Page 59 of Bedding his Innocent Mistress

“Believe me, Ivy, I know how I feel about you. What is far harder to establish is how you feel for me.”

Ivy opened her mouth, gaping, like a fish thrown from the sea. Words failed her. “I’m not… Rafe…” she lifted her hand and squeezed his bicep, trying to say what she needed to say. “This isn’t about Steve. It’s… you and I make no sense. Even without the fact that I’m… not ready to be with someone else.”

“You’re not ready to be… Cristo! What do you think we’ve been doing this past month?”

“Having sex,” she said quietly, her heart thumping violently at the insufficient description.

“I see.” He stepped backwards, his eyes glinting like shards of black diamond in his face. “And that’s all we are to you?”

She swallowed, seeing Steve, seeing Rafe, hating herself, hating her confusion and doubt.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want, more than anything, to avoid that. But I can’t lie to you. I lost the love of my life earlier this year and my heart isn’t … I’m not myself. I’m n

ot… I can’t ignore what I lost and how it felt. I can’t just… fall in and out of love.”

The colour drained from Rafe’s face, but he straightened, and when he looked at her, it was with the cool disdain she imagined he employed in the boardroom.

“I think you should go then.”

He spun on his heel and stalked towards the bathroom. She contemplated going after him, but he slammed the door, and a second later, she heard the lock click into place.

She dressed quickly, tears marking the fine silk of her dress.

She hailed a cab home; Rafe, and all that came with dating Rafe, was now a part of her past. And she told herself that she’d made the right decision, even when she felt as though she was walking through the flames of hell.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“YOU SEE IVES, IT’S like this.” Steve had a croissant crumb on the corner of his mouth. It was lifting and falling with each word he spoke, distracting her. Or maybe that was the fact she’d hardly slept. Maybe it was the fact Rafe hadn’t called.

And she’d wanted him to.

She hadn’t called him. It hadn’t felt fair. Not after what she’d told him.

He loved her?

“I just didn’t want you to be the only person I’d ever been with, you know? If we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, don’t you think it’s right that we at least saw what else was out there?”

Ivy’s frown deepened. “You’re engaged to marry someone else,” she said stiffly.

“Yeah, but, that was just… I got caught up in the excitement of it all.” He laughed nervously. “Like you and Santoro.”

Ivy’s heart squeezed.

“But I never stopped loving you, babe.”

Ivy cupped her hands around her coffee and looked at the café. They’d come here every Saturday morning, from when they’d moved into the house. He’d ordered a croissant, and she’d chosen the frittata, and they’d sat opposite one another, reading the papers, drinking coffee in what Ivy had told herself was a contented silence.

But so much of their relationship had been comprised of contented silence. Where had the passion been? The need to share every detail of their days? To confide their fears and needs, their hopes, their dreams?

“Just say the word, and I’ll move back in.”

Ivy straightened in her seat, the dichotomy of what Steve was offering and what she wanted now painfully apparent.

“What about your fiancé?”

“She’ll live.”

Ivy swore under her breath.

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