Melting the Ice Queen ✔️

~5~

Hold up.

Scott floundered, wishing he could cut out his tongue and then swallow it whole as protection against any other impromptu confessions. Had he actually said that aloud? That he wanted to marry her?

Brilliant, genius.

This whole night had been a disaster from beginning to end. Well, except for the explosive sex. That had gone well. But then he'd started talking, shooting his best-laid plans straight to hell.

To think that he was a tough litigator feared far and wide for his sharp mind, keen analytical skills and uncanny ability to talk juries into agreeing with anything he wanted. He could almost snort, it was so funny. Ten seconds with Alicia and he became a blathering fool with uncontrollable diarrhea of the mouth.

He'd meant to start slow. Why hadn't he started slow? He knew she was skittish. Wasn't that one of the basic principles of practicing law: know your opponent? Not that they were opponents, but still. He knew that her parents had a terrible marriage. He knew her defense mechanism was to hide behind a layer of ice. He knew she needed careful finagling. And had he kept any of these key pieces of information in mind just now? Hell, no. He'd been so relieved to finally reveal his feelings that he'd lost his freaking head.

They should do the world a favor and revoke his law license now. He was clearly too stupid to be a lawyer.

Time to mitigate the damage. "Alicia—"

"I can't marry you."

"Not today, no."

"Not ever."

She didn't mean that—not really. That was the thing about Alicia, one of the reasons she was so endlessly fascinating to him: what you saw on the outside wasn't what you got.

On the outside, she was a cool beauty with a bombshell's body, wary and prickly, her amazing gray cat's eyes on the lookout for trouble and her lush mouth slow to smile. But when she warmed up—and make no mistake about it, he knew exactly how to warm her up, both in bed and out—she was the sun, the moon and the stars, her laughter an amazing gift and her spirit as loving and generous as any he'd ever encountered.

As long as he didn't get too close.

Only now he wanted—needed—close, and so did she. She just didn't know it yet.

"You never want to get married?"

"I don't want any kind of serious relationship."

"Well, here's a news flash, Alicia. We've got a serious relationship. One developed while you weren't looking."

"That's not true—"

Lord, was this woman in denial. "Who do you tell about your courtroom battles? Who do you spend every weekend and holiday with? Which two people that we know took care of each other last month when they had the flu? Who makes you scream and shout in bed? Who do you have the most fun with in life? Answer me."

She didn't. She couldn't. He'd pushed her too far tonight and, like an overtired two-year-old, she now refused to go any farther, preferring instead to turn her stony face away and stare across the room.

He let her stew.

Finally, she turned back, her expression carefully neutral and all her emotion locked away behind her eyes, where he couldn't access it. "I can't give you what you want."

Like that was the end of the matter. Didn't she know him better than that?

He nodded somberly. "I understand."

Her breath hissed out in a rush, and her face brightened with hope. "You do?"

"Yes."

"Then...we can go back to the way we were?"

He opened his arms and she all but fell into him, clinging and burying her face in his neck. Running his hands over her back to bring her closer, he felt the frantic heat of her skin and the violence of her pulse.

And she claimed she wasn't in love with him?

Bullshit.

Pulling away, he pressed his lips to her forehead for a lingering kiss. Then he walked her to the door, opened it, and gently pushed her out into the hall.

"But—" she sputtered.

"Goodbye, Alicia." He had to clear his hoarse throat and force the words out as he closed the door in her bewildered face. "Have a wonderful life."

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