Somehow he fell asleep; but then he woke up in the middle of the night with her arms wrapped round him and his wrapped round her.
Her breathing wasn’t deep or even enough for her to be asleep. Which meant she was awake. Aware of what she was doing.
What was she thinking?
‘Mariana,’ he whispered, unable to help himself.
‘Sorry. I should...’ She wriggled out of his arms. ‘My fault.’
‘It’s just as much mine,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry if you thought I was making a move on you.’
‘I’m sorry if you thought I was making a move on you,’ she said.
‘I wish you were.’
And then he realised he’d spoken aloud. Of all the stupid, insane things to have said...
‘Forget I said that,’ he said swiftly.
* * *
Angelo had just said he wished she was making a move on him. How could she ignore that? Her heart was racing hard enough as if she’d just run a five-k at a personal best. ‘I can’t.’
‘I apologise.’
Something in his tone alerted her. What was it that her sister had said? A fling. Right now, that seemed like the best idea in the world. All she had to do was be brave. Take the risk. Ask for what she wanted.
‘Maybe I don’t want you to apologise.’
‘Are you saying...?’
It was so much easier to say this in the cocoon of the dark. Where she didn’t have to meet his eyes and feel awkward or embarrassed, where she could let the tone of his voice guide her. She took a deep breath. ‘Neither of us is looking for a relationship. You’re divorced and I’m still licking my wounds from Eric. And we’re working together to solve a mystery for your grandfather and prove that painting is what he thinks it is.’
‘It would be utterly insane for us to get involved with each other,’ he agreed. Which sounded more like he was saying he thought it was a perfect idea.
‘Utterly,’ she said, hoping he was reading her tone, too. Just in case he wasn’t, she stroked his face.
He turned his head so his mouth skimmed against her palm. ‘Mariana, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first met you.’
He’d said it first. Which made everything easier. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you, too,’ she admitted.
‘So maybe,’ he said, ‘maybe we should get this out of our systems. To let us concentrate on work tomorrow.’
‘A fling.’
‘A fling,’ he agreed. ‘Just tonight.’
‘Because then we’ll know how ridiculous this is and we don’t have a future,’ she said.
‘Absolutely.’ He brushed his mouth against hers.
‘An excellent plan.’ She kissed him back.
‘Just tonight and then we’ll forget all about it,’ he said.
‘Agreed.’
Making love should’ve been awkward and difficult and embarrassing; but it felt so right. Afterwards, he curled protectively round her, holding her close. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt more at peace than she had in years.
Tomorrow they’d be back to being professional.
But she was glad they’d had tonight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ON THE TUESDAY MORNING, Angelo woke before Mariana.
Last night had been a mistake. A huge mistake. They’d agreed that it would be just for that night, that it was just to get all the inappropriate stuff out of their systems, and this morning they would be back to being professional.
The problem was, it hadn’t worked. All the inappropriate feelings were still there. If anything, it was worse—because now he knew how it felt to hold her. How it felt to kiss her. How it felt to make love with her. And he didn’t want to stop.
But at the same time he knew it wouldn’t be fair to her to ask her to make it a real relationship. Not when she wanted things he knew he couldn’t give her. A family. A future.
How were they going to deal with this?
He hadn’t had any good ideas by the time she woke up.
‘Good morning,’ she said softly, and her smile made him feel warm all over—and guilty as hell at the same time. He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t pretend they could make a go of things and then let her down. He had to do the right thing. End it. Now.