Page 33 of A Snowbound Scandal

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“Is that so?” Done eating, she sagged on the barstool and folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m not playing with you, Mimi. It’s not my style. I’m letting you know where I stand. If you change your mind about having sex with me, let me know. I’ll have you out of those tight jeans and into my arms before your next breath. Either you’ll give me the opportunity to show you how serious I am about making you feel incredible, or you’ll refuse me until it stops snowing.” He looked to the window where it appeared it would never stop snowing. “Those snowflakes are the sand in our hourglass. Eventually, they’ll stop falling and then our time will be up.”

“I’m aware of what our time being up feels like.” Her expression was not one of hurt, but resolve. It was no surprise that she’d be cautious where he was concerned, a fact he’d overlooked until just this second.

“Guess when I implied you’d been dating some real winners, I didn’t factor in myself, did I?”

Some of the fire swept out of her and her mouth lifted on one side. “That was a long time ago.”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve. You always have. Meanwhile, I keep mine in a cage locked in a vault at the bottom of a dormant volcano.”

That brought forth a closed-mouth smile but he felt pride knowing she was fighting a grin.

“I’m sorry.”

Her smile swept away. “Don’t...”

“I’m sorry I hurt you and put you on a plane to Montana ten years ago. It was all so...”

“Juvenile.”

“No,” he argued, meaning it. “Yes, we were young, but what we had wasn’t meaningless. And it wasn’t juvenile.” He raised an eyebrow. “Pursuing you now isn’t about my being an opportunist or checking off some bizarre sex bucket list. It’s about you. And me. And what we could make of our time together.”

“Scratch an itch?”

“Why not?”

“So, what is this conversation? A negotiation?” She smoothed her hands along the countertop in front of her. “Where’s my contract?”

“It’s an offer. Plain and simple.” He lifted the plate where the last half of a sandwich sat. “More?”

“I couldn’t. Thanks, though.” A gap of silence followed. Chase lifted the sandwich half at the same time Mimi stood and backed away from the island.

“I’m going to turn in.”

“At eight o’clock?”

“Yes.” Her smile was tight. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Sure.”

She grabbed her water bottle and walked away, and every step had him growing more and more confused. Had he completely misjudged her interest? Had he said the wrong thing—the wrong everything? He’d gone into this day sure of his ability to convince her. Especially after she’d hungrily eaten him up with her eyes this morning.

His instincts pushed him to go after her, but he rooted his feet to the ground. Ten years ago, he’d worn her like a second skin day and night. She’d responded to his every touch and kiss by igniting in his arms. Pretending they could pick up where they left off wouldn’t work.

He uncorked a fresh bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. He wasn’t giving up, but it was time to change his strategy. She needed space, but he needed her.

They’d have to meet in the middle.

His eyes went to the snow—falling and filling in the gaps where he’d shoveled the deck this afternoon. He’d take as much time as Mother Nature would give him.

“Keep ’em comin’,” he said to the wintry white sky.


Tags: Jessica Lemmon Billionaire Romance