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Frustration bit into her. “Fuck you!”

He gave a low laugh. He was enjoying her predicament. And it was a predicament. Despite her denials, a large part of her wanted to dive right into bed with him. Stay strong, she urged herself. Prove to him how independent you are now. Make him regret assuming anything. Her body ached for him though, as if his very presence had set it on a path of expectation that no amount of reasoning could halt.

“Why deny it, Rowan? I can see you want me as much as I want you.” He put one arm up against the door frame, his massive physique towering over her.

She shook her head. “Damn you, Sean.”

There was a wicked gleam in his eye. “You always did look hellishly sexy when you’re annoyed. I never could resist you, stepsister or not.”

“Arrogant prick.” It was like the past three years hadn’t even happened. They’d spar like this back then, and it always ended the same way. “That was a long time ago, and you expect to come here and have me fall on my back for you when you haven’t even sent me much as text message for three years.”

“Two and a half.”

“Three.”

“You always did love to exaggerate.” He moved closer to her, stroking her upper arm with one large hand. “Be honest,” he whispered his mouth close to her ear, “you missed me.”

His warm breath and his proximity set her pulse racing.

Defiant, she tried to move out of his grasp.

Before she could dart away, he wrapped both hands around her shoulders and walked her back against the wall. Overwhelmed, she grasped and thumped his chest. She hated the way her body responded so keenly to his presence. She could smell him, soap and, beneath it, his scent. So familiar, doing bad things to her. When she met his stare, she meant to warn him off. Stalled, she stared back into his eyes, bright green and filled with suggestion, shadowed by a slash of dark brows that emphasized his rugged bone structure, his strength. Those eyes had haunted her sensual dreams and memories.

He wanted her to feel it, his desire, and his power. And she did.

Breathlessly, she warned him, whispering his name. “Sean, no. Things have changed, more than you know.”

With a husky laugh, he shook his head. “Maybe, but some things never change. You want me every bit as much as I want you.”

She thumped his chest with her fist. All that did was assure her the muscles under his clothing were solid, making her hands itch to check them out. “Stop assuming. You don’t know me any more, Sean Rattigan.”

“You admit I knew you well enough back then though. Knew how to make you happy. How to make you laugh.” His fingers were around the back of the neck, thumb stroking her under her chin. “How to make you come.”

It was a good job the wall was behind her, because Rowan was so turned on by his actions, she was practically melting down the surface. How did that happen? How did the mere touch of his fingers stroking her take away the strength and independence she was so proud of, the qualities she clung to on pain of death.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me, thinking about you…remembering?”

He was remembering. His eyes grew shadowed, as if distant thoughts plagued him. For a moment she thought she was sadness there. Had he really missed her? Or was this him playing his hand, his attempt at seducing her?

Don’t let your guard down, she reminded herself. She’d instinctively known it’d be hard to resist him if he wanted her. But this was her chance to prove she’d grown up too. “We were just a couple of emo kids kicking back against authority.” She emphasized the emo thing on purpose because he’d hated it. The would-be hacker boy-biker balked at it.

Right now it didn’t appear to stimulate anything but amusement. “What we had back then was nothing,” she added quickly, “nothing but a teenage fling. Doesn’t mean you can come in here three years later and expect me to drop my panties for you.”

“I’m not expecting you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Sincerity shone in his expression. “But I always could tell when you were up for it.” A slow insinuating smile crept over him. “Something about your eyes, sweetheart.”

His Irish brogue tapped deep into her psyche, and he was holding her so she couldn’t look away, forcing her to look back into his eyes while he confronted her.

“Besides,” he continued, “you wouldn’t deny a man fresh out of prison the chance to hold a woman in his arms.” His eyes darkened, his expression deadly serious. “The woman he thought about for a whole year behind bars…the only thing that kept him alive.”

Her breath caught in her throat. In the pit of her belly desire plumed.

Intrigued, she stared at his face. It was so much more brutal and rugged than she remembered. What had happened to him? Would she ever know? Curiosity swamped her, and that made it hard to break free from the moment.

Did he mean what he said? The only way to find out would be to hear him out, discuss things properly, but that wasn’t an option. Her emotions were all over the place and he was far too full-on to have a rational conversation. “We’re not kids any more, Sean. You can’t make comments like that and expect me to fall under your spell. You used to think you could say anything to get between my legs, but we’re all grown up now.”

He nodded. “So t

ell me you don’t want me.”

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