The Case of the Mesmerizing Boss by Diana Palmer

it across his knee as he watched her. Her reaction to him was damning. He made her nervous. He could see her hands shaking, and he hated that part of the past that was responsible for her helpless fear.
    “You kept coming, no matter how hard I tried to push you away. You got closer than anyone else ever had,” he said without meeting her eyes, his fingers tracing a streak of mud on the knee of his jeans as the involuntary confession escaped him. “I got in over my head before I knew it. I didn’t really want a woman in my life.” “But you were married once, before you got shot,” she said.
    His eyes met hers and he smiled with pure mockery. “I started dating Jane because my mother didn’t like her. Then I married her because she wouldn’t sleep with me any other way. But she only suffered me in bed for one reason,” he said, without elaborating on the reason. His face hardened. “Eventually she went looking for a man who could give her everything she needed. I assume she found him when we were divorced. She’s remarried and has a child.”
    “Oh.” She frowned, her eyes searching his curiously as she tried to get up enough courage to ask a question that was gnawing at her.
    “You want to know why she didn’t like sleeping with me,” he said, nodding. “Do you really need to ask?”
    He was like a bulldozer, in every way. Perhaps the ardor he’d shown her that long-ago day was how he made love naturally. She hadn’t considered that likelihood.
    It opened her mind to new possibilities. She lifted her face. “Was it…were you that way with her? Like you were with me that day?”
     
    The Case of the Mesmerizing Boss47
    His jaw tautened. “I’ve never liked a woman enough to care whether or not she enjoyed me in bed,” he said bluntly. “I wanted Jane. I thought if she loved me, preliminaries wouldn’t matter.”
    Her breath escaped in a sigh. She was innocent on certain subjects, but she seemed to know more about than he did.
    “But…but you can’t just…just…” She colored. “Dane, women aren’t like men,” she said helplessly. “A woman has to have time, tenderness.”
    “How would you know?” he asked insolently. “Didn’t you just practically admit to me that you’re still a virgin?”
    The blush got worse. She glared at him. “Being innocent doesn’t make me stupid. I watch movies and read books, you know. I do have some idea of what a woman is supposed to feel with a man she loves.”
    “You loved me,” he said darkly. “And you felt nothing except fear.”
    “I was infatuated with you,” she corrected, shivering inside at the knowledge that she’d been so transparent. At nineteen, she’d known nothing about how to keep her heart hidden. “You hurt me, and not just emotionally.”
    “That wasn’t deliberate. I was…hungry for you,” he said hesitantly. He sounded almost vulnerable. “You were sweet and loving, and I thought…” He cursed under his breath. “What does it mat-ter?” His eyes darted up and slammed into hers. “You didn’t want me.” “You were so violent,” she whispered weakly.
    His fist clenched on his knee. “I don’t know any other way with a woman!” he said stiffly. His eyes narrowed as they met hers. “I was a late bloomer. My mother was the only woman I’d been around much and she hated men with a vengeance. In fact, she hated me, too. I got my first taste of women when I was a rookie cop. The kind of women you meet out on the streets in police work are every bit as tough as the men, because they have to be. The only encoun-ters I ever had were rushed and unemotional.” His eyes were unconsciously intent on her face. “The way I was with you that day… is the only way I know.”

48
    Diana Palmer
     
    “Dane,” she whispered, her voice soft with unwilling compassion. “I’m so sorry!” His dark eyes met hers. “What?” he asked absently.
    She wondered if he realized what he’d told her, how much of himself he’d