Quiet Walks the Tiger - By Heather Graham Page 0,72

you telling your sister how you had planned to marry me for my money. It was crippling, I had never felt so used and betrayed...I planned to surprise you with a kiss and instead I got the surprise. I slammed the door because I couldn’t stand to hear any more of it...Damn, Sloan,” he muttered fiercely, running a knuckle down the length of her arm, “I really wanted to throttle you that night. I had to leave...and then, I still had to have you, but I had to let you know too that I was well aware of your motives.”

“Oh, God, Wes,” Sloan moaned, longing to reach out and touch his cheek with its slightly rough edge of overnight shadow, but rubbing her own temple instead. “I’d give anything to take back that night—you only heard half a conversation. It was true, but it wasn’t true...and I can’t take any of it back or undo it...” she trailed miserably.

He was silent for a minute, then shifted so that he was sitting to draw her head against his side and take on the task of rubbing her forehead himself. When he spoke again, it was with the thread of silk she loved.

“I don’t want to spend my days in constant battle. We have major problems, but I don’t want a divorce. I don’t believe that you do either—especially not while you’re still financing that new dance school of yours.”

“Wes...” Sloan implored.

“Sorry, I was doing it again.” Wes grinned ruefully. “But we are going to set down a few ground rules. Legitimate deals. I promise no more wisecracks, and you promise to control your temper—no more slaps. I won’t go anywhere without your knowing exactly where I am—and we both make a pact to say what we really mean instead of striking out below the belt when we’re bothered. And please, no more businesses that I know nothing about! How about it?” His soothing fingers moved from her temples to tug gently at the ends of her hair.

Sloan nodded slowly. “Wesley,” she said, biting down on her lip. “You didn’t hear the whole conversation. I told Cassie that night that I did love you...had loved you...” Taking a deep breath, Sloan tried to explain the whole thing. “Cassie came over that night because she didn’t want me marrying you because she was afraid it would be a disaster. She knew I wasn’t crazy about seeing you in the first place, and then things moved so fast...She is my sister, but she thinks the world of you...” Sloan lamely sought the right words. “I was trying to tell her the truth—that yes, at first the money had been the draw, but only at the very first. I had no idea that you had heard any of the conversation, but when you left, I really didn’t need to explain any further to her! She knew that I loved you, really loved you...” Again, her voice trailed away feebly. “I won’t suggest that you just ask Cassie,” she started again with quiet dignity. “I realize that she is still my sister—and that you could well imagine I’ve had plenty of time to warn her that you heard what we were saying...I can understand that...but, God, Wes, it is the truth! I did love you, and I did tell her that night...I wish you would believe that!”

“It should be very easy to try,” Wes said softly in sincere promise, “because I want to.”

It was a qualifying statement, but a start. Sloan buried her face into his shoulder. They had been ripping one another apart when they were really after the same things. “Wes?” She could let matters lie, maybe should let matters lie...

But then she couldn’t...she had to ask...

“I spent two rotten weeks in Paris by myself,” he said, anticipating her question, “and since then, I was in Kentucky. Alone.” His touch was gentle as he smoothed her wild hair. “I haven’t been near another woman since the night I first walked into your house. Does that answer your question?”

She nodded mutely against his chest.

“And do you believe me?”

“I—I think,” she faltered, thrown by the question. “I want to believe you—”

“Don’t you see?” Wes queried lightly. “That’s the point.” His voice became passionate and intense as he groaned, “I want to believe you. I want to trust you more than anything in the world...”

“But I do love you, Wes,” Sloan choked, burying deeper into his side. “I did need money, everything was going so badly, but