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Scratching his head, he muttered, “You’re afraid of yourself? I don’t get it, Sierra.”
Groaning, she snapped, “Men are so damned thick-headed sometimes!” She saw him suddenly get it. And then he gave her a megawatt smile that avalanched her body, her pounding heart, and pummeled away all that fear before it.
“So?” he said in a low growl, slowly walking toward her, “you like me? That’s it. Isn’t it? You’re afraid if I kiss you, you’ll want more.”
Giving him a mutinous glare, she held her ground. “Don’t come one inch closer to me, Mace.”
He halted, grinning like he’d won a helluva lot more than just a kiss. “I didn’t know that. I mean,” and he opened his hands, “I was HOPING. I thought that night I held you and tried to keep you dry, that I saw something in your eyes. I was afraid to interpret it, Sierra.” He rubbed his jaw, shaking his head. “I’ll be damned. Then? It’s mutual.”
Growling, Sierra said, “…I guess… maybe…”
“Then,” he said, taking the victory out of his voice, “I’m going to let you decide what to do, Sierra.” And he held her gaze. “And I’m okay either way. All right?”
Some relief filtered through her. But her heart and body were screaming for some other kind of relief, for him to touch her, love her. Sierra knew without a doubt, this man would kiss her into the sweetest kind of oblivion. “I can’t do it, Mace. I just—can’t.”
“But,” he cast around, “if we weren’t in the situation we’re in now, you’d be okay with it?”
Lifting her head, she knew she owed Mace her honesty and her courage. “Yes…”
Nodding, he smiled a little. “That’s good to know.”
Sierra didn’t think so. “Maybe,” she whispered unsteadily, “this is for the best.”
“I hadn’t thought you were a one-night kind of gal.”
She gave him a miserable look. “No… I’m not. I just don’t have it in me, Mace.” And this was one time Sierra was sorry she wasn’t emotionally built for that kind of fling.
“You play for keeps. I understand.”
Never had she felt so damned miserable. Her gut clenched. She gave a helpless shrug. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not?” She saw a glimmer of amusement come to his eyes. The man had relaxed tonight, and he’d smiled so often that she was blinded by how handsome he really was. Sierra couldn’t help but be drawn to Mace when he was not in threat mode. The difference was breathtaking to her.
“No. Well,” he hedged, “I am, but I understand where you’re coming from. Okay?”
“Okay.” She swallowed, her throat tight. Starving for him. Just a taste. A touch. “I-I’m afraid, Mace. Afraid that it would distract us.”
“Yeah, I get that too. I don’t think it would, but I respect what you’re feeling.”
He stepped forward, grabbed her hand and tugged on it. “Come on, let’s play some more Scrabble? I promise I won’t make any more bets with you.”
Her fingers curled around his strong, warm ones. “Are you sure?” and she searched his stormy gray eyes.
“Very sure,” he rasped her, his voice low with feeling. “Come on. Beat the pants off me?”
She laughed a little. “Well, not that… no… but I will beat you, Kilmer.”
He released her hand and pulled the chair out for her to sit on. “It’s not a bad way to get to know a person,” he said, walking around to his side of the table.
Giving him a wary look, Sierra collected all the tiles, dropping them into the pouch and shaking it between her hands. “Are you seriously old fashion?”
“Maybe a guy with a few morals in place?” he teased her. “Does that surprise you?”
A hesitant smile came to her lips. “I know guys who, if they were in your position, would have done a lot differently. They would have, for sure, taken advantage of the situation.”
“I’m not one those men, Sweetheart.” And he became very serious, holding her gaze. “I play for keeps, too, Sierra. Just remember that…”
