“Without a doubt, you’re the most beautiful and frustrating woman I’ve ever—”
“Put me down!” she commanded, her eyes snapping fire, her heart breaking a thousand times over, though she wouldn’t let him know it, not while she had an ounce of pride left. As he removed his hands, she furiously wagged a finger in his face. “I may be a lot of things, Hayden, but I’m not a woman who likes to be manhandled or shoved around or treated like a member of a lesser sex. I’ve spent the past two years standing on my own, making my way in the world, taking care of my boys—and no man, not you or anyone else for that matter, has the right to physically restrain me or tell me what to do in my own house.” So angry she was visibly shaking, she added, “I don’t remember inviting you over, Hayden, so rather than insult me any further, why don’t you just walk out the door?”
His jaw tightened and the muscles in his neck bulged.
“I mean it. You obviously are looking for a way out of this…. Well, you’ve got one. I didn’t seduce you and I didn’t make any promises, either. So there’s no reason for you to think that just because we spent the night together I expect some claim of undying love. I’m not seventeen anymore, Hayden. I’m a full-grown divorced woman with two boys. Believe it or not, I don’t want a husband any more than you want a wife!” She flung her arm wide, taking in the expanse of her small cabin. “This may not look like much to you, but it’s mine. Mine and my boys’, and we’ve done just fine without you all these years. So just because you showed up on my doorstep, took the kids for a boat ride and somehow ended up in my bed, don’t think I expect or want anything more.”
“You’re satisfied with an affair?” he asked, his features granite-hard.
“It’s hardly an affair. An affair indicates that we cared for each other and the truth of the matter is we hardly know each other. I believe in telling it like it is, and it’s history. It was nice, don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed it, but it was only a one-night stand and it’s over.” Her insides were crumbling as she said the words, but she held her head high, intent upon making him believe her. She didn’t want him to think that she did care for him, that she always had. She believed in clean breaks, even if the result was a cracked heart and shattered dreams.
“A one-night stand,” he repeated, his lips barely moving. “A ‘nice’ one-night stand. You ‘enjoyed it.’ Do you hear yourself? What we did didn’t even brush ‘nice.’ It was hot and wild and probably the best sex of my life. But it wasn’t ‘nice.’”
She cringed inwardly, but tilted her chin up. “And we both agree it’s over.”
“No way.” He grabbed her again, and this time he kissed her, his lips clamping over hers, his hands manacling her wrists so that she couldn’t push him away. Her knees threatened to turn to water, her heart pumped, her blood pounded in her temples at the assault of his tongue and mouth, and tears threatened her eyes. She stood stiff as a board, refusing to respond, denying that he had any power over her whatsoever. When he finally lifted his head and released her hands, she reacted swiftly, slapping him so hard that the smack resounded through the room and Hershel, from his position under the table, growled.
“It takes two for a relationship, Hayden, and I’m not going to be a part of something just for the sex. One-night stands and affairs aren’t my style. You’re the first man I’ve slept with in years…the only man I’ve slept with besides my ex-husband. I really don’t believe in hopping into bed without some emotional commitment.”
“There’s that word again.”
“I’m not talking marriage, Hayden,” she said, managing to keep the sound of misery from her voice, though she felt wretched. “I just think two people should know each other, like each other, respect each other, before they take their relationship a step further.”
“But you told me we don’t have a relationship.”
“That’s right, we don’t. What we have is a mistake. I work for you. You’re my boss. But you’re not my lover. At least not any longer.” Her heart was thudding so loudly, she thought he could hear it; her fingers were clenched into fists that ached.
Slowly Hayden turned and walked to the back door. “It doesn’t have to end this way.”
Her heart was shredding into tiny little pieces. “Of course it does.”
“Nadine—”
Knees threatening to crumple, she said, “Look, Hayden, let’s be honest. You’re not staying in Gold Creek forever and I’m not leaving. The most we could have together is a few weeks.” Tears threatened her eyes but she held them at bay. “That’s just not good enough. Not for me.”
His eyes narrowed. “You do want marriage.”
“Maybe,” she had to agree. “Someday. But more than that, I don’t want to be the talk of the town. I have a reputation and children to consider. Goodbye, Hayden.” Her voice nearly caught as she watched him walk out the door. A few seconds later, she sagged against the wall and wondered if she’d made the worst mistake of her life. Last night she hadn’t considered the fact that she could get pregnant, or that he could unwittingly pass a disease to her. She’d been foolish…beyond foolish, but she wouldn’t be again. She was a mother, for crying out loud. She had responsibilities. She couldn’t act so rashly. She couldn’t let passion or lust sweep away all her common sense.
“Never again,” she vowed, and wondered why that horrid thought scraped the bottom of her soul.
* * *
THE HUGE SUMMER house looked like a tomb. Inside, it was cold and dark. Flooding the house with electric light didn’t add an ounce of warmth. Compared to Nadine’s small cabin, filled with the scents of banked fires, meals once cooked, fresh coffee and Nadine’s perfume, this rambling old summer home came up short. Big and beautiful, it was like every other object in his father’s life: ostentatious and frigid.
Her cabin had been cluttered with shoes left on the back porch, jackets hung on pegs near the door, bicycles propped against the garage and afghans tossed carelessly over the arms of the couch and backs of chairs in the small living room. Cozy. Warm. Lived-in. Loved.
There had been life in that small cabin and, of course, there had been Nadine. He remembered her as she’d answered the door, still damp from the bath, her wet hair curling around her face, her robe allowing him a provocative glimpse of her skin.
“Hell,” he ground out. The walls of the house seemed to close in on him. He considered a drink, but it was still hours before noon. Besides, the last time he’d had a drink he’d ended up at Nadine’s house making love to her.
Spoiling for a fight, he whistled to Leo and walked back to his Jeep. He’d forget her by throwing himself into the problem at hand: what to do with the damned mills.
He didn’t want to think what he was going to do with her.
He drove like a demon, hoping that speed would dull his need of her, hoping to shove all thoughts of her from his mind. He would spend a few hours with the books in his father’s old office, then he’d walk through the sheds and talk to some of the employees, get a real feel for this cog in the operation of the chain of sawmills that were spattered around the state as well as in southern Oregon. He planned on visiting each individual operation, and this was as good a time as any. If he timed it right, the trip would take about two weeks, hardly long enough to get Nadine Warne out of his system, but a damned good start.
She’d made it clear how she felt about him, and he wasn’t going to try and change her mind. He’d never forced himself upon a woman and didn’t intend to start now, no matter how much his body wanted her. Shifting down, he took a corner too fast, eased up on the throttle and managed to round the hairpin curve and keep the Jeep in once piece. “You’ve got it bad, Monroe,” he told his reflection in the rearview mirror. He’d never had to chase a woman down and charm her into his bed. More often than not, he was the one who’d been seduced. No woman had seemed worth the trouble and challenge.