said last night? Something about religion. “We’re both very religious.”
He moved closer to her. Her legs were now lying clear across his lap and his torso was bent toward her. His eyes sent her a look that whirled her insides up like a hurricane. “I don’t feel particularly religious right now.”
Her breath caught in her chest. “It’s probably just a side effect of your memory loss.”
Dio shook his head. “No. I doubt very much that a memory loss could change my feelings toward you. So, if I want you now, what makes you think that I didn’t want you then?”
Her throat went dry. God help her if he kissed her now. She wouldn’t be able to hold back, not with the way he looked at her, as if wanting to devour her whole. “It’s not that you didn’t want …”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying that you didn’t want me?”
Considering the dark storm she noticed looming in his eyes, she decided to play it safe. “Of course I want you. But there are other things to consider.”
His face turned into a mask of confusion. “What things?”
Ari looked away, frantically trying to find a plausible reason as to why they would have agreed not to have sex. Her eyes swept over the coffee table where an empty wine glass stood next to an almost empty bottle. She recognized the vintage. It was one of the wines he’d bought from her shop. Had he just emptied the entire bottle by himself tonight? A thought burst into her mind.
“It’s about your drinking problem.”
She felt him jolt back, his hands instantly leaving her thighs. It was a relief on one hand, but a loss on the other.
“My what?” His voice was a notch louder than before.
“Your problem with alcohol.”
“You’re trying to tell me I’m an alcoholic?” His head snapped to the empty bottle. “I had a little wine. But I don’t have a drinking problem.”
She sat up straight, lowering her legs to the floor, and motioned toward the bottle. “That’s not just a little wine. That’s an entire bottle.”
“Let me get this straight,” he said calmly. “You’re refusing me sex because you think I have a drinking problem.”
“That’s not how it was. We agreed—”
“No, you decided. I doubt I ever had a say in it. Looks more like you gave me an ultimatum. Isn’t that what you did? I’ll get sex if I stop drinking?”
The wheels in her brain kept turning. Maybe this was the solution to her problem. As long as she could convince him that she wouldn’t have sex with him if he didn’t stop drinking, she was safe from him—and her own desire. And from the little she knew about Dio, of what she’d seen on their dates, he really appreciated good wine. Yes, he drank more than other men did, but he seemed to be able to hold his liquor well, and she’d never seen him drunk.
“We agreed that we’d get married when you’ve dealt with your drinking, and once we were married we’d have sex.”
Ari noticed the anger that churned up in him. He shot up from the couch, suddenly towering over her.
“Two conditions, I see. First I deal with my drinking, then you want the ring on your finger. And only then, you’ll go to bed with me. Why did you get engaged to me in the first place when you have so little respect for me and for what’s important to me?”
Dio stormed toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
He turned his head but didn’t look at her. “I’m going out. Considering that you’re not willing to sleep with me, what else can I do but drink? Ever thought of that?”
The door slammed a second later.
Damn! This wasn’t going well.
Don’t worry, he’s just a hothead. He’ll calm down , the voice in her head assured her.
Chapter Twelve
As he downed the first glass in the dingy bar he’d come across, Dio felt marginally better. But his anger over Ariadne’s accusation hadn’t subsided—nowhere close to it. How could she expect him to give up wine? Today he’d discovered that wine seemed to be the
He moved closer to her. Her legs were now lying clear across his lap and his torso was bent toward her. His eyes sent her a look that whirled her insides up like a hurricane. “I don’t feel particularly religious right now.”
Her breath caught in her chest. “It’s probably just a side effect of your memory loss.”
Dio shook his head. “No. I doubt very much that a memory loss could change my feelings toward you. So, if I want you now, what makes you think that I didn’t want you then?”
Her throat went dry. God help her if he kissed her now. She wouldn’t be able to hold back, not with the way he looked at her, as if wanting to devour her whole. “It’s not that you didn’t want …”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying that you didn’t want me?”
Considering the dark storm she noticed looming in his eyes, she decided to play it safe. “Of course I want you. But there are other things to consider.”
His face turned into a mask of confusion. “What things?”
Ari looked away, frantically trying to find a plausible reason as to why they would have agreed not to have sex. Her eyes swept over the coffee table where an empty wine glass stood next to an almost empty bottle. She recognized the vintage. It was one of the wines he’d bought from her shop. Had he just emptied the entire bottle by himself tonight? A thought burst into her mind.
“It’s about your drinking problem.”
She felt him jolt back, his hands instantly leaving her thighs. It was a relief on one hand, but a loss on the other.
“My what?” His voice was a notch louder than before.
“Your problem with alcohol.”
“You’re trying to tell me I’m an alcoholic?” His head snapped to the empty bottle. “I had a little wine. But I don’t have a drinking problem.”
She sat up straight, lowering her legs to the floor, and motioned toward the bottle. “That’s not just a little wine. That’s an entire bottle.”
“Let me get this straight,” he said calmly. “You’re refusing me sex because you think I have a drinking problem.”
“That’s not how it was. We agreed—”
“No, you decided. I doubt I ever had a say in it. Looks more like you gave me an ultimatum. Isn’t that what you did? I’ll get sex if I stop drinking?”
The wheels in her brain kept turning. Maybe this was the solution to her problem. As long as she could convince him that she wouldn’t have sex with him if he didn’t stop drinking, she was safe from him—and her own desire. And from the little she knew about Dio, of what she’d seen on their dates, he really appreciated good wine. Yes, he drank more than other men did, but he seemed to be able to hold his liquor well, and she’d never seen him drunk.
“We agreed that we’d get married when you’ve dealt with your drinking, and once we were married we’d have sex.”
Ari noticed the anger that churned up in him. He shot up from the couch, suddenly towering over her.
“Two conditions, I see. First I deal with my drinking, then you want the ring on your finger. And only then, you’ll go to bed with me. Why did you get engaged to me in the first place when you have so little respect for me and for what’s important to me?”
Dio stormed toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
He turned his head but didn’t look at her. “I’m going out. Considering that you’re not willing to sleep with me, what else can I do but drink? Ever thought of that?”
The door slammed a second later.
Damn! This wasn’t going well.
Don’t worry, he’s just a hothead. He’ll calm down , the voice in her head assured her.
Chapter Twelve
As he downed the first glass in the dingy bar he’d come across, Dio felt marginally better. But his anger over Ariadne’s accusation hadn’t subsided—nowhere close to it. How could she expect him to give up wine? Today he’d discovered that wine seemed to be the
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