“I’m taking that as a yes. Why didn’t you tell me?” She paused, and when he didn’t speak, she did. “I figure it’s one of two things. Either it slipped your mind, or you didn’t trust me with it.”

He opened his eyes, stared up at the ceiling, and sighed. “It was neither.”

In all the time she’d spent with him, he always seemed so big, so utterly invincible. Lying next to his tough, built body now, suddenly, she saw something else.

A hollowness, and a vulnerability.

And right then and there, her heart melted. Not good, but apparently she couldn’t control her own heart any more than she could control him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “So damn sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice was low, rough. “I can’t take the pity, I’ll—” He shook his head. “Just don’t. Please, don’t.”

She wanted to hug him. Wanted to make it better and couldn’t. “When?”

“When did I find out? The minute I did it in New York. I knew.”

“I meant the surgery.”

“Day after tomorrow.”

She let out a breath, some of the tension he’d just gotten rid of for her coming right back. “You didn’t tell me because you think I’m the press leak. That, or you thought I’d blog about it.” Either way, a shitty realization.

“It’s bad enough that the rumors turned out to be true.” Turning his head, he met her gaze with his own. “I didn’t want to face it.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she wouldn’t have repeated it, but nothing came out. Because the truth was, there’d been times in her life where little had been more important than the story she’d been telling, nothing more critical than dispensing the facts, without much concern for the aftermath.

Or people’s feelings.

And that, she realized, made her cold, and maybe just a little bit hard.

With a low exhale, Pace turned on his side and settled a big hand on her hip. His hair was disheveled, his eyes dark and sleepy and damn sexy.

And he had a bite mark on his neck. She’d done that.

“I can hear the wheels spinning,” he said softly.

“You don’t trust me, but you slept with me.”

“I’d like to point out the definite lack of sleeping.”

“Pace.”

He drew a deep breath, which filled his chest, which in turn brushed against her nipples, making them tight and achy all over again. Pace’s gaze locked in on one of them, his hand drifted up her ribs, and he lightly ran the backs of his fingers over her nipple, watching it pucker up even more. “It’s not a matter of trust.”

“It most definitely is.”

“Okay, it is.” He lifted his gaze to her. “I like you, Holly. I like you a whole lot.”