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“Then maybe we’d better stop acting like them!”
His eyes blazed. “All right. Let’s start again—more mature this time. I want you to stay with me, Cassie,” he said, his gaze piercing hers with an intensity so powerful, she couldn’t look away. “Stay here. In my bed. Spend the night with me.”
Oh, God. The temptation was almost too much. Alone with Colton—for an entire night! “Sorry,” she replied, hoping to sound sophisticated, though her voice was strangled. “I’m not into one-night stands . . . Ooh!”
As quickly as a cat, Colton shoved her back onto the ground, pinning her shoulders against the earth. “I wouldn’t call eight years a one-night stand.”
“Eight years?” she repeated. “Eight years? When were we together in the past eight years? And where were you? Who were you with?”
Some of the anger disappeared from his eyes. “There weren’t many, Cass,” he admitted with a sigh. “And none of them held a candle to you.”
Her throat burned, and she wanted to believe him. Oh, God, how she wanted to believe him.
The fingers forcing her down became gentler. “What about you?” he asked quietly.
“You want to know about my lovers? All of them?” she asked, and was surprised at the pain in his eyes.
“No—that’s your business, I suppose.”
“Well, there were none. Not in college and not here,” she admitted, suddenly wanting him to know, to understand just how important he’d been.
“None?” he hurled back at her, disbelieving.
“Nada.”
“Oh, Cass,” he whispered, releasing her. “No wonder your father hates me.”
“He doesn’t—”
“Of course he does.” Standing, he dusted off his hands, then offered one to her.
She took his hand, and he pulled her up but didn’t let go of her fingers. “You know,” he admitted. “I’ve always cared about you. Always.”
The lump in her throat swelled, and she could barely get out her reply. “S-so you said.”
He kissed her forehead so tenderly she nearly broke apart inside. “Please,” he whispered, “stay.”
“Not tonight.” Pulling her hand away, she shook her head. “Not yet. Before I sleep with you, Colton, I want to think things through.”
“That sounds a little cold and calculating.”
“No. It sounds smart.” Placing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself to her toes and kissed him on his forehead. “Last time I thought with my heart, this time I’ll use my head.”
Before she could draw away, his arms circled her waist. “Tell me,” he asked, “just how much does your father hate me and Denver?”
“Denver I’m not sure about, but he detests you.”
Colton was silent, his expression unreadable.
“That isn’t a surprise, is it?”
“No.” He lifted a shoulder as if he didn’t care, but Cassie felt there was something he was holding back—something he wasn’t telling her as he released her.
He walked her back to her pickup, but he didn’t say another word. And as she drove away, she saw him standing in the moonlight, his shoulders rigid, his back ramrod straight, his fists planted on his hips.
Chapter Ten
“Confounded things!” Ivan yanked on his boots, grimacing until his foot slid inside. Seated near the wood stove, he glared up at Cassie. “You got in late last night.”
