"This way."
"Where are we going?" she asked as they climbed the steps.
"Somewhere we can talk," he muttered and tugged her into the nearest guest bedroom.
The instant they were alone inside the room, he shoved her against the closed door and gave in to his desire. Kissing her hard, he unleashed an explosion of lust and need that had made him hard the moment he'd seen her in the drawing room. He delved into her mouth, seeking her tongue, and she met him boldly, her lips just as eager. He caught her wrists and jerked them above her head, pinning them with one hand.
It felt so bloody good to kiss her again. How sweet she tasted, how soft and feminine she felt against his body. God, he'd missed this, and he'd only been without her a few days. Using his other hand, he stroked down her side, cupped her round arse, making her hips buck against his touch.
It had only been two days since they'd parted from his room in Cambridge. Two bloody days that had felt like an eternity without Kat in his arms. He'd wanted to see her before he left for London, but he'd had to leave right away. Fuck, he needed to take her here, right now, against the door.
Panting, he rocked against her, relishing the little sounds of pleasure she made when he used his body to cage hers while they kissed. Each time his lips touched hers, he fell deeper into a trance of pleasure that silenced the world outside their shared breaths. There was never enough; he would always crave her with this wild madness. The American knew just what to do with her pink little tongue to make his cock ache …
I'm going to lose my fucking mind.
Their mouths finally parted, and Tristan rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he relished the control he had over her and the closeness of their bodies. It would be so easy to ravish her right here; she wanted it, too. The little minx was staring up at him with those silver-gray eyes, like polished moonstones gleaming with lust. The shivers racking her body made him all the more hungry to take her right there, but it was too much of a risk with their parents so close. Lord, he hated how clear that one thought was. Their parents were downstairs talking about wedding plans, and he was up here, ready to take his future stepsister to bed. Talk about scandalous. Sure, they weren't blood related, but most people would turn a disapproving eye on this situation.
When he opened his eyes, he saw tears on Kat's cheeks.
Tears?
Confusion jolted though him like an electric shock. He dropped his hand from her wrists, and she lowered her arms, wrapping them around herself.
"Kat, darling, what's the matter?" He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, but she shied away and darted around him. When she put the bed between them, something hard knotted in his stomach. "Kat?"
"Tristan, how long have you known?" she demanded.
"Known what?"
"About our parents. How long have you known they were dating?" Silent accusations glittered in her eyes.
Kat thought he'd kept that from her? His heart kicked against his ribs. He wouldn't lie to her, she had to know that. Tristan was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them.
"I didn't know, I swear to you. Not until you walked in the door, and Mother said your name. I only knew my mother's new fiancé had a daughter. She never mentioned a name. Kat, the odds of this happening … " He gestured around them. "That our parents would get together?" He began to pace, unable to stand still with all the pent-up energy crackling inside him. "Honestly, Kat, I didn't know." He paused, facing her.
Those damnable tears still covered her cheeks. There was nothing worse than watching a woman cry. He couldn't stop it, couldn't undo whatever had hurt her. Moving toward her again, he reached out to cup her shoulders. Kat dodged his grasp.
"Why won't you let me touch you?" That look of hurt in her eyes was killing him, and he couldn't explain why. He needed to hold her.
"Tristan, our parents are engaged. Don't you get it? We can't be together. If my dad ever found us like this, he'd freak out. This has to stop."
Stop? He couldn't let her go. There was no chance of that.
"No, I-"
"I mean it, Tristan. I won't jeopardize my father's happiness. Not for good sex."
"Great sex," he corrected.
Her little smile in response was melancholy. "Great sex. It's not going to happen again. Do you understand?" Her cheeks flushed, and her chin lifted in a show of strength. It was one of the things he loved about her, how strong she was, but he didn't want her strong now, not when she was resisting what lay between them.
"I can handle your father, Kat," he promised. "They would never have to know we're together." If Kat wanted to be with him, he would find a way to keep it a secret from their parents.
She drew in a fortifying breath and pulled her hair back from her face as she exhaled.
"It will only end badly. No matter what happens. They can never know about us, and we can't ever do what we did again. We're going to be brother and sister. Even if it's just stepsiblings, that's still … not okay. People will talk, and I don't want that. Tell me you understand, and that you agree we have to stay away from each other."
No. Every instinct inside him was shouting to deny her request. What they'd shared couldn't be abandoned and couldn't be thrown away just because it was forbidden.
"Kat, I want you. What happened between us, that doesn't happen every day." He took a step toward her, but she held up a hand.
Those tears shimmered like diamonds on her skin. Beautiful and shattering at the same time.
"Please, just go. I need some time alone."
Alone? How was she going to be alone at a time like this? They were all trapped in the same house for three weeks. He didn't want to leave her so she could cry by herself. He knew that was what she was going to do; the pain of her decision to end things between them was all over her face. Just like the last time, when she'd told him to get out of her dorm room.
Tristan weighed the options of trying to kiss her again, or at least hold her, but it didn't seem likely he'd succeed. She'd raised her chin, and her kissable lips were set in a firm line. It would be better if he waited. Gave her time to breathe. Once she'd had time to cool off, he'd be able to reason with her. He didn't like the idea of patience, but he sensed that if he pressed her now he might lose her. And he couldn't lose her, not again.
"Very well," he said, backing away. But it was a long moment before he was able to compose himself. He paused after opening the door. "Please don't push me away, Kat."
She didn't look at him. That hit him like a punch to the gut. Stepping outside, he closed her door and leaned back against it. Tristan tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.
"Tristan." A masculine voice jerked him from his thoughts.
Kat's father was standing there, hands in his pockets, watching him, his gaze penetrating. He was a man, Tristan thought, who would easily figure out if his daughter was being seduced by his future stepson.
If Tristan wanted to get Kat beneath him on a bed he'd have to be very stealthy.
"Mr. Roberts." He nodded in greeting.
"Is my daughter all right?" Clayton asked, his brows knitted together. He walked up to Tristan, and Tristan had a distinct impression the other man was measuring him up, while trying not to make his observations too overt. Just as Tristan was doing.
"She's a bit overwhelmed, I believe." Not a lie exactly.
Clayton Roberts cleared his throat and shuffled his shoes on the carpet. "Ahh, I knew this would be a shock to her and I should've waited for all of this, given her more time, but … " He paused and raised his head. "I love your mother very much and didn't want to wait."
The man was open and honest, and Tristan couldn't hate him for that. His mother had lived a hellish existence while married to his father. She deserved a good man, one who would love her the way his father had failed to.
"Then you'd better take good care of her." It wasn't a threat, but he'd be happy to make it one if Clayton didn't.
The American simply laughed. Did they always act so odd about such serious things? Kat certainly did.
"I will," Clayton promised. "It's not every day a man is given a second chance at happiness."
"Good." Tristan didn't really know what to say. He felt awkward talking to this stranger who would become his stepfather. He was used to being in a position of power around other men, but this wasn't a situation he could have prepared for.