His sensual mouth twisted. “I see what you’re doing, changing the subject before I can get the name of the bastard I’d like to kill.”
“William—”
“I knew you were strong, Bronte,” he said with a shake of his head. “But you’ve shamed me with all you’ve gone through on your own. How good you are, how loving and graceful and good, in spite of it.”
When she just parted her lips, unable to respond, he nodded. “Yes, it’s Riley that’s with Aaron. And I don’t care for his name, but a more patient man you’ll never meet.”
“But you like the father the best,” she said, relieved he was letting it go. “You talk about him a lot.”
He turned his hand over to catch hers, twining their fingers together and staring down at them. “I wasn’t sure you were paying attention. It was like pulling teeth just getting you to say hello.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I wasn’t supposed to, remember? Strict orders from the council of Finn to wait until Tanaka’s connections came through. They sure are taking their sweet time about it, by the way. I’m starting to doubt they even exist. People who say they know people are usually full of shit, in my experience.
He scowled at that. “Trust me. He knows people.”
“If you say so.”
“Good, obedient, Bronte. Is that who you are? The one who handles things and has it all under control?”
He tightened his grip when she tried to tug her hand away. “I remember sexy, fearless Bronte who dared me to marry her. The one who made me fly her to Niagara because she’d never been to the falls. The one who wanted to experience a lot of things she’d never done before.”
She closed her eyes. Along with everything else she’d done that night, she’d managed to block it out, willfully ignoring the fact that their last minute elopement was her idea.
She’d blamed his pheromones, the margaritas and his desire to stay stateside so he could be with his family since she’d woken up beside him. She’d acted like the injured party in front of his family. “I punched you…”
William started gathering the now-empty food containers, looking uncomfortable. “Don’t saint me, darlin’. Go back to giving me hell and we’ll both feel more comfortable. I proposed to you first if you’ll recall. And I knew you’d been drinking. Knew as soon as your friend left I should have seen you safely home and left it at that. I saw an opening and took it without considering all the possible consequences.” His jaw clenched. “And I’ve done a damn sight worse than that in my life. More than you’d be comfortable knowing.”
Bronte swallowed her response and yanked the covers more firmly around her. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? He’d given her the perfect opening to deliver her message and read him the riot act for making her feel like an extra in some mafia movie.
She looked into his eyes and hesitated. He was worried about what she thought of him? If he was really the guy he’d been describing, the man other people had no problem implying he was, how did she explain his protective reaction to something that happened to her two decades ago? The thoughtful presents and insightful texts? The fact that he’d had the opportunity to take her just now and he’d focused on her pleasure instead.
How do you explain the way he makes you feel?
“Try me,” she said, shocking herself. “You might be surprised at what I can handle.”
“You’re always surprising me.” William ran a hand over his forehead, rubbing his temple. “Can we put a stopper in it for a while? I’d like to be the man who rocked your world for a few more hours, instead of another mistake.”
Something clicked into place inside her in that moment. A delayed realization that made her forget to breathe for a few seconds.
God, she was an idiot. A blind, stubborn, mule-headed—
She got to her feet, taking the bed covers with her. “We can do that. How about I repay the chef for the best sandwich in Baltimore by following the rest of those instructions you were given?”
His brow furrowed in question, eyes lingering on her lips. “What instructions?”
“Pat’s,” she reminded him, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “You were supposed to feed me and bring me to the pub tonight, right?”
At his nod she smiled. “Good. Why don’t you give me a few hours to recover, and you can pick me up later so I can meet your new friends?”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s happening right now? Are you trying to get rid of me? If I leave, will I come back to find an empty room?”
She put her hand on his bare chest, inwardly moaning at the muscles that flexed in reaction. “You’re a fighter. You’ll understand if I need to go back to my corner and catch my breath until the bell rings again.”