Page 93 of The Refusal

She focuses on me now with a small frown.

“She’s with you at events, she’s in your apartment, you are photographed all the time with beautiful women—”

“I’veneverbeen dishonest with you.” The words come out in a low rush, and I wince at how sharp my voice sounds, but how can she be so uncertain about me, about us, when I feel so sure.

“Were you sleeping with other people while we … in Hong Kong …” She tails off.

What? “No! Ofcoursenot.”

Does she think I’m evencapableof lying to her? Everything inside rises up like a wave. I slam my hand on the wheel. “Damn it all to hell, Jo. I’m fuckingcrazyabout you. Hong Kong meant everything to me. I’vetoldyou how it is; I thought youtrusted me. I’ve never slept with Aubrey, and I’ve never wanted her or in fact any other woman—”

But before I can finish my sentence, she’s climbing over me and grabbing my head, pressing her mouth to mine, and the rest of my words come mumbling out into her kiss.

“—the way I want you.”

Her lips are soft and eager, tongue stealing out, and I groan as I lose it completely, burying my fingers into her silky hair, tightening into fists. I pull back, desperate to somehow get us back to where I thought we were earlier this evening.

“Please, Jo, I—”

“Shh,” she says, pressing a warm finger over my lips.

“There’snothinggoing on with Aubrey,” I mumble against it.

“Okay.”

Her mouth is over mine again, and I can’t shape my mind around any words.Are we okay here?But she’s resting against me, and God help me my whole body goes wired. My hand sneaks beneath her thin T-shirt, and a loud groan vibrates up and out of my throat. She’s not wearing a bra, and the knowledge she’s been bare all day sends a shiver through me: Her secret nakedness ismine. She’s soft and perfect under my hand, and her nipple hardens as I rub my thumb back and forth, so I bring my other hand around from right up the back of her top and cup both her breasts as she arches back. Her T-shirt is rucked up her torso, legs splayed over my lap, and I want nothing more than to trace the path of the freckles I can see on her stomach.

“Come back to my place,” I whisper. “Let me drive you crazy all night.”

She shifts forward to rest her forehead against mine, sucks in a shuddering breath. “I was going to come and see you the minute I got back. I read theWall Street Journalarticle and thought it was such an amazing thing to do.” She presses a shaky kiss to my lips. “But then I saw the interview with Aubrey on the plane coming back from Korea. She was in your apartment and I started to think I’d got it all wrong, that you’d had a thing with her for a long time and I’d been a distraction, but all along you’d wantedher. I thought perhaps both of you were playing games.”

My mind blanks. Wait.What?She thoughtwhat?A distraction?I reach up to smooth her hair back from her face, trying to straighten in my seat and shaking my head at her; a knot forming in my stomach.

“No, Jo. No. I’ve never been that way with her. Print magazines have ridiculously long lead times, and that interview was done before I even met you. She’s a friend, arguably a bit of a crazy one, but nothing more. I basically told thatWall Street Journalinterviewer I was in love with you.”

“You said, ‘Every guy would love Jo Williams, but she’s been the consummate professional with me.’”

“Yeah.”

“I started to think you meant that in an ‘every-guy-would-love-Jo’ kind of way.” Her voice drops to a whisper: “That the paper twisted what you said.”

Oh,God.I lean back against my seat and close my eyes.

“I said, ‘Every guy wouldfall in lovewith Jo Williams.’ I was talking about falling in love with you.” I open my eyes. “Aubrey’s husband is an obsessive asshole, he’s completely consumed her, her life. She plays games with him and she loves it. I think they both get off on it, I can’t begin to understand their relationship.” Her eyes are locked on mine, green irises flecked with brown. I blow out a long breath. “She’s never held any interest for me. She really is a friend, Jo.”

She nods at this, leaning in to lick my bottom lip, and my mouth chases hers when she tries to pull away. I slide my hand up into her hair, holding her still while my tongue wraps around hers, heat burning down my body. Eventually, she shifts on my knee, moving backwards.

“I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what I was expecting her to say.

“What? Why?”

She opens her mouth, but the tension is seeping out of me now and the need to get my own apology out there rushes through me. “I’m sorry, too. Sorry for Aubrey. Sorry I was angry. You have no idea.” I run a hand through my hair, and she stares at the top of my head with a dopey smile on her face. “The comment on that photographin The Gazettedidn’t show you in a good light. It was sexist. You were totally right for wanting to keep this quiet.”

Her eyes go wide, blinking back down to mine. “No I wasn’t, Janus.”

“What?”

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