be with her, thinking of her and not of the lover he’d lost. She wasn’t prepared to be his escape, his emotional aspirin, a distraction from the pain. She’d be his friend, but if he made love to her then it would be because he wanted her.
While she was prepared to be a fake wife, she refused to be a second choice or a substitute lover. Maybe if she knew why he was so suddenly single she would have a better idea of how emotionally battered he really was. And the only way to get that information was to ask.
‘Why did your engagement blow up?’
Finn glared at her. ‘You are like a dog with a freakin’ bone. Do you ever give up?’
Innate honesty compelled her to speak. ‘No.’
Callie stared at him with big eyes as he stood up, walked around the table and gripped the arms of her chair, caging her in. Callie sucked in air and along with it the masculine, indefinable essence of Finn. A kick of spice, a hint of citrus, a tiny bit of natural musk. The hair on her arms and on the back of her neck stood up and she felt her skin prickle as his eyes locked on hers.
‘Are you always this stubborn?’
Callie shook her head. ‘Sorry to tell you that I haven’t even hit stubborn yet.’
‘Crap. Well, let’s see if a little distraction will work,’ Finn replied, his voice silky. ‘And if my kisses don’t distract you at least they’ll get you to shut the hell up …’
Callie sucked in her breath as his mouth brushed her lips. Harder, thinner, masculine lips that knew exactly what they were doing as he nipped and teased her mouth. His hand came up to clasp the side of her head and he tipped her face sideways. Then his kiss deepened and his mouth became more insistent, asking—no, demanding—more.
‘Kiss me, Callie. Open up and let me taste you,’ he muttered against her lips.
Callie couldn’t do anything but obey—didn’t have the thought processes to do anything but follow where he led.
Instead of plunging inside, forcing its way in, his smart tongue explored her bottom lip, teased the corners of her mouth, deliberately avoided tangling with hers.
Frustrated with his teasing, Callie pushed against his chest and, keeping her mouth locked on his, found her way to her feet, looping her arms around his back and pushing into his hard frame. Breast against chest, stomach against his steel erection, mouth under his. Needing more, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his and taking the kiss from hot to steamy to erotic, from wild to crazy.
His hands raced down her back, palmed her butt and lifted her up and into him. Her legs automatically wound around him and she tipped her hips so that his erection could rub her clit as his kisses—God, was it possible?—got deeper and steamier.
She wanted more … she needed more … This was just sex, lust! Six months was far too damn long, Callie realised from a place way, way outside of herself. She needed him—Finn—now.
Her hands were sliding down the back of his shorts, trying to feel that magnificent ass she’d been fantasising about, when Finn pulled his mouth off hers. He lifted his hand from the inside of her bra and one arm kept her anchored in place. He brushed her hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ears. He looked rueful.
Callie felt her feet touch the floor and she held on to his arm to make sure that she wouldn’t topple over.
‘Ah … um … what was that?’
‘God knows. But, after that I guess sex is closer to being on the table than before.’
Finn stepped away from her, seemingly unconcerned that he still had a steel pipe in his pants.
His words dumped a figurative bucket of cold water over her head. What was it about him? He just had to touch her and she was under his spell, ready to go where he led. She never lost control in a sexual situation—her head was always in the game.
‘That’s why I’m wary,’ Callie admitted eventually, unable to stop licking her bottom lip, hoping the taste of him lingered there.
Finn’s black brows pulled together. ‘Sorry—lost you. What?’
‘We have a hectic attraction. It could blow up in our faces,’ Callie explained. ‘It could burn hot and die fast, and if that happens while we’re on holiday then we’d be up the creek without a paddle.’
Finn jammed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. ‘We’ll be together for three weeks. Do you normally lose interest that quickly?’
Sometimes, Callie wanted to admit. But with him she was more worried about feeling something deeper than basic lust than finding herself bored. Bored, she could fake her way through, but he intrigued her; he was a puzzle she longed to solve and that rarely … okay, never happened to her. And if she was this attracted to him—physically and mentally—so soon, then spending twenty-four-seven with him might make her feel so much more.
Dangerous.
Callie stepped away and held up her palms. Okay, get a grip and shut this down before it goes any further. Get you head in the game, Hollis. Someone has to be sensible here and it looks like you’ve drawn the short straw.
‘Finn, I get that you’re hurting, that you need a distraction from your crappy life. You’ve just broken up with your fiancée and that’s got to be seriously painful.’
And I’m using you to escape dealing with my mother.
Finn just folded his arms and kept his face blank.
‘You should know that I never treat sex casually, that I am very selective about who I bring into my bed.’
‘Okay. Good to know.’
Callie blew out her breath. ‘And you should also know that I’m not going to be your means of escaping that pain.’ And, conversely, I’m not going to use you to escape my memories.
Finn frowned. ‘Lost you. Explain.’
She waved her hand in the space between them. ‘We obviously generate some heat between us, and I have no doubt that sleeping with you would be fun, but we can’t ignore the fact that until recently you were in a highly committed relationship. That relationship came to a skidding halt and pretty much went over a cliff. Fair to say that?’
Finn shrugged. ‘I suppose.’
‘So, to carry on with that analogy, I’m not going to sleep with you until I am fully convinced that you have come out of that coma and are mostly recovered. I’m not a way to dull the pain.’
Finn stared at her for a long time, his green eyes speculative. Eventually, ever so slightly, his mouth lifted at the corners. ‘This isn’t all about me and my relationship, is it? You’re also running from something—or someone.’
Maybe. Possibly. Okay, dammit, yes.
‘And that’s why you’ve been crying.’ Finn rubbed his jaw with the palm of his hand. After a long silence he lifted his muscled shoulders in a weary shrug. ‘Look, Callie, I’m probably not ever going
