What if the next time she faced a traumatic event, he couldn’t talk her down? What if she shut him out again? Could he take that? Last night had demonstrated how little he knew about her. She was about as open as a fire safe. His gaze traveled the long corridor. He didn’t even know how much her apartment was worth.

And with his brain backfiring, all that came out of his mouth was a lame explanation. “We have nothing in common.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m a regular guy. I work till three in the morning. I get one day off a week, and I usually spend it doing laundry and working on my car. What did you do for fun as a kid?”

“Before my mother died, we went sailing. I had a pony, and she used to take me to horse shows.” Comprehension dawned in her eyes.

“Is this about money?”

“Not exactly.”

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m superficial and only care about things like sailboats?” Louisa’s face reddened with anger.

“I meant that we’re fundamentally different—”

Her glare cut him off. Uh-oh. He could feel her anger, her hurt, sizzle through the air.

She held her purse against her body like armor, like a shield, protecting her from him. “I don’t need you to be rich. Frankly, I have more than enough money of my own. I work for a living anyway. Do you know why?”

The question felt rhetorical, and Conor kept his mouth shut. He could barely move, but he bet he could still get his motorcycle boot into his mouth if he said a word.

“Because it isn’t enough. I’m not going to deny I like having money. I’ve never appreciated my fortune more than this week. I’m grateful I can afford this very secure building. But money isn’t everything.”

Conor swallowed and croaked, “I just—”

“Seriously, I love to vacation in Europe. I’d love to share my favorite places with you. If your ego can stand it.”

His ego had been given a good bitch slap, and a well-deserved one at that.

“I can’t believe, after a lifetime of dodging men who are interested only in my money, I find the one man who doesn’t want it.”

“I didn’t say—”

But she wasn’t finished. “I’m falling for you, and if that isn’t enough, then there’s nothing I can do.”

Falling for him? Was she implying the L word?

Stunned, Conor took two steps across the foyer. “It’s more than enough. Look, I’m not perfect. I can’t pretend I’m totally comfortable with our basic differences.” He gestured between them. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“Oh.” She let the purse drop to her side, but her posture remained tense. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”