His expression shifted, showing her his serious side. 'I can't stand the thought of you sleeping with another man.'
He sounded and looked so vulnerable she wanted to weep. 'It's not up to you to decide who I sleep with, Grey. Not anymore. And you have no right to…to…'
'Make love to you?' he offered. They hadn't consummated the act, but it had been just as intimate, if not more so because of their covert setting.
'Yes!' There weren't many people in the park, but the few that were around turned and stared at them. She gave them a wan smile.
Grey lowered his voice in deference to their audience.
She gasped. She couldn't help herself, because the images his words projected in her mind were shocking. He was so bad! 'You didn't give me a chance to say no! You knew exactly what you were doing the day you sent me that package from P.J.'s.'
'Ah, P.J.'s,' he murmured reflectively. Standing with legs apart, he folded his arms across his chest and stroked his chin with his fingers. His eyes sparkled wickedly. 'I quite enjoyed shopping for you there. And you weren't opposed to wearing what I sent.' He perused the length of her lazily, visually stripping away her tank top and cotton shorts and leaving her breathless as a result. 'As far as I was concerned, the moment I realized you were wearing the stockings I sent, you were mine.'
'That is so chauvinistic!'
He shrugged. 'It's the truth. I know you better than you think. You might have attended the party with Richard, but your heart and mind were with me all the way. And I don't think I have to remind you how hot your body was… for me.'
He played dirty, getting her right where she was most defenseless. Unable to believe they were having this argument in a public park, she started in the direction of her condo. 'You're crazy,' she said, shaking her head.
He caught her arm. 'Crazy for you, just like you're crazy for me.' His gaze pierced her to her soul. 'Look me in the eyes and deny it.'
She couldn't. Any denial she might have spouted lodged in her throat and her gaze couldn't quite meet his. The fingers around her arms branded her, and when he brushed his thumb across the soft flesh of her inner elbow, she shivered.
He continued on ruthlessly. 'You wore that garter belt and those stockings with the butterfly on the ankle because you wanted me to see it, think of you wearing it and drive me wild.'
Again, she couldn't deny his claim. A part of her had done just that.
'Well, it worked, Mariah,' he said, a hint of challenge in his tone. 'You looked damned sexy last night and Richard was looking to score. And I thought of you leaving with him, and him seeing you in the lingerie I sent,
'You're being obsessive,' she said on a low hiss of breath. 'You treated me like a possession last night, and I resent that!'
'I treated you exactly the way you wanted to be treated.' She opened her mouth to issue a retort, but he plowed on. 'Maybe your mind is saying we're through, but your body feels differently. Last night proved it.'
Her body, unfortunately, had been fine-tuned for Grey's touch, no one else's. Overwhelmed by everything, she squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten, feeling no more relaxed.
Grey let go of her arm and pushed his fingers through his tousled hair. 'I can't believe you're wasting your time with this guy.'
She didn't bother telling him she'd broken things off with Richard the night before. 'Just like I wasted time with you?'
His mouth stretched into a grim line, and she would have sworn she'd seen a flash of hurt in his eyes. 'Is that how you really feel about us?'
Swallowing the words and the rush of emotion rising to the surface, she started to walk away.
He blocked her path, his body a formidable obstruction. 'Dammit, answer me.'
She looked up at him. The sun silhouetted his body and glinted off his dark hair, giving him a dangerous edge that belied the incredible tenderness and confusion etched on his features. This was the Grey only she saw. Sensitive, gentle and infinitely caring. This was the Grey she wanted to spend her life with…except he didn't believe in happily-ever-afters.
'I love you, Grey,' she whispered, giving in to the urge to touch his cheek. The dark and rough stubble lining his jaw pricked her fingers, but she welcomed the bristly texture. 'How can I love someone so much and think of our time together as a waste? I regret how things ended-'
He caught her wrist and pulled her close enough to press her hand to his chest. 'No one says it has to end,' he said gruffly.
'I do.' Her smile was shaky at best. The heartbeat beneath her palm kicked into a higher drive. 'You can't give me what I need. You're not even willing to try.'
His jaw hardened, along with his eyes. 'What do you want me to do?'
The impossible, she thought. 'I want you to love me.'
'How can I give you something that doesn't exist for me?' He let go of her hand and rubbed the muscles at the back of his neck. 'Hell, Mariah, I don't even know what love is.'
That thought saddened her. How could she make him understand something he'd obviously had no experience with? An emotion she'd been surrounded by her entire life and had taken for granted?
She explained it in the most simplistic terms she could. 'Love is caring, and sharing, and wanting to be with the other person so much it hurts when you're apart.'
'I'm hurting, Mariah, more than I've hurt in my entire life.' The truth of that statement reflected in his eyes. 'And I care.'
They were missing one important element. 'But you don't share. You don't share what's deep inside you.'
He cringed, silently admitting the truth. 'Would it make a difference if I did?'
She had to think carefully about her answer, because she didn't want to lie to him or give him false hopes about them. 'I honestly don't know if it would make a difference now, but maybe then I'd understand why you say you don't believe in love, and why the word
He offered no explanation, just stared at her, waging some kind of internal battle she didn't understand. He wanted to share, she could see the anguish in his eyes, but he'd closed himself off for so long he didn't know how to express his feelings. And maybe he didn't want to dredge up all the ugliness seemingly attached to those emotions.
She couldn't force any of it out of him, and she couldn't continue on in a one-sided relationship. This time when she walked away, he didn't stop her.
'Are you about ready to wrap it up, John?' Mariah stood in the arched entryway leading into Grey's formal dining room. She watched as the hired photographer shot pictures of the room, richly furnished in mahogany, burgundy and green accents and plush cream-colored carpeting that ran throughout the entire house.
'Another half an hour ought to do it,' he said, loading a fresh roll of film into his camera. 'I still need to finish up in here, and I want a couple of shots of the sunken living room.'
'Okay.' She backed out of the room to give John the privacy he required while working. She trusted his judgment and choice of shots; he'd always given Casual Elegance his best.
Pausing in the marbled foyer, Mariah glanced at the gold watch on her wrist and noted the time. She wanted to be out of Grey's house by five and hopefully avoid him in the process. It was three-thirty, and by the time John finished the shoot and packed up his paraphernalia, it would probably be about four-thirty. Grey didn't usually leave work any earlier than six, and when she'd picked up the house key from Jeanie that morning, his secretary had told her he'd be in a meeting for most of the afternoon.
She hadn't seen Grey in over a week, since their 'jog' together. She'd spoken to him on the phone to set up a day and time to take pictures of his house, and had managed to keep her call short and strictly business, despite his
