She closed the door, but stayed holding the handle as if she hadn’t made up her mind about something. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your colleagues?”
“I’m celebrating with you. I ordered pizza.” He’d intentionally kept it casual. No one could be threatened by a large pepperoni pizza.
“Pizza?”
“When we’re in the mood for fine dining I’ll take you to a restaurant that will make you wonder if you’ve ever truly tasted food before, but tonight we’re eating pizza.” He removed his jacket and slung it over the nearest chair, figuring that the more he made himself at home, the less easy it would be for her to throw him out.
Her apartment was small, but she’d used the space well. A book lay open on the window seat, and the desk in the corner of the room was stacked with papers and notes. The New York sunset sent shafts of golden light shimmering across the hardwood floors. There was a door that he assumed led to her bedroom, and another that presumably was a bathroom. A pair of shoes lay discarded in the corner of the room as if she’d kicked them off while thinking about something else.
She’d stamped her identity on every corner of the place. Everything about her life shrieked that she didn’t need anything, or anyone.
He intended to show her there were still some things she needed.
“I like your apartment.” The place smelled familiar, and it was only after he’d breathed in the citrus, floral scent that made his head spin that he realized the reason the scent was familiar was because it was hers.
It took him right back to that kiss in the park, when he’d been engulfed by it. By her.
“You own a penthouse on Fifth Avenue.”
“So? I like what you’ve done with the place. You’ve made the most of the light.” He popped the cork on the champagne and poured it into the glasses she produced, wondering what it was going to take to get her to relax with him. All he saw in her eyes was mistrust. He noticed the laptop open on the little desk and a pair of glasses next to it. “Bad day?”
“Unproductive.”
“Finding it hard to concentrate?”
“Something like that.”
Interesting, he thought, and decided to probe a little more. “Thinking about Valentine?”
She paused a beat too long. “Yes.”
He felt a flash of satisfaction. He was willing to bet she hadn’t only been thinking of Valentine. She’d been thinking about him. He’d got her off balance, which was exactly where he wanted her. She thought she knew him, and he intended to prove to her that she didn’t.
“What exactly were you doing? Tell me more about your work. Do you consult?”
“Among other things.” She hedged and he wondered if her reluctance to talk about her job stemmed from more than a dedication to client confidentiality.
In his job he’d developed a sense for when people were hiding things, and he was sure Molly was hiding a lot.
“Molly.” He kept his voice gentle. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind, and then we can do away with the simmering atmosphere where I’m trying to guess what you’re thinking? Not only am I a guy, which means I’m not good at mind reading, but I’ve had a long day.”
“I didn’t think you’d come tonight. Maybe you weren’t listening to me.”
“I was listening. I heard every word you said, including the part where you told me I absolutely don’t want to get involved with you.” He put the champagne down on the table. “I’ve got it. Loud and clear.”
“And yet still you’re here. With champagne. And pizza.”
“That’s right. I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to convince you this is the right thing to do, and I thought we might need sustenance as I lay siege to you.”
“Sun Tzu didn’t believe in sieges.”
He was impressed. “You looked him up.”
“I was trying to understand you. And I don’t. I can only assume that you’re here because you don’t believe me. You think I’m exaggerating.”
“I don’t think you’re exaggerating. And I’m here because I do believe you. I like you, Molly. You’re sexy as hell and you’re not going to fall in love. For me, that’s not a problem. In fact it’s a prerequisite for a relationship in my book.”
“I once hurt a man so badly he told me I’d ruined his life and he’d never recover.” The anguish in her eyes tore at him.