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for her, all the bitterness was still there.
He shrugged. Bending, he pushed back her tousled hair. "I want you. You want me. Whatever else
there is, we'll have that." He sighed gently. "Besides, if the attraction we feel is still strong enough
four years after the fact to send us making love on the carpet, it isn't likely to weaken, is it?"
"For heaven's sake, Steve!" she exclaimed, outraged.
"Meg, you're repressed." He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"
"You might stop embarrassing me," she muttered.
His eyebrow jerked as he stared at her. "My beautiful Mary Margaret," he said softly. "When I wake up
in the morning, I'll be sure that I was only dreaming again."
"Did you dream of me?" she asked involuntarily.
"Oh, yes. For most of my life, I think." He searched her soft eyes. "'There be none of Beauty's
daughters with a magic like thee...'" he quoted tenderly, and watched the heat rise in her cheeks. "Do
you like Lord Byron, Meg?"
"You never read poetry to me," she said with a sad little smile.
"I wanted to. But you were very young," he recalled, his face going hard. "And I was afraid to trust my
heart too far." He laughed suddenly as all the bitterness came sweeping back. "Good thing I didn't. You
walked out on me."
"You made me," she shot right back. "You know you did." The anger eased as she saw the pained look
on his face. "You haven't had a lot of love, Steven," she said. "I don't think you trusted anyone enough
to let them close to you not Daphne, and certainly not me.You like my body, but you don't want my
heart."
He was shocked. He stared at her, searching for words. He couldn't even manage an answer.
"I'd love you, if you'd let me," she said gently, her blue eves smiling at him.
His jaw clenched. "You already did, on the floor," he said coldly. All sorts of impossible things were
forming in his mind. He felt vulnerable and he didn't like it. He glared at her. "You didn't even try to
stop me. Since you can't dance anymore, what a hell of a meal ticket I'll make!"
She stared at him and suddenly saw right through the angry words. She knew with a flash of intuition
that he was still fighting her. He cared. Perhaps he didn't know it. Perhaps he'd even convinced himself
that he really loved Daphne. But he didn't. Even though she was innocent, Meg knew that men didn't
lose control as Steve had tonight unless there were some powerful emotions underlying the desire. He
was fighting her. It had been that all along, his need to keep emotional entanglements at bay. He was
afraid to risk his heart on her. Why hadn't she seen that years ago?
"No comeback?" he taunted furiously.
She smiled again, feeling faintly mischievous. "Are you going to bring my ring back tonight?"
He hesitated. "Meg..."
"I know. It's way after midnight and David will be home soon, I suppose,"she added."But you could
come to supper tomorrow night. And bring my ring back " she emphasized. "I hope you haven't lost
it."
He glared at her. "No, I haven't lost it. I can't bring it tomorrow night. I have a dinner meeting with
Ahmed. Daphne's coming along," he reminded her.
She felt a little uncertain of her ground, but something kept her going, prodded her on.
She moved toward him, watching his expressions change, watching his eyes glitter. She caught him by
the lapels and went on tiptoe, softly brushing her body against his as she reached up and drew her
mouth tantalizingly over his parted lips. She could feel his heartbeat slamming at his ribs, hear his
breathing. He was acting. It was a sham. She bit his lower lip, gently, and let go of him, moving away.
"What was that all about?" he asked gruffly.
"Didn't you like it?" she asked softly.
His jaw clenched. "I have to go."
"To dinner, perhaps. But not to Daphne's bed. Not now."
"What makes you so sure that I won't?" he demanded with a mocking smile.
She searched his eyes. "Because it would be sacrilege to do with anyone else what we just did with
each other."
He would have denied it. He wanted to. But he couldn't force the words out. He turned and went to the
door, pausing just to make sure the lock was on before he glanced back.
"Buy a wedding gown," he said curtly. "And if you try to run away from me this time, I'll follow you
straight to hell if I have to!"
He closed the door behind him, and Meg stared at it with a jumble of emotions, the foremost of which
was utter joy.
Steve was feeling less than pleased. He had Meg, but it was a hollow victory. Despite the exquisite
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