Bella cocked her head at him. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a romantic at heart?’
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘A blind man could see those two belong together. They just need a little nudge in the right direction. You want to make me one of those?’ He indicated the hot chocolate she had on the counter.
Bella made the drink and handed it to him. Her fingers touched his and a shockwave of heat ran up her arm. She quickly put her hand back down by her side. ‘While we’re on the subject of perfect couples, I’d like to firm up some plans for my wedding,’ she said.
His eyes collided with hers. ‘No.’
Her brows snapped together. ‘Will you at least listen to me?’
‘You’re making a big mistake, Bella,’ he said. ‘Can’t you see how foolish this is? Look at what’s been going on between us. How can you think you’ll be happy settling down with a man who you can go for weeks or months without making love to you?’
Bella glared at him. ‘Not every man is a slave to his desires,’ she said. ‘Some men have self-control.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s see how much self-control he has after a year,’ he said.
‘I’m not waiting a year,’ she said. ‘I told you. I want to get married in June.’
‘What is a year in terms of your whole life?’ he said. ‘Rushing into marriage can be disastrous for women, even in this enlightened day and age.’
‘I’ll sign a pre-nuptial agreement if that will ease your concern,’ she said. ‘I’m sure Julian won’t mind. In fact he’ll probably insist on it.’
‘It’s not just about the money,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe you’re in love with this guy. How can you be? Look at how you respond to me.’
Bella glared at him. ‘That’s your fault.’
‘How is it my fault?’
‘Because you’ve done nothing but try it on with me from the moment I arrived,’ she said. ‘You haven’t touched me in years, not since that night when I was sixteen. Why now? Why now when I’m about to marry someone else?’
His jaw clenched tight as he put his mug down on the counter. ‘You think I haven’t wanted to touch you over the years?’ he said. ‘God damn it, Bella, are you blind? Of course I wanted to touch you. You were too young back then and you were half-tanked with alcohol. By the time I felt you were old enough, your father got sick. And then he died, and when he made me your guardian, that complicated things.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘If I’d known what your father had planned, I would’ve tried to talk him out of it.’
Bella frowned at him. ‘I thought you cooked this up with him,’ she said. ‘Did you really know nothing about it?’
He sucked in a breath and released it audibly. ‘I knew he was worried about how you would manage your wealth,’ he said. ‘He felt you would be easy pickings for someone who was after your money. He knew you had a soft heart.’
‘I didn’t show much of that soft heart when he needed it, did I?’ she asked sadly.
He tipped up her chin and met her eyes. ‘It wasn’t all your fault, Bella,’ he said. ‘Your father could be very stubborn when he wanted to be. He pushed you away just as much as you pushed him away.’
‘Like you do?’
He dropped his hand from her face. ‘I’m nothing like your father.’
‘Yes you are,’ Bella said. ‘That’s why you got on so well. You were kindred spirits. He saw himself in you. I’ve never realised it until now. He had a rough start in life, too. His mother died when he was young; I think he was only about six or seven. He was sent to live with distant relatives because his father had to go away for work. He didn’t like talking about it. It was like a wound he didn’t want anyone else to see.’
‘You’ve really missed your calling, haven’t you?’ he said with a sneer of a smile. ‘Just think, if you hadn’t made a career out of doing lunch and shopping, you could’ve have been a psychologist.’
‘Go on,’ Bella said, glaring at him in irritation. ‘Mock me. Make fun of me. That’s what you’ve made a career out of, isn’t it?’
He came up close and grabbed her chin between his finger and thumb. ‘Let’s see how good your psychologist’s skills are, shall we?’ he said. ‘Why do you think you’re rushing off to marry a man you barely know?’
Bella stared him down. ‘I love him, that’s why.’
‘You’re panicking, that’s why,’ he said. ‘You’ve only got a year until a truckload of money lands in your lap. You’re not sure how you’re going to handle it, are you? You’re worried that it will be too much to deal with on your own so you’ve latched on to the first reliable, steady person you think will be able to help you.’
‘That’s not true,’ she said. ‘I want to settle down and have a family. I don’t want to be on my own any more. I want to belong to someone.’
He pulled her up against him. ‘You’re frightened of the passion that’s burning inside you,’ he said. ‘You’re worried you’re going to end up like your mother, flitting from shallow affair to shallow affair.’
Bella strained against his iron-strong hold. ‘I’m nothing like my mother,’ she protested. ‘I’m not going to marry for lust. Lust doesn’t come into it at all.’
‘No, well, it can’t, can it?’ he said. ‘Not when your lust is directed elsewhere.’
Bella felt the hot probe of his erection. She felt the need rising up in her like a giant, swamping wave. It overpowered her defences. How could she resist him when her body was programmed to respond to him and only him? ‘I don’t want to want you,’ she said.
He fisted a hand in her hair, his mouth so close she could feel his breath on her lips. ‘Do you think I want to want you?’ he asked. ‘I’ve fought it for as long as I can remember.’
It thrilled Bella to hear his gruff confession. For so long she had thought he felt nothing for her. His indifference had annoyed her so intensely, but all that time he had been fighting his attraction.
But what was the point in telling her now?
Why was he telling her now?
‘Don’t you think you’ve left it a bit late to tell me?’ she said. ‘I’m about to announce my engagement.’
He brushed his mouth against hers, once, twice. ‘Is it too late?’ he asked.
Bella wasn’t sure what he was asking. She licked her dry lips and looked at his mouth, that sensual, wicked mouth that could make her feel things she had no right to be feeling. She wanted to feel that mouth on hers again. She wanted to feel that mouth on her body, on her breasts, on her inner thighs, on the very heart of her desire. ‘You don’t love me,’ she said, running a fingertip over his bottom lip, her soft skin catching on his evening stubble.
‘You don’t love me either,’ he said. ‘If you did, you wouldn’t be promising to marry someone else, now, would you?’
She sent her fingertip over the contour of his upper lip this time. ‘Would you want me to love you?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s not what I want at all.’
She stilled the movement of her finger and looked up into his eyes, her heart beating double time at the smouldering look in his blue-green gaze. ‘Then what do you want?’ she asked.
He cupped her bottom with his hands, bringing her in close to the heated trajectory of his erection. ‘Do you really need to ask that?’ he said.