Marriage by Mistake

not understanding.
    Kelly couldn't help giggling. " You know." She cocked her head toward the bed. "At this."
    "At this?" His eyebrows jumped, then came way down. "But—wasn't I inventive in Las Vegas?"
    "Unh unh." Kelly chuckled and rose onto her knees. "So I guess there are some advantages to you being, well, just plain you."
    He continued to frown, appearing to digest this.
    "That's good," Kelly assured him.
    "Hm." His gaze shifted to one side. "Well I'm glad something good has come of this."
    Kelly stopped. Hearing his tone, she did a slow blink. "Is something wrong?"
    "Is something wrong." He repeated it like a statement, then pushed himself to a sitting position. "What's wrong is that you were absolutely correct. I don't have any self-control when it comes to you."
    Kelly blinked rapidly now, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. Well yes, he didn't have self-control, but hadn't that been the point? She'd thought he'd let go—happily. For heaven's sake, hadn't they been going at it like rabbits all afternoon?
    With an oath, Dean shoved the covers aside and stood up. He had a beautiful back, broad at the shoulders, tapering to the hips. He seemed utterly unaware of his own nakedness, though, as he began to pace the room.
    "We went from a kiss to pure insanity. And now this—" He threw out an arm, encompassing the room. "I walked out of my office, just walked out, in order to spend the afternoon... here ."
    Kelly remained scrunched on her knees, watching him. She'd thought there had been joy in their lovemaking. But Dean, bitterly pacing the room, did not look the least bit joyful. He looked, in fact—now that she really looked at him—utterly miserable.
    Kelly felt a terrible lowering sensation. It was as though a dark blanket were getting pulled over the brightness of her own joy. Why, none of this was what it had seemed. None of it was what he had wanted. He wasn't happy. He hadn't let go. Nor did he want her, really, at all.
    She'd completely mistaken everything.
    Dean muttered something unintelligible and paced away from her again.
    A huge knot lodged in her throat. "I'm sorry."
    He stopped. His head whipped around.
    "I'm sorry," Kelly repeated, then tried to swallow the knot. "I certainly didn't intend to make you unhappy."
    Dean stared at her.
    "If it's any consolation," Kelly chattered on, "I don't have much self-control when it comes to you, either. I mean, believe it or not, I didn't intend this to happen." She waved her own arm to encompass the room. "Either."
    Dean's eyes grew dark. "But you came to my office. You were dressed like—"
    "I know, I know." Kelly looked away and heaved a deep sigh. "But all I really wanted was to get your attention."
    There was a short silence, and then Dean barked a laugh. "Consider it gotten."
    "Yeah, well." Kelly sank to pull the bed sheet over her chest. Her heart was shriveling. He was upset he'd let go with her. He wasn't happy about this.
    She'd completely fooled herself, just blinded her eyes. Heck, she'd known he was scared. He'd actually left town in order to avoid her. That should have told her something. But no. She'd thought she could push through.
    Instead what she'd done was simply push.
    "Tell you what." Pulling the sheets with her, Kelly slipped off the bed. "It's not too late. Put on your clothes, go back to the office. You can catch up on whatever you left undone this afternoon."
    The expression on Dean's face changed rapidly. "Go back—?"
    "A few phone calls and I'll bet you can reschedule whatever appointments you missed." Wrapping the sheet around her, Kelly hobbled over to her skirt. Her shirt, she saw, was all the way by the door.
    "Kelly—" To her surprise, Dean's tone indicated resistance to her plan. But there was relief in there, too. He wanted to go back to the office, retrace his steps, she could tell.
    Kelly bit her lower lip and bent to retrieve her shirt. Oh, how had she fooled herself that he was happy, that he felt anything for her?
    "Kelly, no." Dean began to walk toward her, utterly naked, gloriously so, and way too preoccupied to care. His tone was firm. "This is my fault. It was my choice to walk out, my choice to come here. I'm not going to compound my sins by treating you like a—like a—"
    Kelly didn't wait to hear what word he might come up with. "I'll take a cab home. The party's kind of over, anyway, don't you think?" She ventured to glance over at him. Somehow, she smiled.
    He paused in the center of the