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“Here is fine,” she replied. She didn’t want him coming to the house she shared with her siblings and father. She might have her own wing of rooms, but the house was never empty. If anyone saw him there they’d have questions, and she wasn’t in the mood to provide answers. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to have Santiago in her private living quarters. His very presence would forever alter the character of the space, and she’d feel like a stranger in her own home. The rooms were her escape from the demands of her career and her family, her safe haven where she could relax and recharge. She didn’t need to be haunted by memories of Santiago in her home, examining her personal items and studying the private side of her life.
Santiago nodded, oblivious to her thoughts. “Very good,” he said. “I’ll come here then.”
Before she could react, he took a step forward and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. Ainsley sucked in a breath at the contact. Santiago drew back, then froze as their eyes met.
It was clear from the look on his face he’d acted without thinking. She knew she shouldn’t read into the gesture, that he’d been moving on autopilot and the kiss had simply been offered out of habit. But her cheek tingled from the contact, and her heart thumped hard against her ribs. With this man, her body wasn’t capable of ignoring any contact, no matter how innocent.
Something flashed in his green gaze—heat? Awareness? His eyes dropped to her lips. Unconsciously, her tongue darted out to moisten them. What are you doing? she screamed silently to herself. She didn’t want to seduce him, didn’t want him to think she was interested. But her brain was no longer in charge. Ainsley felt her skin warm as his scent filled her nose—starch, coffee and that intangible note that belonged to him alone.
His head dipped closer, making her breath stutter in her chest. Was he really going to kiss her? More importantly, was she going to stop him?
Apparently not. Without conscious thought, she leaned forward, reducing the distance between them. Santiago smiled faintly, and then she felt the warmth of his mouth as he brushed his lips against her own.
It was a gentle caress, the pressure like the stroke of a butterfly’s wings. But it started a fire in her belly that shot tendrils of heat through her limbs and triggered an ache in her heart.
Santiago pulled back, his lips shining and a bewildered look in his eyes.
“I—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.
Ainsley took a deep breath, trying to regain her equilibrium. “It’s fine,” she said. She glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Santiago hesitated, then moved away. The tension in her body eased as the distance between them increased. “Yes, of course,” he said, his tone professional now, as if he hadn’t just kissed her for the first time in more than five years. “Thank you again for your help.”
“Likewise,” she said. She stood and walked to her desk, placing her hand on it for support. “I appreciate you getting started on Ace’s case so quickly.”
“It was the least I could do.” He paused by the door, and she got the feeling there was more he wanted to say. But she kept her eyes on her desk, not wanting to engage him further.
He got the hint. She heard him sigh quietly. “Have a good evening.”
“You, too,” she said automatically. She waited until the door shut behind him before sinking into her desk chair. What had she done?
She rubbed absently at her mouth, her lips still tingling from the contact with his. Twenty-four hours, and she’d already kissed him.
“Technically, he kissed me,” she muttered. But that didn’t matter. The kiss had happened, and now she was going to have to forget about it.
They had a long week of close contact coming up. She couldn’t afford to get distracted, to let her body run the show.
If she was going to get through this with her heart intact, she couldn’t let things get personal between them again.
* * *
The next afternoon, Santiago pulled into the parking lot in front of the offices of Colton Oil and cut the engine. A quick glance at his watch confirmed he was a little early, so he decided to wait a few minutes before heading up to Ainsley’s office.
Nerves crackled in his stomach, making him feel unsettled. It was a strange sensation, one he didn’t experience often. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been nervous in his adult life, and he’d still have fingers left over. What was it about this situation that had him feeling out of sorts?
A flash of light caught his eye and he focused on the gold band on his left hand. The metal gleamed in the afternoon sun, as bright as a flame. He stared at the ring for a moment, having a hard time believing what he was seeing even though he’d put the band on his own finger earlier in the day.
After a childhood spent living in the shadows of his parents’ contentious relationship, Santiago had known marriage was not in his future. Even though his relationship with Ainsley had been good—better than he’d ever thought possible—a part of him had always known it wouldn’t last. Couldn’t last. After all, his own parents had started out madly in love with each other. But somewhere along the way, their affection had withered into mutual contempt. It was a pattern that had been repeated throughout the generations of his family, one he was determined to stop.
So when he’d had an opportunity to m
ove to New York to launch his career after law school, he’d said goodbye to Ainsley, knowing he was really doing her a favor. Better to leave now, while they still liked each other, than to let things disintegrate into the inevitable unpleasantness that would come.
He’d missed her terribly at first. Still did, if he was being honest with himself. Not that he lacked for company. He’d dated several women in New York, all of them beautiful and pleasant. But despite the affection he’d felt for each one, he’d never experienced the soul-deep connection that he’d had with Ainsley. Seeing her again had stirred up latent emotions, feelings he thought he’d processed long ago. But it turned out he’d simply buried his emotions in work rather than deal with them. Now he was going to have to pay the price.
Could he really go through with this? Could he really handle this sham marriage for the week? They’d be living in the same cottage, spending most of their time together. Her scent would be in his nose, her voice in his ears. His body already wanted her again—it had taken all of thirty seconds for his libido to sit up and take notice after walking into her office. And then that moment last night, when he’d kissed her...
It had been the wrong thing to do, he knew that. But it had felt so very right.
