He pulled onto the street and rested his hand on her knee. “Everything all right?”
She opened her eyes and turned her head. He looked at her as if he was her goddamn concerned boyfriend. The weight in her chest got a little heavier, making it hard to speak.
Connor—her boyfriend. She didn’t even know if that was on the table, yet the idea caused the sweetest and most painful ache. “I need to stop somewhere on the way home.”
“Sure.”
She gave him the directions and stared out the window at the city rushing by. She’d been so incredibly stupid and naïve to think the betrayal she’d suffered in her last relationship had made her impenetrable. That she’d somehow be able to separate the intimacy of the body and the heart.
Her emotions were already opening up to him, softening to him. And they hadn’t even had sex yet.
He stroked his fingers over the skin on the inside of her knee. She tried not to focus on his touch, tried not to want his caresses to inch up higher, to want him intimately again. She had no idea what he wanted from her. There’d be no letting Connor inside her—without letting him inside her. She’d only had one lover, Simon, and as much as she’d hoped to evolve to the point she could take pleasure where and when she needed it without getting emotionally involved, apparently she was still nothing more than the wide-eyed romantic she’d been years before.
Wide-eyed romantics got their hearts crushed to pieces.
She glanced at Connor. Already she wanted to crawl across the seat and plant her lips all over his skin. She couldn’t continue with him without ending up wanting more.
Disastrous…
He squeezed her knee. “I hope you’re not worrying about that fucker still being out there?”
Charlize shrugged. Yeah she didn’t like it, wanted Gregory caught but that twerp could never get past Connor. No way… She was safe with him.
“I know the cops on the case, they’ll get him, don’t you worry. I won’t be letting you out of my sight, baby.”
Charlize closed her eyes and rested her head on the window. And therein lay the disaster. She couldn’t go back to that. Go back to a relationship where a man kept tabs on her, where she was expected to fit into someone else’s box. The kind of man Connor was—hell, she’d need to be barefoot, baking cookies for him between blowjobs to keep him happy.
She wouldn’t give up her ambitions for a man, she wouldn’t give up herself, wouldn’t give up one more freaking thing…
Yet somehow during the last hour she’d gone from “kitten” to “baby”. His baby—she had no idea what that meant to him. The car pulled up on the curb next to a row of luxurious, connected townhouses.
“Is this it?”
Charlize glanced at the familiar buildings. “Yeah.” She undid her seatbelt and curled her fingers around the door handle. “Look, Connor, I need you to wait here for a while. I won’t be long, maybe half an hour.”
Connor leaned across her, holding the door closed. “You better say you’re joking right now. Did you not hear what I said?”
She ignored the warning in his tone. He needed to see he wouldn’t be calling all the shots. “It’s a secure building. No one can get in. You can keep watch out here.”
“Like hell I will.” He leaned back, his expression hardening.
She could totally see him in his cop days. He would have been the “bad” cop.
“It’s called privacy. I believe I’m entitled to have some.”
His mouth curled sardonically. “Sorry, baby, not while I’m around. You’re not keeping anything from me.”
“What if you won’t like what you see?” Charlize met his gaze.
Connor moved his hand to her knee. “If you’re saying you’re going to see another man, tell me right now.” In the dark of the car his blue eyes looked black.
What would he do if she was? He looked as if he’d kill the other guy but what brought on his stern expression? Possessiveness or did he really care about her?
She wouldn’t mess with him just to find out.
“No, Connor. It’s not like that. It’s my father’s apartment.” She swallowed and leaned back into her seat. “He doesn’t know what happened. I can’t let him know and I can’t explain you.”
Connor didn’t move but the hand on her knee softened. “Then tell him I’m your man. That will do.”
Her man.
It sounded far too good and if she did say those words, she might just believe they were true.
“I’d rather not explain you at all.”
“Not an option.”