Maggie could finally breathe again. The tension in the truck had been palpable and she wondered for the umpteenth time how she would survive a week in a hotel room with him. After only twenty minutes in the close quarters of his truck, she’d been this close to begging him to pull off to the side of the road so she could have her wicked way with him.
She could still feel the shivery vibes coiling in her spine as she recalled him coming to a stoplight, then turning to stare at her.
I want you.
He didn’t have to say the words out loud. She simply knew it—and felt it. His eyes practically burned with intensity.
Goose bumps tickled her arms, heat filled her chest and—she still blushed to think about it—a tingling warmth grew between her thighs as she became aware of what he was thinking.
God help her, but she wanted him, too.
Slowly Connor had begun to grin, as if he could read her mind, damn him.
Then the signal changed to green. He’d turned away from her and stepped on the gas. And the moment was gone.
But he hadn’t stopped grinning like a lunatic.
Maggie’s first impulse had been to jump out of that truck and run as fast and as far as she could go. But she’d talked herself out of that plan, shook off her feelings and pulled herself together. She could handle this!
They had spent the rest of the ride making small talk, chatting about his mom, her grandfather, the goats, anything she could think of to keep herself from dwelling on Connor’s sexy mouth, his dark unfathomable eyes, his impressive shoulders.
And she still thought she could avoid him for a whole week in the intimate confines of a hotel suite? Was she out of her mind? Maybe. But she’d already called the hotel twice to check on available rooms. There was nothing. In fact, there were no rooms anywhere in the area. She was stuck.
But on the other hand, maybe the hotel would have a few cancellations today.
During the ride, she had confessed to Connor, “Once we get to the hotel, I’m going to try one more time to see if there’s another room available.”
“Not ready to give up yet?”
“No,” she said, and felt a twinge of pride. Why should she give up trying to stand on her own two feet?
He glanced at her sideways. “Fine. But you’re doomed for disappointment. I have every intention of sharing the suite with you.”
“But why?”
He shrugged. “I want to keep an eye on you. It’s a big hotel. Anything could happen.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Connor.”
“I know,” he said patiently, as if she might’ve mentioned it once or twice before. Well, maybe she had, but it bore repeating.
She continued. “I just think it’s wrong for us to be…”
“Sharing a bed?” he said, finishing her sentence. “Living in such close proximity? Breathing the same air? What’s the matter, Maggie? Don’t think you can handle it?”
“I can handle it,” she protested.