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Story: You'll Find Out

Brig ran his fingers impatiently through his dark hair. Hot spurts of jealousy clouded his thinking. “Tell me this, Becca, just how many men have youcared forin the last six years?”

Becca’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Is that what you want to know? Why don’t you come straight to the point and ask me how many men I’ve slept with?”

“One and the same,” he threw back.

“Not necessarily.”

“Okay, then, how many men have you slept with?” He watched the disbelief and anger contort her even features. Wide eyes accused him of being the bastard he was. The thought of another man kissing those lips or touching her golden hair made his stomach knot.

“That’s none of your business, Brig. You gave up all of those possessive rights when you threw me out of your life.”

“You walked away.”

Her lower lip began to tremble, but she held back her hot angry tears. “I had to, Brig. Because you thought so little of me that you honestly contended thatIdestroyed Sentimental Lady. Even with everything we had shared together, you never trusted me. In my opinion, without trust, there is no love.” Her voice cracked, but she continued. “Just who the hell do you think you are? You have no right to ask me about my love life.”

“I’m justsomeone who cares for you,”he mocked disgustedly.

Becca felt her entire body shake. “You really can be a bastard when you want to be.”

“Only when I’m pushed to the limit.”

“It’s reassuring to know that I bring out the best in you,” she tossed out heatedly. She could feel her anger coloring her cheeks. “I think this discussion is over. We don’t have much to say to each other, do we?” She pivoted on her heel and started toward the door. As quick as a springing cat, Brig was beside her. His grasp on her arm forced her to spin around and face the rage contorting his chiseled features. His lips were thin, his eyes ruthlessly dark.

“You’d like to run out on me again, wouldn’t you? After all, it is what you do best.”

“Let’s just say that I don’t like to waste my time arguing with you. There’s no point to it.”

“Counterproductive, is it? Not like sleeping with me?”

She slid her eyes disdainfully upward. “Let it go, Brig. We have nothing more to discuss.”

Angrily, he jerked on her arm and she lost her balance. She fell against him and her hair came forward in a cloud of honey-colored silk. “I’ve never met a woman who could infuriate me so,” Brig uttered through his clenched teeth. For the most part his anger was leveled at himself for his weakness.

Becca tossed her hair out of her resentful green eyes. “And you’ve met your share of them, haven’t you? What about Melanie DuBois? Didn’t she ever ‘push you to the limit’?” The minute the jealous implication passed her lips, Becca knew she’d made a grave error in judgment. The rage in Brig’s eyes took a new dimension, one of piteous disgust.

“You really know how to hit below the belt.” Brig released her as if holding Becca was suddenly repulsive. She rubbed her upper arms in an effort to erase the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He had walked away from her, putting precious space between their bodies. “I had no right to say anything about her.” Becca detested anything as petty as jealousy, and she realized that her remark about the dead woman was not only childishly petulant, but also deplorable and undignified. She had to make him understand. “Brig—”

He waved off her apology with the back of his hand. “Don’t worry about it.” His jaw hardened and his lips thinned as he pressed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

“I just didn’t mean to say anything that mean.” Her animosity faded. “I . . . I don’t want to argue with you and I don’t want our discussions to deteriorate into a verbal battlefield; where we just try and wound each other for the sake of some shallow victory.” She took a step toward him, wanting to touch him, but holding her hands at her sides.

His voice was coldy distant. “You didn’t wound me, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“What I’m afraid of is that I look like a hypocrite.”

He arched his eyebrows, silently encouraging her to continue.

“I didn’t want to discuss my . . . past relationships with men, and then in the next moment I brought up one of the women in your life.”

He shrugged. “Forget about it.”

“But I know that you and Melanie were close—”

“I was never close to that woman,” he cut in sharply.

Becca was taken aback. “But I thought—”