body was heavy and warm as it pressed against her and she shifted the tiniest bit. Blake groaned into her mouth and a surge of feminine power raced through her veins.
She and Blake could take this inside. It would take very little convincing to move this to a warmer location with fewer clothes.
And it would be spectacular. She knew that instinctively.
Everywhere he was touching her now—even through clothing—felt like it was on fire. Blake would be gentle and thorough and intense. The blaze of desire flared inside her. All it would take was the right word.
The right word and he could be hers.
But was that really what she wanted? For the next hour, yes. Absolutely. His lips touched her neck and she struggled to breathe. But what about after that?
It always came back to the same thing. She stilled beneath him and he lifted his head. He was so beautiful, she realized, scar or not. It was more than that. It was how the man inside shone through his eyes and the set of his jaw. She blinked against the moisture that gathered in the corners of her eyes. She cared too much. It wasn’t love—it couldn’t be and she knew that. But there was a connection between the two of them—perhaps there had been from the moment he’d offered her his hand when she’d fallen on the ice. He’d broken through the wall she normally kept around her heart like it had never even been there.
And she hadn’t seen him coming.
His gaze deepened and he kissed each eyelid with such tenderness she thought she might fall apart right there in his arms.
“What is it?” he murmured the words in the silence. “Tell me, Hope.”
How could she explain it without making herself even more vulnerable? “I can’t do this,” she whispered.
His eyes smiled down at her. “We can move it inside. I’m pretty sure Anna’s gone home by now.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she began.
The gaze that had been gently teasing before now sharpened hungrily. “I want to be with you,” he answered. “Really be with you. Even if it’s just this one time. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Oh, glory. If only he knew how much she wanted to say yes. He wasn’t making it any easier. But then nothing was easy with Blake.
In the end, her need for self-preservation won out.
“It would be a mistake. We’d both regret it, Blake.” She bit down on her lip, because even as she said it she was thinking about kissing him again.
Her legs and bottom were getting numb from the cold snow, she realized. She should get up and walk away. But she couldn’t make herself push him away. Not yet.
“Why?” he asked. He shifted one leg so it rubbed up against hers. “We’ve got means, motive and definitely opportunity.”
Why did he have to be so charming?
He brushed his lips over the crest of her cheek, his breath warm as it slid over her skin.
“We’re both grown-ups,” he continued, sprinkling kisses over her face, little flecks of heat in contrast to the chill. “Both consenting adults. With a house to ourselves.” He added the last with special significance.
All good reasons on the “for” side.
But it really only took one good “against” to throw a kink into the works.
“I can’t be casual about this,” she answered, wishing for the first time ever that she could be more free and easy about things rather than take everything to heart. “I’m leaving, remember?”
“You don’t exactly let me forget it.”
“Blake, I don’t bounce back easily.” She put her hands on either side of his face and forced his head around so that she could look him square in the face. She knew she guarded herself closely, and as a result she could often seem like she didn’t care, but the truth was she often cared too much. “If we do this it’ll make leaving even worse, don’t you see?”
“Because you have feelings?”
“Because I can’t do this without feelings.”
She gulped, wondering what he’d think if he knew how much it had cost her to be that honest. Wondered what he’d think if he understood exactly how inexperienced she was and that she didn’t take sex lightly. There’d been one time at the end of high school, which had been a horrible, horrible mistake, and twice more—both in her twenties, both relationships that hadn’t panned out. Instead they’d fizzled out before they’d ever had the chance to get serious.
His gaze cooled. “That’s clear enough, then.”
She suddenly realized that he’d misunderstood. She’d meant that she wasn’t a woman who could be casual about sleeping with someone. It had always been more than physical gratification to her. She’d meant—God help her—that her feelings were already involved. But he’d taken it literally—presuming that she had no such feelings for him. He was so wrong. He had no idea how completely he held her in the palm of his hand. How close she was to breaking. How much he made her feel about everything.
She wished she could explain, but she couldn’t possibly open up about her real feelings. She didn’t know how to have a holiday romance and still leave with herself intact at the end.
He pushed himself off of her and, just like the first time they’d met, offered his hand to help her up. She took it, feeling a mixture of relief and regret, and definitely unsatisfied in the most primal, physical sense.
“Blake, please understand.” She tipped up her face and on impulse peeled off her glove and put her hand to his cold cheek. “It is going to hurt enough when I have to leave on Sunday. This would only make it hurt more.”
“Why should it hurt?”
And there he was—still pushing her emotionally. He wanted her to say the words and it was unfair. It made her feel naked, with no defenses.
“Don’t make me say it, okay?” There was a lump in her throat. “Isn’t it enough that I’ve said this much?”
The air between them hummed with the words she hadn’t said but they both knew.
“You can’t keep kissing me like this. We need to keep it businesslike from now on.” She didn’t dare tell him that it was a very real possibility that he would wear her down. A girl could only hold out for so long—especially when a giant part of her wanted to give in.
“Businesslike?”
She nodded. “If you care about me at all, please do as I ask,” she said, hoping to appeal to his sense of honor.
His brow wrinkled and he reluctantly gave in. “All right,” he replied. “No more kissing in the snowbanks.”
“Or anywhere else,” she cautioned.
“Or anywhere else,” he confirmed.
“Thanks,”
