“Type it in.”
I sat there paralyzed and when I didn’t move Max leaned into me, picking out the letters on the keyboard with one finger then again to confirm then his hand covered mine on the mouse and he clicked “OK”.
His hand still on mine on the mouse, he twisted his head to look at me and he said, “That should do it.”
“I have to go,” I blurted and watched his brows draw together.
“What?”
I slid my hand from under his, rolled the chair away as he straightened and I stood, repeating, “I’ve got to go.” I held out my hand, palm up and requested, “Can I have my car keys?”
His brows were still knitted when he asked, “Where you goin’?”
“To town.”
“To shop?”
“To check into the hotel.”
He took a step toward me murmuring, “Duchess.”
I took a step back.
He stopped, his brows snapped together again and his face grew dark.
“What the f**k?”
“Thanks for, you know, today and last night and everything but, I have to go.”
“Why?”
Why?
There were so many reasons we’d both be eighty if I took the time to enumerate them all.
“I just do.”
“Give me a reason.”
“Max –”
“One,” he demanded firmly.
“Okay,” I said to get it over with, “maybe I’ve got it wrong, what’s happening here, but if I don’t perhaps I should remind you, I’m wearing another man’s engagement ring.”
“You don’t gotta remind me, Duchess, you gotta remind you.”
Oh drat.
I was getting angry, I could feel it.
“I’m sorry?” I said quietly.
“No woman had my ring on her finger when I got into bed with you last night.”
“Yes, well,” I leaned toward him, “I’m glad you brought that up.”
“Because you’re pissed I did it?”