Page 18 of Going, Going, Gone
Chapter Twelve
Her head resting in the crook of Dylan’s shoulder, Nessa stirred. After she’d invited him to stay the night—and he’d happily accepted—he’d asked how early she needed to get up in the morning. Thankfully, today her first class wasn’t until 11:15 a.m., so she was able to sleep late. Once Dylan had heard that, he’d called his secretary’s phone at the office and left her a message he’d be in later than usual. Then he’d proceed to make sweet love to Nessa for the second of three times. Now, at a little past 8:00, she was deliciously sore in all the right places.
Dylan inhaled deeply, and Nessa’s head lifted and fell with the movement of his chest. He lightly rubbed her upper arm with his calloused palm. “You awake?”
“Surprisingly, yes. You wore me out last night.”
With his eyes still closed, he snorted. “I don’t recall hearing you complain.”
Turning her head slightly, she kissed his collarbone. “That’s because I didn’t.” She sighed. “I really don’t want to get up—”
“Then don’t,” he interrupted, tucking her further into his side.
She chuckled. “But my bladder is overruling my decision.”
After kissing the top of her head, he released her. She flipped the covers off her, yet left them draped over him, then climbed out of the bed. Once she’d taken care of business and brushed her teeth in the attached bath, she padded back into the bedroom. His eyes were now open and watching her intently, which caused her to blush at his scrutiny. She hadn’t covered her body and wasn’t used to walking around naked, especially in someone else’s presence.
Dylan held out his hand. “Come back to bed, my beautiful, blushing woman. We’ll cuddle and maybe sleep some more, then take a shower before I treat you to breakfast.”
Sitting on the bed, she swung her legs up and pulled the blanket and sheet back over her. “Sounds wonderful.”
Before she could lean down for a kiss, her cell phone rang on her night stand, where she’d placed it after retrieving glasses of water for both of them around midnight. Recognizing the phone number, she hastily swiped the screen to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Professor Adams? This is Jared Cherwonka from the Archaeological Society of Virginia.”
“Yes, hi. Please tell me you have good news.”
At her excited plea, Dylan sat up and leaned toward her, his hand resting on her back in encouragement. But Nessa’s shoulders sagged as she heard the lab director say, “I’m sorry, but I don’t. While we can confirm the artifacts are from the early to mid-1800’s, we weren’t able to extract any viable DNA cells from them. Time and the elements of the soil destroyed them.”
“I knew the odds were low, but I’d been hoping ...”
“I’d been hoping too. It would be a shame to see a part of history torn down because we only have circumstantial evidence at this point. I will send you a report with our findings though. If you do come across more evidence, the chronological dating will at least help back it up.”
“Thank you; I appreciate that. Thanks for expediting the results too.”
“My pleasure. Just wish it was better news for you.”
“Me too.” After saying goodbye, Nessa disconnected the call. Frowning, she tossed the phone on the night stand. “No DNA.”
“I’m sorry,” Dylan said softly, tugging her into his arms.
She was so disappointed, she didn’t know what else she could do. “Is—Is there any way you can push back the sale again?”
Dylan stiffened, and Nessa knew she shouldn’t have asked that of him. Propping himself up on his arm, he glared at her. “Is that why you’ve stayed with me? So, if you couldn’t get the proof you need, then I’d be more than happy to keep pushing back the sale date as long as I got something out of it. Did you decide to sleep with me before or after you realized there was a good chance the DNA wouldn’t come in, Nessa?”
Her eyes widened at his harshly spoken words. “I—that’s not why—” She shook her head in astonishment. “I can’t believe you just accused me of sleeping with you to—to—to ... God, you make me sound like a prostitute!” Rage coursed through her.How dare he?Flinging the covers off her, she stood and grabbed her robe from behind the closet door. She yanked it on and tied the belt tightly before opening the door to the hallway. “Get out.”
He’d already stood and was pulling on his pants. He was still angry, but his tone had become wary. “Nessa, listen—”
“No, Dylan. I’m not going to fucking listen. You just accused me of doing something despicable, and, right now, there’s nothing you can add that won’t make me want to start throwing things at you, so get the hell out.”
Her molars ground together as she watched him pull on his shirt and sneakers with jerky movements. His expression told her he was somewhere between pissed and remorseful, but she couldn’t tell which held more water with him. And she didn’t care.
Once he was dressed, and made sure he had his wallet, phone, and keys, he stalked across the room. In the doorway, he paused and pivoted toward her. “Nessa—”
She refused to look at him but held her head high. “Goodbye, Dylan.”
Without another word, he walked down the hallway. A moment later, her front door slammed. By the time she heard him drive away, she’d already collapsed on her bed in a fit of tears.Damn him.
