather. The girl had seemed to recover from her initial upset and was back to running his life and company with the maturity of someone far older. But she would not talk about Mariella or even allow him to broach the subject of her motivations for being in Magnolia.
And her personal life belonged to her so Alex didn’t push the subject. He wasn’t going to push Mariella either. Not when she seemed so fragile.
“Everybody makes mistakes,” he told her.
She breathed out a laugh. “Do you know you’re quoting a Hannah Montana song?”
“I did not,” he admitted. “But she’s right, although somehow I don’t think Hannah Montana was the first person to utter those words.”
“Maybe the first person to put them to music,” she conceded. “It’s late and I have no business being here anyway. I wanted you to know I’m sorry. You don’t need to accept the apology or anything. I know this doesn’t change your feelings about me.”
Yet his feelings were changing. She wasn’t the entitled fashion maven or heartless wrecker of lives he’d thought back in New York City. It was easier when he could believe that about her, but he also understood it simply wasn’t true. Maybe it was the cover of darkness or the feeling of being emotionally wrung out after so long revisiting the past, but his defenses were down.
He didn’t want to be alone or to feel alone right now. Maybe he no longer believed in love or wanted for himself what Cam had with Emma, but he was sick of the loneliness. And Mariella was so close and so intriguing that Alex put aside all of his good sense, at least for the moment. He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers. He should have known nothing would be simple or straightforward with this woman.
A kiss should be easy. He’d kissed plenty of women both before and after Amber. Yet nothing with Mariella went according to plan. Because the moment their lips touched, it was like a tornado of feeling swirling through him.
Yes, his body seemed to say.
This. Her.Mine.
None of those things could be true, but he couldn’t stop the swell of emotion any more than he could stop a tornado’s destructive funnel. Need tore through him, ripping away his moorings and good sense in one tremendous surge. Mariella moaned against him and pressed her body into his. At least he wasn’t the only one lost to desire.
He cupped his hand on either side of her face, smoothing his fingertips over the delicate strands of her blond hair. He had to anchor himself somehow. Otherwise, he’d be tempted to take this moment further than was smart for either of them. Her soft skin and the curves of her body tempted him more than he could have guessed.
Her lips parted and their tongues mingled, the kiss quickly moving from an exploratory spark to a full-on blaze of need and desire. So much for scratching an itch. This was more than he bargained for, which shouldn’t have surprised him.
Because Mariella surprised him at every turn.
She pulled away suddenly, her eyes hazy and unfocused, her mouth swollen and her cheeks flushed. He’d done that to her, made her lose control if only for a few seconds, and the satisfaction made him inordinately pleased.
“I didn’t come here for that,” she said quietly.
“I know. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“It can’t happen again,” she agreed.
“No.”
Her eyes, which were already comic-book princess large, widened even further. “No?”
“Or yes,” he amended. “I agree with you. Not again. Ever.”
“Ever,” she repeated.
“You should go, Mariella. It’s late and if this—” he gestured between the two of them “—isn’t going to happen again, you should go.”
