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“No!” She inhaled deeply and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her fitted jeans. “I mean…no, it’s nothing like that.”
My patience was running low. I'd thought that after the night we'd shared Delilah would be more open with me. “Then what is it?”
She shifted nervously next to me and then stood abruptly.
“I need to shower,” she mumbled and hurried away.
By the time I caught her wrist and spun her to face me, she was already in the house.
“Stop lying to me! Tell me what the hell the problem is!” I demanded, raising my voice.
“Sebastien, you’re hurting me! Let me go!” She tried to yank her hand away from me, but I tightened my grip.
“Not until you tell me what the problem is!”
“The problem is you, okay? The problem is you!” she snapped.
Surprised by her answer, my hold loosened on her wrist, allowing her to free herself. As I watched her storm off it dawned on me.
She regretted what happened between us last night.
Shit!
Maybe she gave in last night because she had alcohol in her system. But she didn’t have alcohol in her system when Hawthorne interrupted our kiss or in the dressing stall two weeks ago. Delilah wanted me as much as I wanted her.
So what was the real problem?
Having already paid off her debt and publicly announced our engagement, I knew Deliah had no intention of walking away from our agreement. She feared Hawthorne way too much and wanted to protect Dean and her secret.
I’d let her be. For now.
But, by the end of the day, this little problem Delilah had would be sorted out.
For the rest of the day, every time Delilah saw me, she either went in the opposite direction or left the room. By the time five p.m. had rolled around, I'd had enough of her cat-and-mouse games and cornered her in the kitchen.
“Delilah, that problem you mentioned earlier, it’s time to talk about it.” I folded my arms across my chest and locked eyes with her.
She tried to step around me, but I blocked her.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She met my gaze squarely.
“You don’t have a choice. Spill it. You said I was the problem. How am I the problem?”
Delilah sighed deeply. “What happened last night can’t happen again.” She added quickly, “At least not until the wedding night.” She wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her eyes. “I’d prefer to sleep in my bed, alone, until then.”
My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched. Delilah wanted to sleep…alone.
After what we shared last night, I'd been hoping for a repeat, and soon.
I stepped forward, closing the small gap between us. With the palm of my hand, I lifted her chin gently, forcing her to look at me. Her breath quickened.
I leaned in, my lips almost touching hers, my voice dangerously calm. “Is that what you want?”
She swallowed hard. I swore her body shifted slightly towards me. “Yes,” she ground out.
“Ms. Malone,enjoy your space while it lasts.”
I turned and walked away. I’d play her little game for now, but once she became Mrs. Sebastien Quantum, all games would be over.