The Cowboy

Connor but everyone knew the truth.
    "This is extremely humiliating," Margaret said.
    "If it makes you feel any better, take it from me you don't know what I was going through yesterday morning at the airport waiting to see if you were on that flight. I was afraid to even call your apartment in Seattle in case you answered the phone. How's that for proof that you have an equal ability to make me feel like an idiot?"
    The intensity of his words shook her. She bit her lip and then reached out hesitantly to touch his hand. When he glanced down she withdrew her fingers immediately. "Rafe, it won't work. We might have managed a long-distance affair. For a while. But we'll never manage a marriage. Your mother was right all along."
    "Stop saying that, damn it. She was wrong and she admits it. Why do you keep quoting something she said a year ago as if it were carved in stone?"
    "Because she was right a year ago. You're a driven man when it comes to business or anything else you decide you want. This morning she told me more about why you're driven but that doesn't change anything. It just helps explain why you are the way you are."
    Rafe swore in disgust. "She gave you some tripe about me being somewhat, uh, aggressive in business because I had to work so hard to rescue Cassidy and Company, didn't she? Julie says that's her current theory on my behavior."
    "Well, yes. And you're not
somewhat
aggressive, Rafe, you're a real predator. What's more, you get downright hostile when someone steals your prey the way you think I helped Moorcroft do last year."
    "Look, maybe I'd better make one thing clear here. My mother likes to think I'm the way I am— I mean, was—because of what happened after Dad was killed. But the truth is, I was like that long before I took over Cassidy and Company. Dad knew it. Hell, I was born that way, according to my father. Same as he was."
    Margaret nodded sadly. "You didn't change so that you could salvage the company, you managed to salvage the company because you were already strong enough and aggressive enough to do it."
    "But things are different now. I've changed. I keep telling you that. Give me a chance, Maggie."
    "Last night I thought I could."
    "You call having an affair with me giving me a chance?" he demanded incredulously.
    She nodded. "It was a way to try again. A way that left us both free to change our minds without breaking any promises. It would have given us time to observe each other and reassess the situation"
    "Hell." He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of pure frustration. "I don't need any more time, Maggie. I've been reassessing this damned situation for months."
    "Well, I do need time."
    "This isn't just a question of my work habits, is it?" he asked shrewdly. "The truth is you aren't going to forgive me for what happened between us last year, are you?"
    "You've never asked me to forgive you, Rafe." She smiled bleakly. "You're much too proud for that, aren't you? Oh, you very generously forgave me, but you don't think you need to be forgiven. It's all black and white to you. You were right and I was clearly in the wrong."
    "You made a mistake. Conflicting sets of loyalties, as I said. You were under a lot of pressure at the time and you got confused."
    "So confused I'd do it again if I had to. I didn't like being used, Rafe."
    His jaw tightened. "I did not use you."
    "That's not the way I saw it. You knew I was working for Jack Moorcroft when you started dating me, didn't you?"
    "Yeah, but damn it…"
    "I, on the other hand, did not have the advantage of knowing you were a business rival of his. I didn't even realize you two knew each other, let alone were fierce competitors. You kept that information from me, Rafe."
    "Only because I knew you'd have a problem dating me in the beginning if you knew the whole truth. I didn't want to lose you by telling you Moorcroft and I were after the same prize. You'd have felt guilty going out with me. And if you'll recall, I never tried to pump you for inside information."
    "You let me talk about my job," she accused. "You let me tell you about the projects I was working on. You showed so much interest in me. I was so terribly flattered by that interest. It makes me sick to think how flattered I was."
    "What was I supposed to do? Tell you not to talk about your work?"
    "Yes. That's exactly what you should have told me.
    "Be reasonable, Maggie. If I had tried to explain just why you shouldn't talk to me about your job, you'd have