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No, she wasn't calm at all. Her heart was beating like a bird's and she took her hand from Gray's because her palm was getting sweaty.
Gray indicated she should sit, which was just fine. Her knees were thinking of taking a break anyway. He took the chair beside hers, resting one arm on the table. She noticed absently that the white of his cuff screamed in contrast to the dark sleeve of his jacket.
During the ensuing silence, Joy downshifted from anxious into panic. And the suffocating sensation got worse when Three Piece came in with a thin leather box about eight inches long and four inches wide. The man flipped open the top and slid the tray forward.
Diamond rings.
She looked at Three Piece. His eyes glowed with pride at what he could offer.
Which was understandable considering you could light up a football stadium with what was shining out of that box.
“Will you excuse us?” she said to the man in a sur?prisingly commanding tone.
But that was the strength of insanity, she thought. Steady conviction backed up by nothing rational.
Three Piece nodded, as if she were his boss. “But of course.”
While he left with a bow, she had a feeling he would have taken a swan dive out the window if she or Gray had asked him to.
Commission. Clearly on commission. And what a bundle he could make moving one of those headlights, she thought.
When the door shut, she reached out and plucked a ring from its velvet sheath. The size was substantial. Ab?surd. And it was one of the smaller ones.
Beneath the overhead lighting, the stone's brilliance hurt her eyes. And surely there was a hell of a metaphor in that.
“What do you think you're doing?” She didn't look at Gray. Couldn't.
“Asking you to marry me.”
She shook her head, but only because she felt like she needed to do something other than start crying. Destiny seemed so cruel. To put her this close to being his wife.
“Why?” she muttered to herself. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Last nightÑ”
“Oh, please.” God, she'd had it with his regrets. “Are you aware we're living in the twenty-first century? I mean, we've got electricity, cars, the InternetÑ”
“Joy, listen to meÑ”
“And we've been through something called the sex?ual revolutionÑ”
“Goddamn itÑ”
“Which, in case you're not familiar with what hap?pened, made sex not such a big deal. So when you nail a virginÑ”
Now he really cursed. A ringing, four letter, tongue-burner.
“Ñyou don't have to do something stupid. Like ask her to marry you.”
“Are you finished?”
She cocked her head. Glared at him. “Actually, I'm just getting started. Why do you think in a million yearsÑ”
He grabbed her shoulders hard, nearly pulling her out of her chair. Gone was the polite restraint. His eyes burned. “I hurt you.”
“And you think this is going to make it better? Gray, you don't mean this. You don't want this. You're flying wild on some huge guilt trip and as soon as you come down, you're going to hate what you've done. Worse, you're going to end up resenting the hell out of me and that'll do more damage than anything you did to my body last night.”
He let her go, moving her gently back. “I just want to make it right. I want to make it up to you.”
“Well, this isn't going to do it. I want to be chosen by my husband. Freely.” Her voice threatened to break and she glanced away. To the roses.
And didn't they look just like a bridal bouquet? Ter?rific.
She fought against the urge to bury her face in her hands.
She wanted to be picked by Gray. She really did. And there was a part of her that was desperately tempted to give herself up to the mistake he was making.
Except she couldn't. There was no way to ignore the truth that, but for the fact she'd had no lover before him, they never, ever, would have been near those diamonds.
She put the ring back.
“Let's go,” she said, suddenly exhausted.
He took her hand in his. “Are you sure you don't want one of those?”
“Under these circumstances? Absolutely not.” She stared at the brilliant display. “Besides, they're beautiful, but rather cold.”
“Will you still let me see you?” he said abruptly.
She looked over at him. A clean break would be in her best interests, especially because she couldn't begin to guess where they were headed. It wasn't as if he was into relationships.
“You can't be serious.”
He cleared his throat, ignoring her comment. “It can be here, up north, wherever. I'll do the traveling. I'll come to you. I just want to keep seeing you, okay?”
She shook her head. “I'm not interested in hanging around just so you can work out your guilt. In fact, it's kind of insulting to think that's the only reason you'd want to see me.”
“That's not why. I like you, I honestly do. I like being with you. You're...different to me.”
“Yeah, I'll bet. When was the last time you had a vÑ” She shut her mouth. “Please don't answer that.”
“Joy, look at me.” She shifted her eyes over to his. “I'm not expecting anything from you. We can keep it as casual, as light, as you want.”
She measured his eyes, surprised by the gravity in them. The need.
“I don't know, Gray.”
As if her answer wasn't the one he wanted, he eyed the rings again.
She closed the lid on the box and got to her feet.
He stared up at her. “Most women would have taken one of those.”
“I don't doubt it.”
He shook his head. “You keep surprising me.”
She thought about the clarity with which she saw what he was doing even though she was hurting. And the strength that had allowed her to pull them both back from his lapse in judgment. It was odd. He was supposed to be the worldly, powerful one, but she had the sense that she was handling the situation, the emotions, better than he was.
“Funny, I'm kind of surprising myself, too.”
Chapter Ten
A week later Gray watched as Joy walked into the Con?gress Club's bar. His blood pumped harder just seeing her. It was always like that. Anytime she came into sight. Anytime he smelled her. Anytime he thought about her.
To hell with exposure therapy. He wanted her more every day, not less, though he was keeping a leash on himself.
And he knew he was lucky. One of Cass's friends had seen some of Joy's work and ordered two gowns. Which meant Joy had had to stay in Manhattan even after she'd finished the dress for Cass. So he'd had a rare chance to see her on a regular basis.
He'd been with her almost every night, taking her to the theater, out to dinner, to a gallery opening. But at the end of each date, he left her at the lobby of Cassandra's build?ing with nothing more than the request to see her the next day. He was never sure he would. He kept waiting for her to pull the plug on him, uncertain when he phoned Cass's that Joy would accept his call or even still be in town.
The combination of sexual frustration and newfound insecurity was driving him nuts. As a public service, every night he'd go back to the Waldorf, change into his workout clothes and hit the gym for hours. He was so sore from lifting, he could barely brush his teeth. And stairs were a challenge because he'd burned out his thighs on the treadmill.
At this rate he was going to end up with dentures and a walker. Prematurely.
When Joy caught sight of him, she gave him a little wave. As she came over to his table, other men watched her discreetly and eyed Gray with envy. He didn't appre?ciate either kind of attention. He didn't need to be re?minded of how attractive other men found her.
“You are not going to believe this,” she said as he helped her with a chair.
God, she was beautiful. Her hair was up tonight and her cheeks glowed from the cold wind blowing through the city.
He wanted to kiss her hello, but didn't. He'd been so careful not to touch her though the distance was nearly impossible to bear. Focusing on the pale line of her throat, he wanted toÑ
“Gray?”
“Sorry?”
She smiled at him. “I asked if you'd seen this.”
He looked at what she was holding out to him. It was the Style section of The New York Times. There was a pic?ture of Cassandra wearing a stunning red gown and the caption underneath had Joy named as the designer.
“Cassandra's dress was a hit at the gala! And four more of her friends want me to make gowns for them. Isn't this great?”
He smiled, enjoying her pleasure. Her pride. “I'm not surprised in the slightest.”
“I'm going to see the women tomorrow morning and then go home and work on the gowns.”
“Home? To Saranac Lake?” When she nodded, he frowned. “Do you have to leave?”
“I can't very well keep staying with Cass. She's been far too generous with that guest room already.” As the bartender came over, she looked up. “I'd like a Chardon-nay, please. Just the house.”
The man nodded. “Another bourbon for you, Mr. Bennett?”
“No, I'm good.” When they were alone, he said, “I have an extra bedroom. Would you like to stay with me?”
He almost hoped she'd say no. The idea of her sleep?ing across the suite from him was enough to make his skin itch.
“Thanks, but no. I have to go home. Grand-Em is bet?ter on her new meds, but they all need a break from watching her. And Nate and Frankie's wedding is in three weeks. I want to be there to help out.” She leaned back as her wine was put down. “Thank you.”
Gray stroked the side of his glass, trying to rearrange his schedule in his head. “I have to go to D.C. tomorrow, otherwise I'd drive you back.”
“That's okay. I like the train.”
“When will you return?”
A large shadow came over their table. “Hey, Bennett, what's doing?”
Gray looked up at Sean O'Banyon. The man was wearing a well-well-well-isn't-this-interesting expres?sion.
“O'Banyon,” Gray said, while shooting a warning glance at his friend. “I thought you were in Japan this week.”
“Came back early. And who might you be?” the man murmured, looking at Joy.
“Joy Moorehouse,” she answered, offering her hand and a smile.
“Joy? Nice name.”
“Thank you,” she said, as they shook.
“Mind if I join you?”
Now, that was a bad idea, Gray thought. “As a matter of fact, yesÑ”
“Of course not.” Joy glanced across the table, obvi?ously surprised at his rudeness.
As SOB took a seat, Gray reminded himself that the darkly handsome man was a good buddy. And not target practice.
“So, Joy, has Bennett been showing you a lot of the city?”
“Is it so obvious I'm not from here?”
SOB smiled, clearly determined to dust off his charm. The bastard. “No, I just recall my man mentioning that you lived up north.”
Joy's eyes skipped across the table, as if she were sur?prised Gray had been talking about her.
Gray glowered. “Don't you have to be somewhere hocking stocks, O'Banyon? Like a widows and orphans convention?”
SOB laughed and ordered a whiskey.
“I've got plenty of time to spare. Unlike yourself. I hear Wright's got a shot in the mayoral election thanks to your magic.” The man smiled across the table at Joy. “Has Bennett told you what he really does for a living?”
Gray nursed his bourbon. “She doesn't want to hear about that.”
“Actually, I do,” Joy said.
