Taming the Lone Wolff(35)
“Starting something with you is all I can think about.”
Oh, God. Her cheeks flamed. “Don’t you see? Even talking about sex is foreign to me. You’re gorgeous and charming and I’m sure you have a little black book with names under every letter of the alphabet. I can’t compete with that. Please forget we ever kissed.”
“I can’t.” He said it simply, but with emphasis. “The kind of sexual tension and arousal that sparks every time we’re in the same room together isn’t some random occurrence. It’s real. And powerful. I need to walk away. But I can’t. At least not yet. You’re stuck with me this weekend, Winnie. ’Cause you’re to blame for the mess I’ve made of my famous rules for living. Sooner or later, you’re going to be beneath me on soft sheets screaming my name when I make love to you until we both pass out.”
She stared at him openmouthed. The picture he painted made her yearn for something she would never have, even if she gave in and agreed to be his lover. When the two of them became intimate…and she was ruefully aware that the timing was probably when and not if…Larkin would become her whole world. Even if she told herself she could be Bad Winnie and fool around with him just for kicks, the truth was, she would probably fall in love and he would break her heart. Because as he had made perfectly clear on more than one occasion, he was not a marrying man.
She wanted someone who loved her desperately. Many of the women in her care lied to themselves repeatedly, telling themselves that their men could change. If Winnie let herself believe in a future with Larkin, she would be making the same foolish mistake.
It was one thing to decide to enjoy a momentary liaison. And maybe she would if she had the courage. But to expect anything more would be akin to asking the moon to warm her like the sun. Larkin, though he might take her to the stars with his lovemaking, was no warmer than the moon. He was wonderful to look at, but like that silvery orb in the midnight sky, remote and impossible to reach when it came to true intimacy.
“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree,” she said primly, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
Eight
Larkin had never been in such a position. Only Winnie’s inexperience kept the situation from being worse. He was a wreck. Sheer determination kept him upright, but he was perilously close to seducing her despite her objections.
Hot arousal pounded through his veins. His sex was swollen, and Winnie had no clue how desperate he really was. That fact alone was enough to make him put on the brakes in consternation. How could this quirky, artless female reduce him to such a state?
Larkin Wolff was one cool customer when it came to women. He never let his lust lead him down the garden path. Sex was great. And he wanted it. Often. But not enough to let any woman convince him he needed to be housebroken. Commitment to a woman meant personal responsibility, and he’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. Devlyn and Annalise were happy. Despite the fact that he had failed them repeatedly. Only his mother’s untimely death had saved them all. So how could he contemplate making the sweet, generous, heartbreakingly vulnerable Winnie part of his life?
She wasn’t the kind of woman to settle for meaningless sex. And if he couldn’t promise her forever, what else did he have to offer? It was possible, given Winnie’s physical reactions, that she might be okay with temporary if he gave her time to get used to the idea. He had promised to take her to bed. In spite of his better judgment, he was not going to be able to resist doing just that.
He studied her broodingly as he poured himself another cup of coffee and tried to pretend that she hadn’t just rocked his world. She was dressed to play the part of an heiress today. Expensive but understated clothing…her long untamed locks forced into a socially acceptable style.