Taming the Lone Wolff(67)

                “That’s nice of you to say.”

                “I’m not being nice,” he yelled. “I’m telling the truth. And the sex wasn’t meaningless.”

                A knock sounded at the door. “Everything okay in there? Lunch is ready in ten.” Devlyn’s deep voice was unmistakable.

                “All good,” Larkin replied, clearing his throat. “See you in a minute.”

                Footsteps disappeared down the hall.

                He stared at Winnie. “We’re not done with this,” he said, grinding his teeth at the knowledge that he couldn’t get her alone for hours. Annalise had commandeered anyone without kids to decorate the tent she’d had set up out under the trees for tomorrow’s birthday party.

                Winnie shrugged. “You and I may have to agree to disagree. And why does it matter in the end? We’re not a couple.”

                “People can enjoy a sexual relationship without signing a contract,” Larkin insisted. “And if we enjoy being in bed together, that’s important in and of its own right.”

                “Maybe for some men and women, but not you and me. We’ve muddied the waters. You’re working for me. Now that we’ve done what we did, your family is bound to pick up on something. And to be quite honest, now that I’m here and I’ve met your cousins and siblings and their spouses, it seems kind of sleazy.”

                “We’re lovers, Winnie.” He dared her to dispute it.

                “We were lovers,” she corrected. “Once. Not anymore.”

                Sometimes words simply didn’t do the trick. He took her by surprise, pulling her close and kissing her softly when all he wanted to do was strip her naked and slake his thirst. “Once will never be enough for me, Winnie. I got a taste of you last night…literally. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

                Winnie tried to shove him away, but it was a halfhearted protest at best. “I don’t want to get attached to you, Larkin.”

                “Then don’t. Use me as your boy toy.”

                His droll comment startled a laugh from her, and he felt some of the tension ease from her body. “You’ll say anything to get what you want,” she said with a sigh.

                “It’s one of my finer qualities.” He slid a hand under her blouse. The fabric was crisp white cotton, hemmed neatly to hang over the waistband of a khaki skirt. Winnie’s skin was soft and warm. He groaned, leaning his forehead against hers. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

                “You have a significant sex drive,” she said primly. “I happen to be the nearest fish to your net.”

                “Not any fish will do, Winnie. And it makes me angry when you say that. You don’t have a clue how appealing you are. I want to eat you up like ice cream on a hot summer day.” He kissed her deeply, trying without words to communicate his need. Their tongues met, tangled. When Winnie struggled to get closer, he groaned.

                Her fingers toyed with his belt buckle, making him wonder if he could make do with a five-minute quickie. But he shoved temptation away. He wanted to show her that she was special. He put a few inches between them, ostensibly to catch his breath, but in reality because he couldn’t play this game and not take it to its inevitable conclusion.

                Winnie sighed. “I’m confused, and I hate the way that makes me feel. Wolff Castle is wonderful, but I’d rather be at home in my own bed.”