He closed the door and when she heard it, she jumped. As he took two paces in the room, slowly, she lifted from the table and turned her gaze to him.
He halted when he saw her beautiful eyes swimming with tears.
Gods, gods, he’d damaged her worse than he thought.
“Madel—” he started.
But she spoke over him.
Her voice trembling, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
That was not what he expected to hear.
“Pardon?”
“So, so sorry.” She kept whispering.
“Madeleine.”
She shook her head. “So, so, so, so, so sorry, Apollo.”
She was sorry?
“My dove—”
“I’m selfish,” she stated and he stared. “It’s a weakness. Selfish and self-indulgent and thoughtless and stupid.”
Not liking her words, he took a step toward her but she sat back in her chair and lifted her hand his way.
“That tea was…” she started when he stopped moving. “I don’t know what it was. But you were trying to be nice. Trying to take care of me. Trying to be gentle. And I pushed it because I wanted something and…”
Suddenly, she looked away, her neck twisting so deep, he only had the back of her ear and head before she twisted back and he saw the tears chasing down her cheeks.
“As usual, I got what I wanted, damn the consequences,” she whispered brokenly and continued in her tortured voice. “Hurting you in the process.”
He remained where he was, distant, as caution dictated he do in her state, and asked, “Poppy, how on earth did you hurt me?”
“I look like her.” She informed him, her voice now agonized and he finally understood. “I look like her and you miss her. I threw myself at you, and first, you’re a guy. What are you going to do? Turn down a sure thing?” She shook her head. “No. No way. But one who looks exactly like your—”
At that, he was done.
He moved to her, pulled her from her chair and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to his body. He glided a hand up her neck, her hair sliding over and he twisted his fist in it, pulling back gently even as he slid his cheek along hers so he had his lips at her ear.
“I did not make love to my wife last night, Madeleine. I made love to you,” he said there.
“Well, yes…I know. I was there, but—”
His hand tightened in her hair slightly and he lifted his head to capture her eyes.
“No buts.”
She looked deep in his eyes, hers still wet, and came to a conclusion.
The wrong one.
“You’re just being nice.”
“Mad—”