"Stop this, Maddie. Stop toying with my feelings." He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake but she still stared wide-eyed at him like a kangaroo caught in headlights. "Maddie! Why are you doing this to me?" His voice sounded too raspy and he let go of her and turned away.
"Are you," she said in a small voice, "are you saying you still..."
"Want you?" He laughed. He wanted her more than any woman he'd ever known, more than he wanted his next breath. "Yeah." He turned around because this sort of thing could only be said face to face, no matter what her expression would reveal. "I want you, Maddie. I can't be without you. But if it's Pheramour making me feel this way..."
She shook her head. "No, it's not working."
Well. Huh. Just like that. So...
So this was real? This was what love really felt like. Like being sick or falling out of a plane without a parachute, like being hit by a bus or drowning. But it also felt like having a Royal Flush, like floating in the clouds or lying on warm sand under a Mediterranean sun. It felt totally, incredibly amazing. He smiled at her, but it vanished when she stared back at him with terror.
"It never worked," she squeaked. She cleared her throat and looked away. "I lost my job because I took a stand, and it never worked anyway, so it doesn't matter now."
"I'm sorry," he said. "About your job. Are you okay?"
She nodded but her face was shadowed so he couldn't see her eyes. He doubted it was okay. Maddie loved her job. It was her life, her future, her rock. And now she didn't have it and everything would fall to pieces because her plan was heading off the rails. Oh hell. That must be why she couldn't sleep.
Poor Maddie. He reached for her, hesitated, then touched her shoulder. She stiffened. Great. She didn't want comforting. Or she didn't want comforting by him. It looked like he'd have his work cut out for him convincing her otherwise.
Maddie wanted to feel more than just Sam's fingers touching her. She wanted to sink into his arms, feel him inside her again. But she was so confused. He was responding to her, not Pheramour.
It had never been Pheramour.
Blood pounded between her ears and when Sam moved closer, the room spun out of control and she wondered if she was fainting. She turned away so he couldn't see her face. He didn't have to. He leaned into her, propping her up, his chest against her back, his breath in her hair.
"Maddie," he whispered, "you know what this means?"
She knew and yet she didn't know. "You like me," she tried, "but you don't want to."
She heard his breath catch, felt his heartbeat lose its steady rhythm. "Why do you say that?"
She turned to face him and found his mouth near hers. He brushed an oh-so gentle kiss across her lips and for a moment she forgot what she was going to say.
"I want you," he murmured against her. "Don't fight it."
But she had to. She needed answers, clear, concise answers. She tried to pull away but he held her in his arms and he was too strong and she didn't really want to leave the solidness. Not yet.
"We're not compatible," she said. "You said it yourself. I'm a nerd."
"That was years ago," he growled, shaking his head. "Can't you forget about it?"
"How can I? It's who I am. It's what I've always been. You were right. I am a nerd."
"Maddie, I don't remember calling you that. Maybe you were mistaken—"
"I'm not! It was fifteen years ago. You and Pete were over at our place and you were supposed to be studying the table of elements. None of you could remember them so Linda asked me how I did it. I used a little jingle and I sang it to you." Her face heated at the memory. She was an atrocious singer. "But you laughed and that's when you called me a nerd."
Sam let go of her and stared down at his shoes. "Oh. Yeah. I remember that now." Then suddenly he chuckled and looked up again. His eyes danced and his mouth spread into a wide, boyish grin. He was so handsome, almost too handsome, and it hurt to look at him.
It just hurt.
"I'm glad you find it so funny," she snapped, wondering if she should slap him across the face or knee him in the groin.
He descended so fast she didn’t get a chance to do either. Didn't see the kiss coming. But when it did, it blew her away and she forgot everything. Tenderly, his lips caressed hers, tasting, teasing. She dug her fingers into the back of his head and held him in place in case he changed his mind and stopped the kiss.
But she was the one who stopped the kiss. Self-will had beaten down desire until it was nothing more than a burning ache low in her belly.
She shoved him away. "So we've established that I'm a nerd," she spat.