The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [48]
“I’m aware of that.”
“It would be foolish for you to do this.”
“I’ve been called a fool for lesser things,” she said calmly.
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be an unreasonable woman.”
“Really?” She smiled, just a little.
He looked pointedly at his watch. “Your time’s about up. Is there anything else you’d care to say…in closing?”
This last part was said with emphasis, as though he was eager to usher her out the door.
“I’m almost finished,” she told him.
He sighed.
“I’m not telling you how I feel so you can laugh at me, Simon.”
His gaze held hers. “I would never do that,” he said, then added, “any more than I did with the other women.”
She tried to disguise a smile. “Nor do I wish to be humiliated.”
He agreed with a nod.
“I have reason to believe you share my feelings.”
“You—”
“Do you kiss other female clients?” she asked, interrupting him.
He was silent.
“I didn’t think so. How many have you taken to your home?”
“None,” he admitted from between clenched teeth.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. To her relief, he was being honest.
“I’ve never had a woman…a client break down in tears and turn to me for comfort. Yes, I stepped over the line. I regretted it immediately and, if you recall, I apologized.”
“You did.”
“I realized it was a mistake to allow any client access to my personal life after you showed up at my home later with the soup. I should never have invited you inside.”
“Why did you?”
He refused to meet her eyes. “I’d been ill for several days and my resistance was weak.”
“Resistance to me?”
“No,” he countered sharply, “resistance to impropriety.”
“Ah.” So that was the excuse he’d chosen.
“Afterward, I was afraid you might have read more into that evening than was warranted, and I see now that you have. I’m sorry I didn’t address the subject earlier. I wish I had. As I feared, you’ve got the wrong impression.”
“I see.”
“It would be best if we could forget that evening entirely, put it out of our minds.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t forget that night. I can’t make myself regret it, either. It was after our evening together that I knew, Simon. I’d fallen in love with you.”
Simon met her look unflinchingly and yielded no emotion. “Please don’t continue. This is embarrassing for you and for me.”
“I have one other comment,” she said, striving to remain unemotional. “Actually, it’s more of a question than a comment.”
“Then out with it, and let this matter be laid to rest.”
She thanked him with a brief nod. “I can accept that a distraught female weeping on your shoulder might have caused you to offer comfort in a way you normally wouldn’t.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your understanding.”
“I can even accept the fact that your resistance was low when I dropped by your home that evening.”
Once more he nodded.
“But how do you account for the way you kissed me on Sunday?”
“Sunday?” he repeated. The color seemed to drain from his face.
“Can you tell me what prompted that kiss?” she asked.
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “I have no excuse,” he finally said.
“I’m not looking for excuses, Simon, I’m looking for honesty. It hasn’t been easy to lay out my heart for you. If I’ve misread the situation, then I apologize. In that case, I’ll walk out your door right now and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“That would…be a shame.”
“Yes, it would,” she agreed, hope seeping in for the first time since she’d entered his office.
“You’ve paid me a lot of money and I’d feel bad if you allowed this opportunity to slip by. John is awaiting an introduction, and I hate to disappoint him.”
Cassie closed her eyes, struggling to hold on to her poise. After a moment, she opened them and met his look head-on. “I’m not meeting John or any other man you deem the right mate for me. Or my ‘suitable’ mate or whatever word you want to use. I’ve already found him and it’s you.”
Simon didn’t acknowledge that comment in any way.
“Have I misread your feelings, Simon?” she asked softly.
He refused to answer.
Reluctantly she stood; she’d gone