Real Men Will. Victoria Dahl

and his jaw jumped with frustration instead of aggression, so Eric turned and followed Beth into the back.

      She was pacing across the kitchen area, her movement followed by the workmen’s fascinated eyes. She wore the same kind of hip-hugging skirt he’d seen her in last night, but this time her stiletto heels were dark purple instead of black.

      Eric swallowed hard. “My office is this way.” He gestured toward the hallway and she glared at his hand as if she wanted to snap it off.

      “We might want to stay out here. Whoever you are, you’re less likely to end up dead if there are witnesses.”

      One of the men made a noise that was somewhere between a bark and a laugh, but when Eric shot them a glare, both men pressed their mouths into straight lines.

      When he didn’t respond, Beth passed by him with a sneer and stalked down the hallway. He gestured toward his office and the chairs in front of his desk, but she didn’t sit down. Instead she paced to one corner and then spun around to glare at him.

      “You came back,” he said quietly as he shut the door.

      “Yes, I came back. Is that your big concern right now? How about, who the hell are you? How about we start with that?”

      “Of course,” he said, his face flaming with embarrassment. This was no longer a gorgeous secret they shared. It wasn’t a quiet whisper he could offer into her ear to make her smile. There was no more titillation in this for her; it was all betrayal.

      Her eyes looked furious and frightened.

      “I’m sorry, Beth,” he said. “I can’t… Listen. When we met, you thought I was my brother because of the name tag on the table. He was supposed to have been working the booth that day.”

      “Well, that explains the first fifteen seconds of our relationship,” she snapped.

      “I know. I mean, I knew at the time that it wasn’t right. I did try to correct you—”

      “You’re kidding, right? Did you try really, really hard, Eric?”

      “I—”

      “This is…this is horrible. You lied to me just to…”

      “No, it wasn’t like that. I swear.” Eric felt sweat prickle along his hairline, and his stomach turned as he registered the hurt on her face. “Beth, I’m so sorry.”

      “Why would you do that? I don’t understand.”

      “I don’t know. At the time…at the time you said you’d heard of my brother, you knew his reputation, and maybe that made it easier.”

      “You pretended to be him because you thought that’s who I wanted?” she shouted.

      “No. Not that. I knew you wanted me.”

      Her gaze had been shifting wildly around his office, but her eyes flew to him at those words. “You should have told me. Right at the start. Or later, when we met for wine. Or—” Her voice stopped as if the words had been cut in half. They’d met for wine the first day of the expo, and he’d touched her in that hidden booth, making her come while the rest of the bar moved around them unaware. The memory seemed to flash over her face and turn into shame.

      “Who are you?” she growled, her hands clenching to fists.

      “I’m Eric. Donovan,” he clarified stupidly. “I’m Jamie’s brother. I thought it would be easier if…” Hell, what else was there to add? He was the brother of Jamie and Tessa Donovan and he helped run the brewery. There was really nothing more he could think to say. That was all there was. Which was why he’d been able to talk himself into this mess in the first place. Because he hadn’t been willing to risk ruining the brief, wild spark that had arced between him and Beth. He’d needed that moment to be someone he’d never been before.

      Beth closed her eyes and shook her head. “You thought it would be easier,” she whispered. “Easier to get me into bed.”

      “That’s not what I meant. I swear to God, Beth, that wasn’t it. We were just… It was all just a fantasy, wasn’t it? I didn’t want to make it…”

      “Real?” she filled in. And yes, that was what he meant, but it sounded cruel now. It sounded horrible.

      Tears flashed to life in her eyes, and Eric reached for her, knowing he shouldn’t. She stepped back and his hand fell, but she watched it as if it were a snake.

      “You made me into a fool.”

      “I’m so sorry.”

      “And now—” She swept an arm in the direction of the barroom. “Now I let everyone know you made a fool out of me. Jesus.”

      He shook his head.

      “I did,” she insisted. “But that’s okay, because I wanted everyone to know that you were the one who should be ashamed. Not me.” She pressed a finger to her mouth. Her eyes looked far away. “I didn’t want it to be me feeling that.”

      “You shouldn’t. I wasn’t trying to trick you. I just didn’t know how to stop and say, ‘Can we start over? My name’s actually Eric.’”

      “That’s no excuse.”

      “No, it’s not.”

      “You should have told me then. Or last night. Or anytime in the past six months.”

      He nodded, and Beth met his gaze again, her dark brown eyes deep with sorrow. “You’ve ruined it.”

      “I know.” He did. It had been a perfect memory. A perfect moment in his life. Her body and her mouth and her trembling hands. And now it was something sordid.

      Beth stood a little straighter and seemed to reset herself. The tears stopped and her chin rose in disdain as she stepped forward and brushed past him. “I just wanted you to know that. That you ruined it. Don’t ever call me. Don’t get in touch. But I guess that was your plan from the start, right?”

      She was right, so he didn’t dare touch her arm to stop her. He didn’t even apologize again. He just let her slam his office door and disappear from his life as quickly as she’d reappeared.

      Eric collapsed into a chair, let his head fall into his hands and called himself every name in the book. And yet there was still that small, stony part of him that didn’t regret what he’d done. Not at all. It was that same part that had always been selfish, but lately it seemed to be growing.

       CHAPTER THREE

      AS SOON AS SHE’D SLAMMED the door behind her, Beth lost her ability to hold it together. She couldn’t draw enough air. She was breathing too hard, too fast, and she worried she might pass out at any moment. That would be the only thing that could make this unbearable situation worse: being found passed out in the back hallway of the brewery as if she were some delicate flower of womanhood, overcome with sexual shock.

      So Beth put her hand to the wall and made herself breathe slowly in and slowly out. She bowed her head for one moment, keeping an ear out for the sound of Jamie’s—Eric’s—door opening behind her.

      But he didn’t follow her, and Beth calmed down, and when she opened her eyes she was steady enough to walk. There were two men on the far side of the kitchen, and they watched her as if they feared she might snap at them like a mad dog. She ignored them, and was reaching for the double doors when they swung inward.

      She stopped short, clasping her hands to her chest. It was him. The man who was really named Jamie. And it was all so obvious in that moment. This man was the Jamie Donovan she’d heard rumors about. He was handsome and roguish-looking, and she could perfectly picture him wearing a kilt and flirting as he delivered beers to customers. Eric, on the other hand, looked like a man who never bothered with flirting.