She gazed up at him and he thought at that moment she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. No other women he’d messed around with before could claim that. He inwardly flinched when he thought of what he’d just done. He had compared her with all the other women in his womanizing life and in essence none could compare to her. In fact, her biggest beef about having an affair with him were those other women in his life. But he knew at that moment he would give them all up for her.
The reality of him willingly doing that hit him below the belt and he nearly tumbled over. Derringer Westmoreland would give up his lifestyle for a woman? Make a commitment to be only with her? He drew in a sharp breath. He’d never made such an allegiance with any female. Had never intended to be dedicated or devoted to one. There were too many out there and he enjoyed being footloose and fancy-free. Was she worth all of that? He knew in that instant that she was.
“What are you doing here, Derringer?”
He could tell she had regained control of the senses they’d both lost when she had opened her door. He had initiated the kiss, but she had reciprocated, which told him that although she wished otherwise, she had enjoyed it as much as he had.
“I needed to see you,” he said simply.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s what you said the last time.”
“And I’m saying it again.”
She drew in a deep breath and then turned and walked toward the sofa. He followed, thinking at least she hadn’t asked him to leave…yet. She sat down on the couch and he dropped down on the love seat.
“If you had to venture out in this blasted weather, why not go visit Ashira Lattimore? I’m sure she has a bed warming for you.”
The last thing he needed to do was to admit there was a strong possibility the woman did. As far as he knew, Ashira had gotten it into her head that she would eventually become Mrs. Derringer Westmoreland. He wouldn’t marry Ashira if she was the last woman on earth. She was too possessive and clingy. On the other hand, the woman sitting across from him wasn’t possessive and clingy enough. Yet she claimed to love him, when he knew all Ashira wanted was the Westmoreland name and all his worldly possessions.
“She isn’t the woman I want warming a bed for me,” he said quietly, glancing over at her intently. Not only did she look good as usual, she smelled good, too. He was so familiar with her scent that he could probably pick her out of any room even if he was blindfolded.
“Do most men care what woman warms their bed?”
He’d never cared until now.
“Don’t answer, Derringer, you might incriminate yourself,” she said bitterly.
That should have gotten him off the hook, but he felt a need to respond anyway. “Those who find the woman they want care. Then they are willing to give up all the others.”
She lifted a brow and he knew the moment she thought she had boxed him into the perfect corner, one she figured he wouldn’t be able to get out of because there was no way he would give up his other women for her. It amazed him that he could discern just how his woman thought.
His woman?
He smiled thinking that yes, she was definitely his woman.
“And you want me to believe you’re willing to give up all other women for me,” she said, chuckling with a look on her face that said the whole idea of him doing such a thing was simply ridiculous.
“Yes, I’d give up all other women for you,” he said, meeting her gaze with a look that told her he was dead serious. She almost dropped the cup she was holding in her hand.
She shook her head. “Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not,” he responded. “I’m as serious as a Bugatti Veyron on an open road.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh, yes, sweetheart, I am.”
She simply stared at him for a moment and then asked in a cautious and quiet tone, “Why?”
“Because you are the only woman I want,” he said.
“But love has nothing to do with it?”
He knew he had to be completely honest with her. He didn’t want to give her false hope or misguided illusions. “No. Love has nothing to do with it. But we’ll have something just as important.”