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My heart stops in my chest. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Did she decide she doesn't have feelings for me?
She shakes her head. “Things have become complicated with this whole situation. I care about you. I have feelings for you. But with the way—”
“Do you love me?”
There is a very clear brain-to-mouth disconnect going on today with me.
Agatha bites her lower lip but doesn't say anything.
“Agatha.”
My fingers are itching to touch her, to run my fingers through the strands of her beautiful hair, but I am forcing myself to stand still, my hands in my pockets.
She closes her eyes as if gathering the strength to answer my question.
Her gaze is direct when she answers. “I do. Of course, I do.”
I take a step in her direction. “Then I don’t know what’s so complicated.”
“This whole thing.” She watches me advance on her, her eyes growing darker, her words slower. “We’ve been forced into close quarters and—”
I walk around the desk that separates us, cupping her face in my hands. “And what?”
“Um, and, uh—” She stares at me, struggling to come up with the right words. “It’s, uh—”
“Yeah?” My mouth brushes against her right temple. “Go on.” My lips touch her eyelids, making her sigh. “It’s what?”
I feel her body tremble as I finally reach her mouth. Her lips part and as I swoop in, I feel her go limp against me. I groan softly, a low sound in my throat, when her arms circle my neck.
I don’t care that the people in her office can watch through the glass. However, I turn my back to the table so that my larger frame hides hers from view. Pulling her close ‘til her every curve fits against my body, I consume her mouth with a kiss that screams of need and want.
I want her hot and panting, unable to think.
A faint moan escapes her lips, and I feel a surge of triumph when I feel her respond in her kind, her moving to grip my hair, her mouth moving against mine, fueling the urgency. My hands are everywhere: her waist, her throat, her ass. I want her with a desperation that I didn’t realize.
When we finally pull apart, we were both gasping for breath, and the crimson flush on her pale skin makes my heart shudder in my chest.
“Well, uh,” she tries to draw in some air. “That wasn’t… That was definitely not complicated.” When I try to go in for another kiss, she plants a hand on my chest. “Down, boy.”
I raise a brow at the phrase, but her grin and the burning heat in her eyes make me still. “How come?”
“There are still people here. I can’t have them thinking that you can just walk in here and kiss me silly. I have a reputation to maintain.”
I cover her hand with my larger one. “Is that all I had to do? Kiss you and make all your reservations go away?”
She studies my face, and I see the regret fill her eyes. She leans her forehead against my chest. “I’m sorry. I know I’m making things hard on you.”
My hand automatically goes to her nape, a possessive hold. “You can take all the time you need, Agatha. I just miss you. I miss talking to you. It feels like my one screw-up caused all this damage and I can’t seem to fix it.”
She lets out a dry laugh. “Yes, well. I’ve not exactly helped your case. I have this thing which I like to call holding a grudge.”
My body vibrates with silent laughter. “So I’ve noticed.”
She looks up at me, and I see the vulnerability that she usually cloaked with power and confidence. “I’m not forgiving like Charlotte or gentle like Sarah. I get mad at stupid things, and sometimes I don’t let go of things. I won’t let you protect me all the time. And I’ll yell at you when I’m pissed. And I’ll sometimes get angry when we’re arguing and you start making sense. You know what you’re getting into, right?”
My heart feels full right then as my hands go to her face and I press a kiss on the tip of her nose and then steal a soft kiss from her mouth. “I know what I’m getting into. I’m not perfect either. I get jealous; I mean, I trust you, but I keep wanting to let other guys who’re sniffing around you know that you’re taken. I get mad, too, at times. I can be a workaholic sometimes. Do you know what you’re getting into?”
