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John’s smug smile suggested he’d missed Wolf’s kiss. When he shifted toward her for a kiss of his own, it shocked her. Public displays of affection offended him. Was he trying to compete?
She jerked back as his lips grazed hers. He seemed unfazed by her unenthusiastic response. Could he tell the difference?
“I’m surprised to see you, John. Aren’t you finalizing a big merger?”
“Yes. But you were attacked, and you didn’t return my calls.” His tone intimated she’d failed a test. “I was concerned.”
“It’s been a zoo. Not just the Onward threat. A student was badly injured off campus. I just came from the hospital.”
John gingerly ran a finger along the blossoming bruise on her cheek. Riley flinched. “Is this Onward nonsense tied to the freak who attacked you?” he asked.
“I have no idea what that monster wanted. Nothing to connect him to Onward. Maybe I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Did she believe that? No. But John—and her mom—didn’t need to know.
He cleared his throat, captured her hand. “Riley, I love you. I’m confident you’ll feel the same way . . . with time. We need to see each other more, spend more time together.”
Riley freed her hand. The withdrawal triggered a transformation. John’s lips reset in a thin straight line. His brown irises darkened. His eyes looked like the dead glass orbs that stared out of his hunting trophies.
He was used to getting what he wanted. Bur Riley couldn’t believe he wanted her.
Her stomach knotted. She didn’t want to hurt him. Dating had been weird déjà vu for a thirty-nine-year-old divorcee. Theater, four-star restaurants, Godiva chocolates for Riley and her mother. His attentions provided a semblance of a social life, despite the zilch chemistry.
She’d rebuffed John’s attempts to ratchet their relationship beyond a casual goodnight peck. Said she wasn’t ready for a physical relationship. So why was he launching a romantic assault now? Because he saw me kiss Wolf? Does he just hate the idea of losing to another man?
A corporate lawyer, John said he’d never argued before a jury. Still his approach made her think of rehearsed closing arguments. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury . . .” His declaration of love exhibited all the passion of a canned script.
She harbored serious doubts about any future with Wolf—was a fling worth crushing her mother? Yet John was no alternative. The more time they spent together, the less she liked him. His hovering solicitousness grated. His demeanor suggested he believed his IQ dwarfed hers. Not the makings of a lasting partnership.
And he was a sloppy kisser.
Hell, quit picking at the edges—rip off the Band-Aid.
“John, I’m truly sorry. You’re a nice man, but I don’t love you.” She prefaced the next sentence with an involuntary, nervous laugh. “If Mom were twenty years younger, she’d snatch you up in a heartbeat. But I feel no spark. It’s time to admit we’ll never be a couple.”
He didn’t say a word. Shock? Riley’s gut cramped. She hated to hurt him, even if only his ego. Still, goodbye was the right thing.
He stared into middle space. His hands strangled the leather steering wheel, causing the bones in his raised knuckles to show white against his taut skin.
He shook his head slightly. “You’re not yourself. The shock of that attack. The horrible pressure of your job. You’ll change your mind.”
She opened the car door.
“No, John,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I won’t.”