didn’t remember him. Them.
So really it would almost be as if the whole thing never happened.
Except he’d remember. He’d know.
Putting up a shrug, Connor made a decent show of nonchalance as he pulled the ace from his sleeve. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, if you need to talk, I’m sure Jodie and Tina would be happy to lend an ear. You’ve got, what, four hours to kill before they get their hands on another distraction?”
Megan’s startled gaze snapped to his. “Do they know?”
Oh, yeah, wifey wasn’t going anywhere. Not for a while, anyway.
“They know you and I left the bar together. And you didn’t come back to the suite you were sharing last night. So I’d say they know enough to make me the lesser evil on option this morning.”
“The lesser evil?” Her brow quirked, leaving her mouth to hint at the smile and laughter that had gotten them into this mess. “Wow, you sure know how to sell yourself.”
Making him want more.
“Don’t have to,” he said, crossing the bedroom. “Not when I’m up against those two.”
Her stare narrowed on him as she followed. “Fine. You win. Let’s play getting-to-know-you.”
Connor did his best to rein in the victorious grin working over his mouth, and swung open the bedroom door.
The master suite was situated at the end of the second-level hall, overlooking the main living space where marble and glass gleamed in contrast to rich jewel-toned fabrics, heavily carved wood and silk-covered walls.
Megan’s steps faltered, the shock on her face this morning even better than it had been the night before.
“So, Megan. The first thing you should know about me...”
“Uh-huh, yes?”
“I don’t want a divorce.”
* * *
“Just give it a try?” Megan asked, sputtering at the insanity of Connor’s suggestion, casually tossed out as he’d perused an elaborate breakfast spread in the dining room. “You’re crazy.”
Glancing up from the coffee he’d stirred a generous portion of cream into, he grinned. “Exactly what you said last night. Of course, there’d been a whole lot of breathless ‘yes, please’ tied up in ‘you’re crazy’ then.”
Her eyes rolled skyward. She could only imagine the circumstances. Didn’t want to imagine them. But couldn’t seem to help it. In fact, every time her gaze touched on those criminally captivating lips...she started imagining all over again. Imagining, but not remembering.
“Last night I was forty percent alcohol by volume. Last night doesn’t count.”
Another shrug. “It counts to me. And if you’ll sit down and have something to eat, I’ll tell you why it counts to you too.”
Handing her the coffee, he nodded at the tray of pastries, fresh fruit, cheeses and breads he’d brought to the table. “Trust me on this, you want the food in your stomach first.”
Connor selected a croissant, set it, a tiny ceramic crock of butter and another of jam on a china plate with a silver knife, and pushed it in front of her. “Eat.”
She looked at it warily, not really wanting to eat anything at all after the way her morning had begun.
She was nervous. Frustrated. And more than a smidgen concerned about Connor’s apparent commitment to this monumental mistake.
He didn’t want a divorce. She didn’t get it. It didn’t make sense.
“You don’t know me,” she began with a slow shake of her head. “Even if I’d talked your ear off from the minute we met until my little pilgrimage to the porcelain god...you couldn’t really know me. My beliefs, my hang-ups, my shortcomings.”
Connor heaved a sigh and met her eyes. “I know you wanted a conventional family, and I know, while you’re friends with the men you date, you’ve never actually fallen in love. Same as me, that fairy-tale connection people go after like junkies looking for their next fix isn’t a part of your makeup. I know you’re tired of making yourself vulnerable again and again, hoping each time things will end differently. And I know you’ve figured out what you really want is a child, and you don’t need a husband to get one.”
Okay, so maybe he knew her a little.
Megan sat back in her chair, watching this virtual stranger reach for her plate, rip a corner off her croissant, butter it and, as though he hadn’t just relayed her deepest secret and greatest failures, hold it out in offering.
“Eat, while I clear a few things up between us.”
Tentatively she took the bite, letting the flakes of rich, buttery pastry dissolve on her tongue.
“For the record, I’ve been interested in settling down for some time. But contrary to what the evidence might suggest, marriage isn’t something I take lightly or would jump into without serious consideration.”
When she opened her mouth to call him on that last bit, he lifted a staying hand and went on.
“Marriage is the foundation of a family, and I want mine to be rock solid. I want the security—for my children, and really us both as well—of knowing it won’t crumble under some needy, emotional pique or the whims of a fickle heart. So I’ve been waiting for a woman with a specific sense of priority.”
His brow pulled down as he stared at the table and then looked back to her with a knowing expression. “And before you start thinking I was just some man on the make last night, out trawling for a wife, I wasn’t. I wasn’t looking for anything but the good time we were having. And then, it just hit me. You were the one.”
“The one.” There was a whole lot of weight in that statement. More than she’d expected to be shouldering through this weekend trip to Vegas.
“Yes. Now, let me tell you how much I respect your plan to prioritize your child over the instinct to find a mate.”
She gulped.
Wow, if she’d told him that, she’d really told him everything.
“It takes time to build a relationship. If you have a child, it’s time you’ll be taking away from him or her. And what if it gets serious?” he asked, buttering another small piece of croissant. “You introduce little Megan to this guy, but then it doesn’t work out. Now you aren’t the only one who’s let down. It’s your daughter or son, as well. Plus, there’s the whole post-breakup emotional slump to contend with. No picnic for a single mom, or the little person more in tune with her feelings than anyone else on the planet. That this isn’t the kind of emotional cycling you want your child to go through says a tremendous amount about you. And, like I said, I respect it.”
He’d spoken casually, seemingly at ease, and yet there was an intensity about him as he relayed this bit of perspective on her plan that implied a level of empathy beyond what
