Bryn doesn't reply.
We enter the building, though I don't bother turning on the lights; the countless strands of lights outside illuminate the interior well enough. I take Bryn to my office, letting go of her hand when we enter.
"What exactly are you looking for you so I can help you?" she asks.
Guilt gnaws at me for the ruse, but I push it aside. Fuck it. "I didn't lose anything, Bryn. I just . . . wanted to get you alone."
She parts her lips as she stares at me but doesn't say a word.
Her silence prompts me to go for it.
Finally.
Bryn
"I SHOULDN'T DO this." Matt says, coming right at me, one determined step after another, and I slowly start to back up, fear and excitement bubbling up inside me, making it hard to think clearly.
"Shouldn't do what?" I lift my chin, my gaze meeting his, and I can see all the turbulent, confusing emotions in his eyes, the grim set of his jaw and usually lush mouth. The man means business, what sort of business I'm not exactly sure, but I can take a guess. Increasing my pace, I take hurried backward steps to get away from all that handsome intensity coming at me until my butt meets the wall.
I'm trapped. And in the best possible place too.
In his office, alone with him and in the dark, right back where we started.
"You've been driving me f**king crazy since the minute you arrived tonight," he practically growls, stopping just in front of me.
I have? I want to ask, but I keep my lips clamped tight. I only just got here and besides, he never seems to notice me, not that I really want him to now. Not after the fiasco that went down a few nights ago.
Or at least, that's what I tell myself.
"I don't understand how I could be, considering I just got here," I say, panic flaring within me when his eyes darken.
Do I want this? I try so hard to earn his respect and I let myself end up in these dangerous situations. I'm beyond confused. I want my boss to value me as an employee, but I also want him to see me. Really see me. Not just as the dependable, efficiently organized Miss James who makes his life so much easier.
I want Matt to see me as a woman. A woman he wants.
For one shining moment, he did. It ended disastrously, but here I am, alone with him yet again.
Playing with fire.
The thought floating through my brain is apt, considering the potent heat in Matt's gaze.
"Trust me. You're a distraction I absolutely do not need," he says, his voice low. Sexy.
A tremble moves through me, but I stand my ground. "I've done nothing but work my tail off for you the entire day, so please don't tell me you're suddenly angry with me now," I retort, wincing the moment the words leave me. I blame my mounting frustration over our ridiculous situation. The push and pull is getting old, and I'm not sure I can take it much longer.
I'm tired, I've done nothing but live and breathe this winery reopening for the last few weeks if not months, and I'm ready to go home and crawl into bed when I've only just arrived here. Pull the covers over my head and sleep for a month.
But if a certain someone wanted to join me in my bed, there wouldn't be any sleeping involved-just plenty of nakedness and kissing and hot, delicious sex.
My entire body flushes at the thought.
"And I appreciate you working that pretty tail of yours off for me, Bryn, really I do," he drawls, his gaze dropping low. Like he's actually trying to check out my backside. His flirtatious tone shocks me, rendering me still.
Our relationship isn't like this. Strictly professional is how we've kept it, minus the one incident we haven't really talked about. I can still taste his lips on mine, not that I'd ever bring it up now.
His last remark though was most definitely what I would consider flirting. And the way he's looking at me . . .
Oh. My.
My cheeks warm when he stops directly in front of me. I can feel his body heat, smell his intoxicating scent, and I press my lips together to keep from saying something really stupid.
God, I want you. So bad my entire body aches for your touch.
Yeah. Again I sound like those romance novels. The ones I used to find on my grandma's bedside table when I was young. I always thought those emotions were so exaggerated. No way could that actually occur in real life.
But I'm feeling it. Right now. Again. With Matthew DeLuca. And the way he's looking at me makes me think he's feeling it too.
"So um, h-how have I been driving you crazy?" I swallow hard. I sound like a stuttering idiot, and I'm trying to calm my racing heart but it's no use. We're staring at each other in silence, the only sound is our accelerated breathing, and then he reaches out. Rests his fingers against my cheek. Lets them drift along my face.
Slowly I close my eyes and part my lips, sharp pleasure piercing through me at his intimate touch. I curl my fingers against the wall as if I can grab onto it, afraid I might slide to the ground if I don't get a grip and soon.