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He couldn’t lie, as he usually did. Just repeat the phrase as casually as possible, or simply brush it off and then forget about it. Because Cassie would see right through it. And if he told her the truth, that as far as he was concerned love was just a gimmick that people used to trap each other, she’d be hurt. And he didn’t want to hurt her. Not only that, but she might walk out on him. And while he knew it was selfish of him—not to mention arrogant and egotistical—he didn’t want her to walk. Not yet. She was good company, she was sexy as hell, and he liked the way she looked at him—with that strange combination of innocence and confidence and understanding. It made him feel lighter, more optimistic than he had in a long time. As if all the mistakes he’d made in his life, all the things he’d done wrong, didn’t matter if he was with her.
‘Merry Christmas, Jace,’ she whispered at last.
Relief washed through him, the lucky escape making him feel like a man who’d just walked away from a firing squad.
She hadn’t said it. Thank God.
He frowned. Had he just imagined that look?
The frown deepened. Okay, too much great sex was clearly making him a little nutty too because why should that bother him? This was good news.
He skimmed his hand down her back, felt her lush body curl against him—and shoved down the stupid swell of contentment that followed.
‘How about we get out of here tomorrow?’ he suggested. ‘Go someplace?’ There were tons of things they could do in London. They’d hardly been out of the hotel suite and—while he was going to find it torture keeping his hands off her—he probably needed to reduce the physical intensity for a while. And after Boxing Day he really needed to get stuck into those meetings that he’d been holding off on too.
Today had got way too intense, for a number of reasons. Letting her simple Christmas gift get to him had been bad enough, but then blurting out all that stuff about his childhood and letting the sympathy and compassion shining in her eyes get to him too had only compounded the problem. Cassie had slipped under his guard somehow, and it was a mistake he would have to correct, and fast. They only had six more days before his flight back to New York and by then he was letting her go.
She lifted up, propped her elbows on his chest to look down at him, her full breasts distracting him as they swayed enticingly.
‘Mr One-Track Mind isn’t seriously suggesting we do something other than sex, is he?’
He choked out a laugh, then grasped her hips and neatly reversed their positions, nestling his hardening erection against her stomach.
‘Don’t push your luck, Cassidy. Or you may find yourself imprisoned here for another six days.’
Much later, after the storm of passion had passed a second time, Cassie lay awake listening to the steady rise and fall of Jace’s breathing and blinked back the foolish tears.
She’d nearly blurted out the words. Nearly declared her feelings earlier. But then she’d seen him flinch, almost as if he knew what she was about to say, and she’d managed to hold back, the frigid chill settling in the pit of her belly.
Just because her heart went out to the boy Jace had once been and she was tumbling into love with the man he had managed to become. Just because she had convinced herself that his life could be richer with her in it, and vice versa, she had to remember that Jace had never asked her for a thing.
And until he did, until he gave her some sign that his feelings had deepened too, she’d be mad to tell him how she felt and risk ruining what little time they had left.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘IT’S time for some candy floss,’ Jace announced, gripping Cassie’s gloved hand and hauling her through the milling crowd towards the confectionery stand.
‘No more food, I’m begging you,’ Cassie groaned comically, rubbing her belly. ‘We had hot dogs half an hour ago. And my stomach’s still in revolt after the Big Dipper.’
‘See, I prove my point.’ Jace laughed, stopping at the stand. ‘Women make rubbish dates at funfairs.’
He ordered a large helping of candy floss from the vendor.
‘That is such a load of crap.’ Cassie slapped her hands on her hips in mock outrage as he took a huge bite of the giant helping of spun sugar. ‘I had my brain scrambled on the Twister, took the Helter Skelter at close to sixty miles per hour and nearly swallowed my own tongue on the Power Tower,’ she declared, still shuddering at the memory of plunging a hundred and fifty feet in free fall. ‘And I didn’t make a single complaint.’
He wrapped one arm around her hips, yanked her close and gave her a sugar-coated kiss. His devastating green eyes twinkled with humour. ‘You screamed like a girl in the Haunted House.’
A smile edged her lips, the bud of hope that had been building for days blossoming in her chest at the affection on his face. ‘A severed head flew past my ear,’ she muttered, trying to sound stern. ‘I should get a pass on that.’
He touched his nose to hers, the cold tip sending little shivers of excitement down her spine as the smell of burnt sugar and man engulfed her. ‘You didn’t hear me screaming, did you?’ he murmured, his low voice intimate and amused.
She shoved him back, laughing. ‘You definitely flinched.’
‘A manly flinch is permitted. My ears are still ringing from that scream.’
She cocked her eyebrow. ‘So now who’s complaining?’
Taking her hand, his fingers closed around hers as he chuckled. ‘Not me,’ he said. ‘I guess you make a pretty good funfair date,’ he added magnanimously, swinging their joined hands as they strolled through the thoroughfare of Christmas-themed market stalls at the entrance to the funfair that was set up every year in H
