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“I’m glad you’re here.”
Her mouth drooped in disappointment and he cursed, grabbing her hand to anchor himself, his thoughts.
“That didn’t come out right. Guess I’m so blown away by you being here I can’t think straight let alone put into words what I’m feeling.”
“Then let me.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips over his, a gentle, sensual kiss that had heat searing his body from head to foot and scorching the bits in between.
He needed little encouragement to deepen the kiss and as she grabbed at the front of his shirt, bunching it in her fists and dragging him closer, he lost it, crushing her close, tasting her, caressing her, unable to get enough. Never enough.
The sound of a discreet little cough penetrated his lust-hazed mind and he pulled back reluctantly, raising his gaze to meet the hostess’s rather bland one, like she’d seen it all before.
“Champagne?”
Beth laughed, a joyous sound that made his heart sing, not in the least embarrassed as she reached across him. “Love one, thanks. Professor?”
“Thank you,” he said, noting the curiosity in the hostess’s eyes as her gaze flicked between them, probably wondering if he was a professor whisking a student off for some loving in South America.
“She thinks we’re having an affair.” Beth smirked at him from behind her flute, her green eyes sparkling.
“Well, she’s mistaken. We’re in a relationship.”
“Yes, we are.”
She held his gaze and he sighed in relief. Whatever funk she’d got into over the two of them being involved, she was over it, thank goodness.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, she said, “I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
He brushed his knuckles along her cheek, loving it when she rested against him for a moment before straightening.
“Actually, I do. You’ve been incredibly patient and I’ve behaved like a brat. I want us to start afresh and to do that you have to know what you’re getting into with me, okay?”
“Okay, shoot.”
Draining the rest of her champagne, she placed the flute on the console rest before laying a reassuring hand on his leg. “I’ve never been involved in a relationship before.”
“Ever?”
She shook her head, strawberry blonde hair cascading around her shoulders like the finest gold shot with threads of ruby. “It’s all a bit Freudian, actually. My parents had the perfect relationship. You know, the real soul-mate thing and as a kid I wanted something exactly like it, but that all changed when Mom died.”
“Why?” He laid his hand on top of hers, hoping his soothing touch was all the incentive she needed to keep going no matter how painful.
“She was the love of my dad’s life. He shut down emotionally when he lost her. Sure, he provided for me and Lana, but that was about it. For me, it felt like I grew up without both my parents, that’s how withdrawn he was.”
“I’m sorry.”
Beth raised her gaze from where she’d been focused on their joined hands, admiring the strength in Aidan’s and how perfect hers fit in it.
“I am too. Everything I’ve done since he died, how I’ve lived my life, the choices I’ve made, were all shaped by him. Or not wanting to be like him, to be precise.”
“But you’re nothing like your dad. You’re bright and bubbly and live life on full throttle.”
“Yeah, but somehow the ‘life’s short, play hard’ motto didn’t work when I met you.”
“Why?”
He frowned and she reached up to smooth it away. “Because I was terrified of how you made me feel, of how I would feel if I fell for you and lost you.”
