“Dev!” Sarah said now, rolling her eyes at me. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know you want to.”
She wasn’t helping. And he wasn’t helping, either. Maks was looking back at me like he knew about every one of my fantasies, and wanted nothing more than to make them come true. Which, really, made no sense. For one thing, we’d barely spoken two words to each other. For another, the man was gorgeous. Definitely not the type who would generally look twice at someone like me. Or even once.
I pushed my glasses up higher on the bridge of my nose, swallowing nervously. I was holding my laptop bag in front of me, hoping it hid my raging erection and trying to talk myself out of tossing it aside and crossing the room and climbing all over the man who, beyond all reason, seemed to want me, too.
I didn’t do things like that. I didn’t even normally think things like that. But now, even with Sarah—my wife—sitting right next to Maks, I had to bite my lip to keep from begging him to fuck me.
And he looked like he would do it in a heartbeat, if I asked. That look… God, it was so hot. I started to feel like I was going to lose my inner battle. Luckily, before I gave in and did something embarrassing, little Holly toddled down the hall from the nursery and saved me.
“Up, Dev,” she demanded, one hand rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and the other reaching for me.
This was why I shouldn’t, I reminded myself as I willed my cock to calm down and then scooped up my step-daughter. No, not ‘shouldn’t.’ Couldn’t. I’d promised to take care of Holly and Sarah, and I wouldn’t desert them just because my libido had suddenly gone from zero to sixty.
“I just want to take you to dinner,” he repeated, standing up with a sexy little half-smile dancing over his lips. The words sounding much more innocent than the raging heat in his arctic-blue eyes. God, they actually looked like they were burning.
I shook my head, hiding behind the child in my arms.
“How about going out for coffee, then?” Maks asked, his smile slipping a bit and his eyes glowing hotter.
“I can’t.”
Sarah stood up, too, giving me a disappointed look. She came and took Holly out of my arms, heading toward the kitchen.
“Stop it,” she whispered as she left the room. Left me alone with Maks. “He just wants to get to know you, honey. No one is going to think our marriage is a sham just because you spend an hour in a coffee shop with a hot guy.”
And then she was gone, and Maks was still there, and I felt like I was quite literally going to die if the man didn’t touch me. But I also knew that if that happened, it wouldn’t be enough. I would want more.
I took a step back, letting out a slow breath and tightening my grip on my laptop bag to keep from reaching for him.
“I’m married,” I said, then had to clear my throat.
“Your wife doesn’t mind,” Maks said, crossing the room and standing close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.
Torture.
Maks was looking down at me as if I was everything he’d always wanted. He was looking at me the way that Luke used to look at Sarah, the way I’d never imagined anyone would look at me, least of all a man who made me feel like this.
I shook my head, not trusting the right answer to come out of my mouth if I opened it.
Something like pain flashed across Maks’s face, and he reached out and cupped my cheek. “I need you,” he whispered. “How can you not feel it?”
Oh, God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. I didn’t break promises, I reminded myself, starting to panic. I wasn’t free to say yes, no matter how much I wanted to.
Maks suddenly dropped his hand, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh of pure frustration.
“Shit. I’m scaring you,” he muttered. “I’m not going to… to force myself on you.”
With my cock engorged and my body on fire, the only thing I was scared of was never feeling that touch again… but then I came to my senses. No, that wasn’t the only thing I was afraid of. I was also scared that Maks would make me forget everything that was important to me, would talk me into indulging myself and taking what I wanted—what a part of me insisted I needed—regardless of the consequences to the people I cared about.
“I can’t, Maks,” I said again. “I’m married.”
And he turned away, his whole body radiating a tension that I could literally feel as he walked away from me. It made my stomach hurt. And it made me say something I probably shouldn’t.
“I’m married,” I repeated. And then, softly enough that I could almost convince myself he wouldn’t hear, I added, “for now.”