and she wanted to run towards the safety she knew was there. For a little while she didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. He could help her forget, take her to that happy place away from all of this mess. What was one more mistake when her life was crumbling around her? All she had to do was convince him, and herself, this wasn’t the big deal it had been when they were teenagers.
Suddenly she was tired of being strong, of bearing the weight of Strachmore on her shoulders alone.
‘Stay with me tonight, Nate.’
Nate’s body reacted to the invitation before his brain kicked in and listed all the reasons this was a bad idea. He ignored all parts of him straining to make the decision for him, knowing Violet would regret this in the morning, as he would. For altogether different reasons. This was his chance to exorcise that painful rejection for good, but he knew her well enough to understand what this was really about. Her way of dealing with difficult matters had always been to divert her attention elsewhere, put off tackling the hard stuff for as long as possible. Violet was the Queen of Procrastination and he’d always been the Fool, keeping her entertained and distracting her from the hardships within the castle walls.
Not any more. He’d made certain he was King of his own castle since those days.
‘I think it would be better if I went home.’
She’d let him know he wasn’t good enough for her before and he wasn’t going to be the consolation prize now.
She stood up so she was close enough to invade his personal space and trailed a fingertip down the front of his shirt. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this, about us—’
She didn’t need to say any more. He was already picturing them together in bed, giving into that chemistry he’d never been able to forget.
He took a deep breath to purify his thoughts and make sense of hers. She’d taken an emotional battering today and he’d never take advantage of her when she was so vulnerable. Lord knew he wanted her and it was an ego boost to know it was reciprocated this time but it didn’t change circumstances. Friend or lover? He reminded himself he couldn’t be both and remain sane. He’d breached the professional boundary long ago and only friendship had remained before he’d ended up in no-man’s land—a minefield he had to tiptoe through, full of the sort of explosive situations he’d happily avoided since he was nineteen.
‘We’re both adults, single, with no illusions this would be anything more than sex. I need the distraction.’ It was confirmation of exactly where he stood with her and that wasn’t any place of importance. She might as well have been hiring an escort for the evening for all the emotional significance she afforded him.
Normally that kind of detachment wasn’t a problem. In fact he welcomed it. It stopped things becoming too messy. However Violet wasn’t a faceless one-night stand. Uncomplicated sex should never involve the woman whose rejection had made you so cynical about relationships in the first place.
‘Unfortunately, sharing a bed is not the modern-day equivalent of hanging out in the boathouse pretending real life isn’t happening around us.’ His heavy dose of honesty transformed Violet’s coquettish eye-fluttering into a wide-eyed, open-mouthed, I’ve-just-been-slapped-in-the-face expression.
He was pretty sure he’d worn that same look once before and he took no satisfaction in being the one to cause it this time.
‘You’re right. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.’
He could see the shame clouding her eyes already. That wasn’t what he wanted either.
‘There’s nothing I’d enjoy more than taking you to bed right now, but I think it would be a mistake. For both of us. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’ He knew she didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t intend falling into that old pattern of being at her beck and call again. He’d invested too much in that before and paid the consequences.
‘You always were the sensible one.’ She gave him a wobbly smile and Nate knew he had to get out of here before the tears really did fall. When she finally did give into the real emotions she was trying to hide from, he knew he’d never be able to leave her.
‘And you always were the impulsive one.’ He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to talk her out of doing something stupid—like running away or sabotaging her father’s dinner parties with laxatives. It was probably the reason she hadn’t confided in him about moving to London. She hadn’t wanted to be talked out of it.
This proposition was most likely a cry for help rather than an unyielding need to have him in her bed, but it didn’t make it any easier to resist.
‘Goodnight, Violet.’
He wondered if she’d ever regretted walking away as much as he did now.
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