“What provoked this decision?”

She risked a quick glance at his face. “You did.” Even while she was speaking to his ex-wife, she’d been harboring a glimmer of hope and defiance. It wasn’t until she was sitting at David’s kitchen table, wanting to touch him so badly her arms ached, that she realized how stupid she was to nurture any feelings for him.

“I did?” he repeated.

“Of course.” She stopped trying to hide her emotions and gazed up at him. “I’m in love with you, David. I want to make love with you—but you have nothing to give me.”

His expression grew tormented. “You think I’m not dying to carry you into my bedroom right now?”

“You can’t. At least not without feeling terrible about it. And what kind of relationship would that allow us?”

He didn’t answer, didn’t move, but his muscles bunched as if he was fighting the impulse to do just that.

“So…” She took a deep breath. “It’s time to put an end to the waiting. I’m ready to have a man in my life, which means I’m going to have to look elsewhere. I’ve closed myself off from the possibility for too long already.” She thought of the fund-raiser and how much she’d been anticipating it. Now it seemed silly to go with David. What would one night change? Nothing. He’d still have Lynnette and Jeremy and all his old reservations. Sheridan’s neighbor had irritated her for crying in his beer over his ex-wife and refusing to let go, yet she was doing the same thing with a man who’d never promised her anything, never mind a commitment. Work was her drug of choice instead of alcohol, but that was the only difference. “As a matter of fact, I don’t need you to take me to the Hyatt Saturday night.”

Sinking into his seat, he looked at her warily. “Why not?”

“Someone else will be going in your place.”

His jaw tightened. “Oh, yeah? Who’s that?”

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Skye scrambled to think of someone—and resorted to the only guy she knew who’d be available and willing on such short notice: Sheridan’s neighbor. “His name is Charlie Fox. He’s a nice guy.” She had no romantic interest in Charlie whatsoever, but he was suddenly preferable to David. Being with David would make her crave a night of hot, steamy sex and a million tomorrows; being with Charlie would make her glad she was going home alone.

“Charlie,” he echoed as if it was the stupidest name on earth.

She nodded. “He’s a nice guy.”

“You said that already.”

They stared at each other in a silent standoff. Then his eyes moved over her with an intensity that left gooseflesh in its wake. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. But Skye refused to take that into consideration, refused to allow it to change her mind. That was what had kept her hanging on for so long already. She needed to cut away everything Burke had brought into her life that made it difficult to go on—which included her infatuation with the detective who’d investigated her case.

“Lynnette must’ve made quite an impression.”

Skye frowned. “You know she called me?”

One muscular shoulder lifted in a shrug, but the motion didn’t strike her as careless. “Jeremy mentioned that she was on the phone with someone named after the sky.” He gave her a grin that contradicted the hollowness in his eyes. “Had to be you.”

“Is that why you came to the office?”

“Partly.” He rubbed his lip. “What’d she say?”

“What I knew. That you both want to make your relationship work.”

“And what’d you tell her?”

“That I don’t want to stand in the way.” She swallowed around the lump rising in her throat. “And that’s true.”

His face looked set in stone, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Putting herself out of reach made it easier on him and would ultimately make it easier on her, too.

“She had sex with someone else this week,” he said.

There was no strong emotion in his bald statement, so Skye wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t even sure why he’d decided to share such private information. “I’m sorry if it bothered you.”

“It didn’t.”

His tone suggested that surprised him. But, considering his commitment to Lynnette, his indifference wasn’t exactly a good thing. “Then I’m sorry about that, too.”

She could barely hear him when he answered, “You and me both.”

Silence settled over them again, but it was a deafening silence, one filled with everything they weren’t saying. After a few minutes, he opened his mouth as if he intended to put words to some of the emotions that hung there in the room. But then he closed it and kept turning his glass around and around on the table.

“We’d better get to bed,” Skye said at last.

Briefly pressing his fingers to his eyes, David breathed a deep sigh. “Right. You can have the big bed. I’ll take Jeremy’s room.”

12

David stood by the bed, watching Skye move restlessly in her sleep. Maybe she was only dreaming, but she wasn’t at peace, and that bothered him. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, make sure she knew he’d do whatever he could to protect her, no matter the cost.

But he understood where such comfort would lead. He also realized Lynnette wouldn’t easily forgive him. She’d know that any encounter between him and Skye would not be the mechanical, empty experience she’d shared with another man this past week.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from wanting to make love to Skye.

Transfixed, he stared at the tangled blond hair strewn across his pillow. He longed to run his fingers through that silky mass, press his lips to the hollow of her throat where he could feel her steady heartbeat. She was in his bed, his apartment, and she’d already admitted she wanted to be with him.

He imagined gently waking her, then slipping into the warmth of the bed and stripping the clothes from her body. The mere thought made his pulse race. But it was more than desire that had brought him to her bedside. She’d been through so much. He wanted to love her as she deserved to be loved.

If only they could have this night. But morning would come, and with it his responsibilities to Jeremy and Lynnette. He couldn’t have Skye and his family, couldn’t do justice to both. He should’ve sent her to Jasmine’s or Sheridan’s tonight instead of just calling to tell them she was okay.




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