Not the Marrying Kind(56)

She stopped. Paled. Bit her lower lip. “Hey.”

The vulnerability of a moment ago disappeared as she marched toward him, her expression hardening with every step. “You’re wasting your time. And mine.” She pointed to a stack of paperwork on a minimalist desk. “I’ve got work to do.”

“This won’t take long.” He broached the distance between them in three short strides, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her.

Correction: ravaged her.

He plundered her mouth, desperate to taste her. It wasn’t enough. He wanted all of her, naked, warm, and willing, but for now this would suffice.

Her momentary resistance shattered on a groan as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. Soft, warm curves beneath his hands. Firm, demanding lips beneath his. She was fire and sass and he couldn’t get enough.

His Poppy.

He backed her up a little and when her butt hit the desk her leg snaked around his waist, bringing him in tantalizing contact to where he craved to be. Blood thundered in his ears, drowning out all rational thought. He had to have her. Now.

Then she shifted a fraction, breaking off the kiss to gulp in air, and a few seconds was all it took for reality to set in.

This wouldn’t win him back his wife.

He eased away and dragged a hand through his hair, perturbed by the power she had over him. She took turned on to a whole new level.

“We need to talk.”

“That old line?” Her mouth made a cute scoff. “Surely you can come up with better material than that to end our marriage.”

“I don’t want to end it.”

That shocked her into momentary silence, before her mask of deliberate distance slid into place. “Too bad, because I do.”

“Bull.”

She crowded him and he took a step back, needing distance to marshal his thoughts.

“Take away the stupid deal we made and we’re good together. You know it. I know it.”

A spark of acknowledgment lit her eyes before she deliberately blinked. “That’s just sex. Don’t let it cloud your judgment.”

“Stop doing that. Belittling what we have.”

“Had,” she corrected, her stare defiant. “This was wrong from the beginning.” She waved her hand between them. “You and me? A high-stakes gamble that failed, so let’s cut our losses and run.”

“You think you can get rid of me that easily?”

“Yeah, it’s what you do best, isn’t it? Run from your past?”

A cheap shot and one she regretted by her blush. Not that he could blame her for saying it. He had run. Not anymore.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He held his hands out to her, palms up, no tricks up his sleeves. “Not running away, not hiding behind excuses. I’m here because I love you and want to make things right between us.”

Her eyes widened at the L-word and her lower lip wobbled a tad before she clamped it tight and shook her head. “Just go.”

Seriously rattled by her resolute stubbornness to not entertain the thought of reconciliation, he slid his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out the folded document he hoped would convince her how he felt.

She glanced at it, curiosity raising one eyebrow, before she eyeballed him. “What do you want me to say? That I acted like a crazy person that night at the party? Fine. I did. And I’m sorry. But you showing up here and saying you love me doesn’t change facts.”

“Why not?”

“Because…because…” She ended on a half-sob, half-hiccup, before swallowing. “Because I don’t trust you.”

“Don’t or can’t?” It killed him, having her doubt him. He tipped up her chin with a fingertip so she had to look at him. “There’s a big difference.”

She swatted him away. “Stop confusing me.”

“Confusion is good.” He felt the first stirrings of hope. If she was unraveling before his eyes, it meant she did care a hell of a lot more than she was letting on. “Confusion means you’re as perplexed as I am over the speed and intensity with which we fell in love.”

“Stop saying that.”

Unable to resist, he ducked down and murmured in her ear, “Love, love, love. I. Love. You.”

“Damn you.” She pummeled his chest and tried to shove him away, but he captured her hands and tugged her close, enveloping her into his arms in a crushing hug that left them both breathless.

He let her cry, battling the monstrous lump of emotion wedged in his throat. He smoothed her back, her hair, whispered soft endearments until her sobs petered out. Only then did he ease back, his heart stalling at the utter bleakness in her eyes.

“I’m not a good relationship person,” she murmured, clutching at his jacket lapels like she’d never let go.