‘Rico, wait.’
Nope. Not happening. She was probably going to thank him and he didn’t think he could take her gratitude when he wanted something else entirely from her yet shouldn’t and couldn’t have. But apparently she was not to be deterred because his progress back to the house wasn’t as fast as he’d have liked it to be and within seconds she’d caught up with him.
‘Stop,’ she said, panting slightly in a distracting way and planting a hand on his bare forearm, which singed his skin and rooted him to the spot.
‘What is it?’ he snapped, too frayed to even attempt to make a stab at cool, easy-going levity.
‘I have a question. About last night.’
That was worse than any thank-you. ‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ he muttered, shaking her off and resuming his march to the house.
‘I think there is.’
‘In what way?’
‘What would have happened if the garlic hadn’t burned?’
What the hell? ‘What do you think would have happened?’ he said, the memories of their kiss burning through him and having their inevitable effect.
‘I think we wouldn’t have stopped. I think we’d have had sex right there on your kitchen island.’
His pulse began to gallop, the images smashing into his head, desire breaking through the flimsy dam he’d constructed and coursing through him in a great rush of molten heat. He wanted to deny it, but it was impossible. ‘Well, then. There you go. Is that it?’
‘I hope not.’
His brows snapped together and he wheeled round to face her. ‘What do you mean by that?’
She took a deep breath and looked him square in the eye. ‘I want to finish what we started.’
He tensed, fighting with every inch of his control the clamouring urge to grab hold of her and do exactly that. ‘That is not a good idea.’
‘Why not?’
Yes, quite. Why not? ‘It’s complicated,’ he muttered, shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts, any pretence of equanimity long gone.
‘It needn’t be.’
&nb
sp; Nevertheless, it was. For a whole host of reasons. He didn’t know who he was these days. He understood none of the things he’d done recently. And then there was his unwise interest in the woman standing in front of him and his curiosity about all the things they had in common and those they very much did not. His heart banged against his ribcage while his head throbbed with the intensity of the pressure pushing in on him from all sides. ‘I’m injured.’
‘I’d take care.’
But what if he didn’t? What if he let his guard down even more than he already had? What if she somehow tripped him up and before he knew it had him telling her everything? Or worse, wound up wanting more than he could ever give?
‘It would just be one afternoon and one night, Rico,’ she said, as if able to read his mind. ‘My flight is booked for the morning and that’s not going to change. There’s no room in my life for a relationship. Seriously. You’d be perfectly safe from me.’
Safe? Really? He’d never met anyone quite so threatening.
But, Dio, her words rang in his ears like a siren call, tempting him across the calm waters of reason towards the treacherous rocks of hedonistic ecstasy.
One afternoon. One night. Free of strings. Free of complications. Drenched in pleasure. He hadn’t felt this alert, this alive in months. And as for his ability to perform... Pain? What pain? The only ache he had right now was deep in his pelvis. He wanted her as badly as she’d just admitted she wanted him, and really, would it be so bad? How dangerous could she possibly be? He’d never allowed a woman to expect more than what he was able to offer and he wasn’t about to start now. And wouldn’t actually acting on the desire make it lessen, or even obliterate it altogether?
As the reasons for objecting ran out and the last of his resistance crumbled, Rico reached for her, pulled her against him and slammed his mouth down on hers.
* * *
Oh, thank God for that.