Page 132 of A Foolish Flirtation

“You made no reply,” he pointed out. “You were too busy kissing me.”

“Does that not give you clue as to my answer?” she teased.

He reached across to take her hand and place it on his chest. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I’d still like to hear you say the words.”

“I forgive you, Jeremy Vance,” she whispered. “With my whole heart.”

He swallowed convulsively. “I’m ashamed to say it, but I was so fucking miserable at the time that I did not even fully consider your feelings. I thought you would find someone better than me within a twelvemonth. I could not believe that you could feel one tenth of what I did. I was such an arrogant prick.”

He rolled onto his back and Emmie turned to face him, wrapping an arm about him for comfort. “God forgive me,” he continued in a low voice, “I did not even realize what I felt for you was love, not at the time.” He squeezed his eyes shut as though the memory pained him. “I just knew I wanted to be around you so badly, and that the thought of never seeing you again made me feel…empty inside.”

He turned his head to meet her gaze, his hand clasping her thigh as though for comfort. “But you see, I’d always felt empty until I met you, so it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. I just didn’t know any better. Then once I did…I realized too late what it signified.”

Seeing his bleak expression, Emmie rubbed her hand over his heart in a gentle circular motion. “It’s a good thing you’ve finally explained yourself to me,” she murmured. “Because now I understand why you kept bringing up that night and causing me so much offence.”

“Offence!” he echoed. “I kept bringing it up, because to me, that kiss in the conservatory was my most treasured memory. I was trying to—to reconnect us to our past.”

She nodded. “Whereas I associated it always with what happened directly after,” she said slowly, realizing that he must always have wanted to unburden himself to her. That was why he kept raking it all up, and she had resisted so hard, unwilling to travel down such a painful path with him again.

“You tried to show me your rosewood box,” she said softly, resting her chin on his chest, “and I told you lock it back up and throw away the key. Forgive me, my love. I clung to past resentment and did not think I had it in me to absolve you.”

“The fault was not yours, but mine,” he said swiftly. “But speaking of rosewood boxes, did you realize I still have yours?”

“Yes, I did realize,” she said absently, her mind on other things.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?” Jeremy asked with a frown. He caught her hand in his and intertwined their fingers.

“Oh, I was just reasoning things through.”

“What things?”

“Well, just how every time I disappointed you, you backed off and became so, well, polite and distant.”

“You never disappointed me,” he said quickly. “I turned polite because I feared I had upset you beyond all reason.” He hesitated. “That last time we were in here together,” he said, glancing about his room. “God, I’ll never forget how much you cried. It haunts me still.”

“Yes, I know. I shocked you badly. I thought you already knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That you had broken my heart all those years ago.”

A flash of pain showed in his eyes. “I knew I had disappointed you, but I had no idea,” he admitted. “I thought— To be honest, over the years I thought you must have been far better off without me. I made such a failure of my life. The drinking, the terrible marriage…everything. I tried to think of you as a perfect memory, preserved forever in that time, because when I imagined you living a life of happy contentment without me…”

“Then what?” She lifted her head to look at him.

“Then I grew maudlin, bitter, and jealous,” he admitted guiltily. “Over the years, I tried to push you out of my thoughts altogether. The last thing I wanted to know was that you were blissfully married to some solid man of business and a happy mother of five children.” He gave her an uneasy glance. “I’m unspeakably selfish like that.”

“I see,” she murmured.

“And then I found out that life had treated you so unfairly, Ballentine. And instead of being appalled by the hand you had been dealt, I was gleeful.” The arm about her waist tightened perceptibly. “Because that meant I still had a chance to get you up the aisle. If Stockton had not confessed all to you that morning, I still would have found some way of outing him from your affections.”

“How precisely?” Emmie did not really know why she was encouraging him so, but perhaps it would be best for him to fully unburden himself. Also, it was strangely fascinating to hear the inner workings of his head.

“Well, I would have set a private investigator on him, for one thing, to uncover some dirt or other. There had to be an underlying reason for that ridiculously long engagement. The truth would have come out and I would have seen him disgraced and maneuvered you into marrying me.”

“Hmmm.”

“If not that, it would have been by some other means, fair or foul. I knew I had to make you mine. It felt like fate.”