Marriage by Mistake

room. His expression was conflicted. On the one hand, he clearly did want to go back to the office, to prove he wasn't completely out of control. On the other hand, he seemed to think there were certain rules that applied to this kind of situation and they did not include walking out on a recent sex partner.
    Kelly felt warmth rush back into her chest. He truly was a good man.
    Just not one who was ready to love her.
    The knot leaped back into her throat. She'd done it again. Jumped the gun, made up stories about the man's feelings. Kelly clicked open the door to the bathroom. "It'll just take me a minute to get dressed."
    "Kelly—" Dean stepped toward her and Kelly halted. The look that was suddenly on his face—For half an instant she thought he was going to say something incredible, something magical, something that might allow her to believe she hadn't made such a terrible mistake, after all. Then whatever Kelly had seen in Dean's face disappeared.
    "I'll call you the cab," he said.
    "Right." Kelly pushed open the door of the bathroom. She managed a breezy smile as she stepped through. Once the door was closed and she was alone, however, the smile vanished. She turned to rest her forehead against the closed door.
    Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    Here she was in love, and Dean wasn't even happy he'd had sex with her.
    Quietly, Kelly knocked her head against the bathroom door. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    ~~~
    Alone in his downtown office that Monday evening, Dean didn't get much done. It wasn't that he was tired, though he'd certainly exerted himself during the afternoon spent at the Parker House. Nor did he have trouble finding the parties he needed to reach in order to reschedule his missed appointments—Myers the attorney excluded. No, those weren't his problems.
    His problem was Kelly.
    Oh, she wasn't there physically. He couldn't blame her sensual aura, the clothes she wore, or that special light in her eyes. But she was there in front of him all the same.
    I'm sorry , she'd said, her voice hoarse, her eyes shadowed. I didn't mean to make you miserable , she'd said.
    Dean sat behind his desk and stared unseeingly at a budget projection. He couldn't get her voice or those words out of his mind. And he couldn't help wondering: could she have been sincere?
    Was it possible she really hadn't wanted to make him miserable?
    At his office desk, Dean squeezed his fountain pen between his fingers. An hour ago he'd been in her thrall. Utterly bewitched. Sexually stupefied. He'd easily have spent the next day, the next week, in her arms. He'd have hated himself afterwards, but he'd have done it. He'd totally lost control.
    She'd had him just where she wanted him—that is, just where Dean had imagined she wanted him—and she'd let go. She'd called a halt to things, extricated him. She'd even sent him here to his office so he could take care of his responsibilities.
    Dean pushed the budget projection away. He stared heavily at the opposite wall. One could almost argue she'd looked out for him, though he wasn't ready to go that far. However...
    However, she most certainly hadn't taken advantage of him. She hadn't used his weakness to gain some selfish concession.
    Dean scowled and uncurled from his chair. This was not what he'd expected of her, not what he'd...counted on. She was supposed to be bad, selfish, manipulative. She was supposed to be like one of his father's awful brides. Somebody he didn't have to consider.
    Instead, she'd been...a mystery. Inexplicable.
    Dean paced over to the window. With one hand on the frame, he stared at the lights on the street below. His own behavior had not been mysterious, however. His own behavior had been cloddish, at best. Loutish, at worst. The woman had been giving him the most exhilarating sexual experience of his life, and he'd brought her to an apology! He'd let her take the blame for his own flaws, his own miscalculations. She'd left the Parker House clearly feeling awful, as though she'd done something wrong. He'd let her leave that way.
    Talk about bad, selfish, and manipulative.
    Cars and people traveled by on the street fifteen stories below. Dean moved his hand from the window frame to a spot beneath his tie.
    No, he was not getting much accomplished here at the office.

    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    It was not difficult for Felicia to see that her mother was unhappy. Over dinner on Monday evening in the formal dining room, her mother picked at her salad with small, sharp stabs of her