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The door swings open, and I’m instantly gulping back air, taking in every fragment of her. Her hair is piled high, her smooth, olive skin glowing. I don’t care that it’s in anger. Even the lounge pants have me trembling.
She’s not unaffected herself, although clearly trying to be. My eyes drift back up her legs lazily. I feel weak all of a sudden. The strength required to absorb her is almost too much. I could fall to my knees, and I wouldn’t give a shit about what she thought of that.
I release an uneven breath, struggling to maintain any kind of sanity. I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind. “Why did you stop it?”
She balks. She has a fucking nerve. “What?” she spits back impatiently, like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. It makes me madder, my teeth clenching to a point I could crack one of the fuckers.
“Why did you run out on me?”
“Because it was a mistake.” She doesn’t hesitate with firing that gut-punching declaration at me. A mistake? It was fucking amazing. Amazing things can’t be mistakes.
“It wasn’t a mistake, and you know it,” I breathe. “The only mistake was me letting you go.”
Her eyes widen, but no words fall past those full lips, and I know it’s because she has no clue what to say. But then the door starts shutting, her face quickly disappearing from my sight. Oh no. We’re getting somewhere. Her lack of a reply speaks volumes.
My hand flies up and pushes against her, but I’m conscious of my strength and her petite frame. I could break her in half. “Oh, no, you don’t.” I’m in the hallway fast, shutting the door behind me. “You’re not running this time. You’ve done it to me twice already, not again. You’re going to face the music.” I look down at her. I’m failing on every level to talk without sounding like I’m out of breath. And patience. And sanity. She starts backing away. She can’t cope with our closeness. Is she scared she’ll give in to the attraction?Go on, Ava. Give in.I move with her, not letting the distance grow between us.
“You need to leave,” she blurts urgently. “Kate will be home in a minute.’
I stop, my face screwing up in annoyance. “Stop lying,” I warn, pushing her hand away from her hair where her fingers are twiddling wildly. It’s a habit. I’ve worked that much out. A tell. She plays with her hair when she’s lying, and she’s lying through her teeth now. “Quit the bullshit, Ava.”
Throwing me a filthy glare, she turns to walk away from me. “Why are you here?”
I’m quickly in action, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around to face me. She can’t ignore me when I’m forcing her to look at me, to touch me. “You know why.”
“Do I?” Her perfectly arched eyebrow arches higher.
She can’t be serious. “Yes, you do.” She’s not going to make me spell it out, surely? Not again.
My grip is missing her wrist within seconds as she yanks it away and backs up, meeting the wall in just a few steps. “Because you want to hear how loud I’ll scream?”
“No,” I yell incredulously, but I have no right to sound so shocked or annoyed by her question. That was not the sort of line I should’ve delivered to this woman. She’s worthy of so much more. But this is what she does to me. She makes me irrational. Drives me wild.
“You are undeniably the most arrogant arsehole I’ve ever met,” she yells, and I flinch at her harshness. “I’m not interested in becoming a sexual conquest.”
“Conquest?” I snort, swinging away from her and marching up the hallway, digging deep for some control. “What fucking planet are you on, woman?” There’s no control to be found.
“Get out!” she shouts from behind me, and I freeze before turning to find her. She’s fuming. Join the fucking club.
“No,” I bark, continuing with my moody march. Oh my God, I could strangle her.
“I’m not fucking interested.” And then she swears like that, pushing more buttons, and it feels like pins being poked into my skin. “Now, get out.”
“Watch your fucking mouth!”
She recoils, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I might have. “Get out!”
Never. I look at the space between us. There’s too much.
I have a moment of realization.
I’m not close enough to her. Let’s see how fiery she is when I’m up close and personal. Our encounter in my suite was torment—a perfect moment cruelly snatched from me. Let’s remind her of that ecstasy.
“Okay,” I say surely. “Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want to see me again, and I’ll go. You’ll never have to lay eyes on me again.” The very words tighten my gut and have every inch of my hard-muscled frame praying that she gives the right answer. But would it be right, or would it be wrong? I don’t even know.
It seems like an eternity passes, and she still doesn’t speak. She doesn’t say it. She can’t say it, so I move in. Three paces puts me before her, the closeness making my head spin, my heart smashing violently, my breathing accelerating to a stupid rate.
“Say it,” I whisper, sparks of desire firing all over the place. “You can’t, can you?” I place my finger lightly on her shoulder, making her twitch and me smile, and I trace a perfect trail up her taut, smooth flesh until I’m gently pressing the pad of my index finger on the soft void below her ear. Her breath noticeably hitches. Her pulse quickens. Her heartbeats match mine.
