Page 36 of Dante
Shaking her head, she crawled into bed and closed her eyes in mortification. She had behaved badly but so had he! He had gotten off as much as she did.
Taking another breath, she struggled for calm and reasonable thinking. And realized she was starving. Swinging her legs off the bed, she made her way to the kitchen, determined to put it away until morning.
He spent the night at the office and realized he was torturing himself. Her scent was all over the tangled sheets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he dragged his hands over his face wearily. What the hell was he going to do? He wanted her. A harsh laugh escaped him at how inadequate that sounded. Wanted was too tame a word for what he was feeling. The need for her was so intense, it left a gut-wrenching feeling inside him that was not going to go away. It had taken a great amount of willpower for him not to beg her to stay.
In the past, women had always been a way for him to let off some steam and he could do without them. But this time, he knew deep inside him that it was different. Way different.
Chapter 10
She dressed with special care the next morning. After spending the time between consciousness after a restless night and making herself a cup of tea, she battled the cowardly decision to take the day off. She was not the type of person to duck out of her responsibilities because things had gone horribly wrong. She was going to face the situation and him. Her breath stuttered at the thought of seeing him after what they had shared last night.
He had seen her naked. He had performed the most intimate acts with her. He had been inside her. She swallowed tea and felt the rise of heat. He had come inside her, being inside her, all of him, without anything between them. She recalled vividly the way she had behaved like a wanton, like it was the first time she had ever been with a man.
She had been wildly passionate, uninhibited for the first time in her life. She had been unable to help herself. She had cried and screamed, and God help her, had moaned.
Putting down the cup, she rubbed her hands over her face as the memories haunted her. She had practically begged him to take her. With Michael, she had been restrained and thought that the sex was pleasant enough. Pleasant. That's what she had beencontent to settle for. He hadn't complained, but she had noticed the lack of excitement.
"Well, there was no lack there," she muttered. Pushing away from the counter, she stood in the middle of her tiny kitchen and wondered what the hell to do. She had almost picked up the phone to call her brother last night but was avoiding the explosion. He was going to be mad, and she could not blame him.
It had happened and there was no going back to undo it. It was done. But would she want to go back and undo anything? The sneaky voice whispered in her head, and she chose to ignore it. Time to get ready to face the music. Whatever the hell that was.
He knew he was taking the coward's way out, but that could not be helped right now. He just could not face her. And after spending a very restless night last night, he was tired down to the bone. He needed time to compose himself and decide which way to go. With that in mind, he placed his first call and made the arrangements.
The next call was more difficult.
It took him two minutes to place the call. He had left the office first thing this morning and was inside his apartment with a cup of coffee on the wide granite counter. He had a housekeeper who came in at ten and would leave before he returned. She was a good woman in her mid-fifties and as tidy as a church. She was also quiet and gave him his space.
He was not one to eat breakfast. Two cups of coffee could keep him going until lunch. His mornings were usually the busiest anyway. Rubbing his hand over his jaw, he absently noted that he needed a shave and a trim.
And he was procrastinating. Taking a deep breath, he dialed the number, skipping over the switchboard and going straight for her line.
"Mr. Livingston's office, how may I help?"
He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice and felt himself hardening.
"It's me."
Courtney's fingers clenched on the receiver and she had to steady herself.
"Mr. Livingston, good morning."
He gritted his teeth at her polite tone.
"I won't be coming in until the afternoon."
She paused and closed her eyes. Taking a deep quiet breath, she tried to appear nonchalant and completely professional. She had been relieved when she came in and was told by the guard that the boss was not here yet. She thought it would give her ample time to compose herself.
"I see," she murmured carefully. "You have a meeting with the CFO at nine. Should I ask him to reschedule?" She glancedat his packed itinerary. "I'm going to have to try and squeeze him in between the meeting with the zoning committee and the lawyers. It will be tight."
"Do what you must. How are you?"
"What?"
"Any more episodes?"
Episodes? Her mind blanked for a minute. So, he was not going to address the elephant in the room. Fine by her. She would play it just the way he was.
"No. Thank you for asking."
