had ever called me an idiot. Stubborn, yes. Cold, of course. Difficult, “that bitch,” whore, holier-than-thou princess. But never an idiot. Never stupid.
Forgetting my favored offense, I let my temper win. I shoved him in the chest. “What did you call me?”
“There you are.” He had a gleam in his eye. That gleam.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I snapped. He didn’t have the right to look at me like that. Not anymore.
“I forgot. It was a stupid mistake. I don’t make stupid mistakes. Ever. But you—”
“Of course you’re going to blame me,” I scoffed.
“Emily, how in the hell am I supposed to keep anything in my head when all I can see is you under me, coming on my cock, calling my name?”
He wasn’t being flippant. Derek Price was being deadly serious.
“Speaking of mistakes,” I said blithely.
He looked like he was going to murder me. Those glacial eyes burned with an icy heat. “Don’t you dare use what we shared this weekend against me,” he warned.
I glared back at him.
“Emily, I wanted to tell you in the right way to minimize this. And then I forgot.”
“Oh, you forgot. How does it just fall out of your head that you signed me up for something you knew would piss me off? Three days, Derek. A stranger following my every move for three days!”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “This weekend was… eventful.”
“You don’t forget things.”
“There you were Friday night running around your house half-naked and needing me. And I forgot. It fell out of my head in a fog of lust and excitement and the egotistical boost of you letting me in. I’m only human, Emily. And the ‘you’ behind those monumental fucking walls is a goddamn miracle. You destroyed me.”
I swallowed hard. He was so fucking good at the spin that even I couldn’t tell if it was a lie, a line.
He released me and ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tic I hadn’t seen before. “Tell me things didn’t change this weekend. Tell me you didn’t feel it,” he challenged.
I crossed my arms over my chest. Things had changed. I had felt it. “Maybe.” I shrugged. He’d taken that tenuous trust I’d given him and damaged it.
“I’m not letting you walk away, Emily,” he said. He reached for me again, trying to pull me closer. I pushed back harder.
“You don’t get a say in the matter,” I said. My arms were shaking with the effort.
“Check your email,” he said. “Please.”
The please was an afterthought tacked on to a command he knew I wouldn’t follow.
“I don’t think you have the right to tell me what to do anymore.”
“Goddamn it, Emily. Check your email.” The command stood alone this time.
With an extravagant eye roll, I fished my phone out of my bag and opened my email account.
To: Emily Stanton
From: Derek Price
Subject: I’m an unconscionable moron
Emily,
I just tried to call but couldn’t get through. I’ve forgotten to tell you something important that you’ll hate. I’m truly sorry, and you can categorically destroy me later. But first let me tell you that a journalist will be in your office any second now. I have a conference call, but I’ll be there immediately after…
It had been sent twenty minutes before I stormed into his office. I took my time looking up from the screen.
“Do not use this honest mistake as an excuse to stop trusting me,” he said softly. His blue eyes earnest. “I couldn’t take it. And I’m guaranteed to do something ridiculous.”
Damn it.
The anger drained out of me as if someone had pulled a plug. No one had ever fought for me like this before. They cracked and splintered like ice chips at my disapproval. Or, in the case of my family, they just didn’t care.
“More ridiculous than breaking into my house and taking a bath?” I asked quietly.
Relief and hope warred fiercely on his face, and I felt that shift again. This time I didn’t fight him when he pulled me into his arms.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he breathed against my hair.
“You pissed me off.”
“Darling, it’s not going to be the last time. So we’re going to need to work on some ground rules for fighting.”
“Ground rules? For what?”
“For the future,” he said, stroking his quick, talented hands down my back to cup my ass.
“Derek Price is not discussing the future,” I argued.
“Ah, sweet, stubborn Emily. You haven’t come to terms with it yet.” His voice was a caress, and I had trouble