She’d wanted him. And that had thrown him. Hard. Because he’d felt the same about her. From the first moment he’d met her, Matt had known that she was going to be different. That she had the ability to cut through his defenses and bring him to his knees. Not a place he was used to finding himself.
Memories raced through his mind, causing sensory overload. He remembered the arguments, the conversations, the incredible tension that had hummed through every moment that they’d spent together.
Mostly, though, he remembered the one night they’d had together. The frenzied need that had fueled their desperate coupling. The out of control desire that had swept away every clear thought.
Even recalling that night had his body going hard as stone and his brain fuzzing over until the only thing it could focus on was her. Nearly nine months away from her in a voluntary absence and she was as fresh in his mind as she had been the morning after their “encounter.”
That’s why he’d left. Why he’d had to go and put half a country between them. Love was not part of his game plan. He was focused on his career and didn’t have the time—or the inclination—to deviate from the plan that had been guiding him since college.
But damn he’d missed her.
She lifted her chin, tossed her hair back from her face and started walking toward him. The crowd seemed to part for her, as if in a series of orchestrated moves. She was damn near electrifying. Her hair, her eyes, the curve of her hips and the way those hips swayed invitingly when she walked.
Hell, everything about her screamed sexy, powerful woman—and that really did it for him in a big way.
The hard tap of her heels against the marble floor sounded out like tiny gunshots, even over the noise of the surrounding crush of people. She never stopped. Never hesitated. Until she came to a stop right in front of him.
Her perfume reached for him, flavoring every breath with the taste of her. He looked down into her eyes, saw them spark and flash and knew he was in deep trouble.
“You’re here for the wedding.”
Her voice was soft and cool with a thread of steel he remembered all too well. “Yeah.”
“Then it’s back to L.A.?”
“It’s where I live now, Kayla.”
She nodded, folded her arms over her chest and glanced around the crowded room before looking back at him. “Evan dragged you here tonight, didn’t he?”
“No,” he lied, and told himself that even if Evan hadn’t insisted he come, he wouldn’t have been able to stay away from her much longer. The pull of her was inexorable and something he was tired of fighting.
“Right, because there’s nothing you like more than a good gallery showing,” Kayla said, her lips curving in a sardonic smile.
Matt chuckled and realized that he’d missed this, too. The verbal sparring, the tension that simmered between them, just beneath the surface.
“You caught me. My secret weakness.” It wasn’t a complete joke. Sure, he wouldn’t normally hang at an art gallery, but watching her with the patrons was something he would pay to see. She was so knowledgeable and her love for the art world shone in her eyes. What man wouldn’t be fascinated by her?
“So, how’s California?”
He cut off his straying thoughts—a man had to concentrate when talking with Kayla. “Crowded.”
“You don’t love all the sunshine and the glamour?”
“Sunshine gets old and I’m too busy working to be interested in the glamour.”
“Uh-huh.” The toe of her shoe tapped against the marble floor. “And what is it you are interested in, Matt?”
“You.”
Three
The single word escaped before he knew it and he saw the shock in her eyes before it was replaced by disbelief. But damn it, he’d said only the truth. She interested him. Enough so that he’d stayed away from Cheyenne rather than face what she could mean to him. Enough that standing here opposite her and not being able to touch her was torturous.
“Don’t,” she muttered. “Just...don’t.”
Great start, he told himself then spoke up quickly. “Look, Kayla, now that I’m in town—”