"What makes you think it'd be quick?"
She must be joking. I give her a look meant to convey the fact that we both know I would've ravished her like a mad man if I hadn't employed every iota of my willpower to force myself to stop. The expression on her face shifts from surprised annoyance to something that suggests she recognizes the truth too.
I pull her onto my lap with her legs straddling me and rest my hands on her hips. My granite-hardslatpushes against her crotch, but I can't do a bloody thing about that. A few locks of hair have fallen over her face, so I sweep them away gently. "Sweet, I need more time to prepare. You deserve better than this."
"Thought this whole day was preparation."
"For you, yes." I graze the backs of my fingers over her cheek. "I want it to be an experience. One to remember."
She tilts her head to the side, studying me. "Sounds almost romantic."
"You disapprove?" Not that it matters if she does. I don't want to romance her.
"No." She spreads her palms on her thighs while I trail my fingertips down her throat. "You're confusing the hell out of me. First, you dump me for a phone call. Then, you take me on a romantic picnic and cook me a sensual dinner. Your domineering act a minute ago was wicked sexy, but now you're back to being considerate and sweet."
"Sweet?" Did my lip curl when I said that? No, that's ridiculous. I don't care what she thinks of me, so I have no reason to be annoyed when she calls me sweet. I am not a puppy, though.
Erica gives my chest a playful slap. "What is it with men and the word sweet? It's a compliment, not an affront to your manliness. Trust me, you've got no issues there."
"I don't?" Of course I don't. Why am I asking?
"Absolutely not." She leans in to press her lips to mine. Our faces a breath apart, she whispers, "You are the hottest man on the face of the earth, Mr. MacTaggart."
Now that's more like it. A compliment I can handle.
I catch her bottom lip between my teeth, releasing it with deliberate slowness, her flesh retreating millimeter by millimeter while I pull her closer. "And you, sweet Erica, are the most enticing lass on earth."
She gazes up at me with wide eyes and a slack expression, but only for a few seconds.
What was that about? She almost seemed afraid at that moment. The reasons why are none of my concern, and I shouldn't care. Maybe it's to do with that scunner Presley, or maybe I've upset her with my behavior last night when I'd run away to take a call from Rory.
I glide my hands up to her waist, spanning her back with my hands. I can't explain why, but I suddenly feel the need to apologize, again. "I know I behaved badly last night. You've no idea how much I regret it."
She fingers the collar of my shirt. "Don't worry about it."
"No chance of that. How can I make it up to you?"
Erica rolls her gaze up to meet mine. She shrugs one shoulder. "It was kind of humiliating to be abandoned on the sofa with my pants hanging open."
I wince and nod crisply, unable to come up with an excuse for my inexcusable behavior. We look into each other's eyes for a moment, neither of us seeming to know what to do now.
Erica sets her hands on her knees and turns her gaze up to the ceiling.
Is she praying for divine guidance or counting all the ways she can tell me to bugger off?
She returns her attention to me and raises one finger. "I've got it. Tell me something about you. Something embarrassing."
What in the world? Her statement is bizarre and seems completely out of context.
She taps my nose. "You wanted to make it up to me. This is how you can." She slants forward a touch. "Something really embarrassing."
I flatten my lips. Aye, I behaved like an ersehole last night. But the punishment she has meted out seems odd. Still, I suppose I deserve it.
Sighing, I relax against the chair while keeping my hands on her hips. "My mother calls me Lachie. Has done all my life. I've told her a thousand times I hate it, but she won't listen. Even called me Lachie in front of girls I dated in school."
"That's mildly humiliating." She crosses her arms over her chest. "I saidreallyembarrassing."
Mhac na galla. She won't be satisfied until I've humiliated myself the way I humiliated her last night. I take a moment to consider what I should tell her, tapping my fingers on her back while I think. A memory surfaces in my mind, and I stifle a grimace. Oh yes, Erica will love this story.