Genuine Lies

quiet breath and release it slowly. “And I wanted to be sure I could walk away when it was over, completely unscathed. The problem is I can’t. When you walked in this morning, all I could think was how much I’d wanted to see you, how much I’d missed you, how unhappy I’d been because we were angry with each other.”
    She stopped, straightened her shoulders. He was grinningat her, rocking back and forth on his heels. In a minute she was sure he’d be whistling. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take that smug look off your face. This isn’t—” “I love you, Julia.”
    Numb, she lowered herself to the arm of a chair. If he’d jammed a fist into her solar plexus, he couldn’t have taken her breath away more efficiently. “You—you were supposed to let me finish, and then say something about appreciating each moment for what it was.”
    “Sorry. Do you really think I jumped on the Concorde with hardly more than a change of underwear just so I could spend the afternoon in bed?”
    She said the first thing that came to mind. “Yes.”
    His laugh was quick and deep. “You’re good, Jules, but not that damn good.”
    Not quite sure how to take that, she angled her chin. “A few minutes ago you said—actually, it was more of a groan— that I was magnificent. Yes,” she said, and folded her arms. “That was the word.
Magnificent.”
    “Did I?” Christ knew, she was. “Well, that’s entirely possible. But even magnificent sex wouldn’t have pulled me away from a very difficult stage of my book. At least not for more than an hour or so.”
    And that, she supposed, put her in her place. “Then why the hell did you come?”
    “When you’re mad, your eyes go the color of soot. Not a very flattering description, but accurate. I came here,” he continued before she could think of a proper response, “because I was worried about you, because I was furious you went off without me, because I want to be with you if there’s any kind of trouble. And because I love you so much I can barely breathe when you’re not with me.”
    “Oh.” Now that, she thought, very truly did put her in her place. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She stood up again to pace. “I had it all worked out, logically, sensibly. You weren’t supposed to make me feel like this.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like I can’t live without you. Dammit, Paul, I don’t know what to do.”
    “How about this?” He snatched her in mid-stride, nearly lifting her off her feet. The kiss did the rest. After a short, final struggle, she fell into it.
    “I do love you.” She held on tight to that, and to him. “I don’t know how to deal with it, but I love you.”
    “You’re finished dealing with things alone.” He pulled her away enough so that she could see he meant everything he said. “Do you understand, Julia?”
    “I don’t understand anything. Maybe, for right now, I don’t need to.”
    Content with that, he lowered his mouth to hers. The knock on the door had them both sighing. “I can send the waiter away.”
    She laughed, shaking her head. “No. Suddenly I’m starving.”
    “At least the champagne I ordered won’t go to waste.” He kissed her once, then again, lingeringly, as the knock sounded a second time.
    When Paul admitted the waiter, she saw that he’d also ordered flowers, a dozen delicate pink roses just budding. She slipped one from the vase, holding it to her cheek as their lunch was set up.
    “Two messages for you, Miss Summers,” the waiter told her, offering the envelopes as Paul signed the check. “Thank you.”
    “Enjoy your lunch,” he said, adding a cheery smile at his tip.
    “It feels decadent,” Julia said when they were alone. “Champagne, romance, flowers, in the middle of the day in a hotel.” She laughed as the cork popped. “I like it.”
    “Then we’ll have to make it a habit.” He lifted a brow as he poured. “Tonight’s tickets?”
    “Yes. Front row, center. I wonder how he managed it.”
    “My father can manage almost anything he wants to.”
    “I liked him,” Julia continued as she ripped open thesecond envelope. “It isn’t often you find the man so much like the image. Charming, urbane, sexy—” “Please.”
    Her laugh was low and rich and delighted. “You’re too much like him to appreciate it. I really hope we …”
    She trailed off, going dead white. The envelope fluttered to the floor as she studied the sheet of paper in her hand.
    TWO WRONGS