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He probably thinks I’m a bitch. Maybe I am.
Glenn might have gotten his revolting hands on me for a short time, but I am and will continue to be a strong bitch.
The server shows up in time to give me a few more seconds to examine his finely orchestrated demeanor.
He orders a whiskey, and then his astute eyes return to mine.
What do I say now? “Are you far from here?”
“Half hour,” he huskily replies.
“Oh, where do you live?”
“Ruskin.”
“Is that where your office is as well?”
“Yes. My brothers and I each have a flat in a three-story building behind it. We built it a few years ago.”
“So three of you own the business?”
“Yes,” he says, nodding at the server as she sets his drink in front of him. His view returns to me. My skin flushes. “We have a good crew and contract out for things as needed.”
I stare into his eyes and blink when it gets strangely quiet. “How long have you owned the business?”
“Ten years,” he says, keeping his answers short.
Forget the elephant. There’s a damn ship docked in the room, water pouring out and pooling all over the floor.
“Well…” I place my forearms on the table to run a finger up the stem of the wineglass. “I just want to say—”
“Don’t,” he curtly interrupts.
I glance up, and the gray in his eyes darkens.
Don’t?
He doesn’t want to talk about that night, but I must! He can’t stop me. Hell, I can’t stop myself. “Jane took me to a hotel. She stayed with me through the night. The next morning, she asked where I wanted to go. I picked New Hampshire. I went to college with a girl from there. She made it sound like a good place. I didn’t look her up when I got there. It’s nice but cold,” I pause. Not a single muscle reacts in his stringent body. “I just wanted to tell you I’m okay and thank you for what you did for me that night. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”
His gray, impassive eyes lay heavily on me for a few seconds. I feel the weight of his frustration.
He stands up.
Oh, no!
Not what I was trying to do.
“I’m sorry, Miss Redmon.” He looks down at me with formidable assertion. “This isn’t going to work.”
“No. Wait!” I jump up, rush to him, and grab his arm. Muscles flex beneath my touch. His strength charges through my body.
He glances at my hand. Then to my mouth.
“Please, don’t leave.” I lift my eyes. I can’t lose him now. Not when I just found him.
He’s focused on my lips. My dying to be touched lips. It’s been so long since I’ve touched a man. The last man who touched me was him when he carried me to his car.
I don’t want to let go of him.
