“I’m a city girl.” What the hell? Her mind was tossing out every thought with no filter.
“I can see that. And I respect it.”
“I can’t leave here. I have a job.”
“Do you have vacation coming?”
Yes. “No.”
“Work with me, Kenz.” He blew out another breath. “I need you,” he muttered, his demeanor changing on a dime.
Her face flushed. The heat ran down her skin and across her chest buried under the layers of cotton.
He leaned forward. “I’m begging you to give me a chance. I can’t go home today and leave you here. It would kill me.”
She flushed further, if that was possible, and bit her lip. A knot formed low in her stomach, an ache. She stared at his lips. Soft. Gentle. Full. She wanted him to kiss her. She needed him too. More than he knew. But she didn’t want this.
It scared the bejesus out of her.
“I’m…” She couldn’t finish the thought. Scared? Worried about losing myself? Afraid of falling for someone only to have them change their mind or take over my life?
He rested his elbows on his knees and spoke softly. “I know, Kenzie. It’s normal for you to have doubts. I wouldn’t be comfortable if you didn’t. But we’ll work through this together. Please. Give me a week, and then we’ll renegotiate.”
A week? A lot could happen in that time. She’d never survive even a day in his presence without making out with him, let alone god-only-knows what else. And then she’d be lost. She wouldn’t know who she was anymore if she let him take her.
“You live on a farm?”
“I do. But it’s not as rustic as you are imagining. I’m not a hillbilly. I did go to college myself. I have a degree in animal husbandry.”
Oh. Why did that shock her? Had she been unfair to him?
“But I work with children. What would I do on a farm without them?” Children were her life. She adored them. Other people’s kids were as close as she ever imagined coming to having her own.
His smile grew huge. “You’re going to love it. Trust me. I have a surprise you will not regret.”
A surprise? What, chickens?
“I need a shower.” She lifted her gaze. “Give me a few minutes to clear my head and think?”
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned back and crossed his legs.
Without another word, she fled the room again. Could she escape his intensity by going upstairs?
No. She could still smell him no matter where she went. His scent had permeated the house. She’d never be able to rid her space of it. If this didn’t work, she’d be doomed.
What was she thinking? The only reason she was even considering going with him was idle curiosity and the chance to prove herself right. She wasn’t meant for this sort of thing.
•
Drake took deep breaths and tried to control his lust. He closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the back of the couch. This woman was going to kill him. Did she seriously think for one minute he found her less attractive in sweats, unshowered, and rumpled?
If anything, it made things worse. She wasn’t pretentious. She didn’t try to impress. She was just … Mackenzie. A beautiful woman whose scent filled the house. Her curls, unruly and flying all over the place, made her more adorable than ever. And her ancient sweats did nothing to hide her unease, her obvious fear concerning her body’s reaction to his presence. Her arousal permeated the house and made his cock rigid with wanting her.
He couldn’t sit still. He stood and paced the room, looking at pictures on the mantel and walls. So many photos of the family over the years. He smiled at a shot of Mackenzie with her sisters at the beach. The bikini she wore was a scrap of hot pink fabric that did nothing to divert his imagination. She’d been younger in the picture, maybe in her late teens, but her body had been fully mature.
He adjusted his crotch and wandered to the next frame. When he got to the stairs, he ascended, pictures lining the wall all the way up. Her mother was fond of preserving memories.
Without consciously deciding, he followed his mate’s scent and entered her room. The shower still ran in the adjoining bath, the door slightly ajar. He was in her space. She wouldn’t be happy, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He needed whatever he could get, and right now this was it. Her things. Her personality spewed out for him to witness.
Her bed was unmade. Her clothes from last night lay in a pile on the floor. He smiled. His mate was messy. Good, he wouldn’t have to impress her. He wasn’t a slob himself, but he knew some women were forever hounding their spouses to clean up more.
He fingered her comforter and sat down on her bed. He had to repress the urge to bury his face in her pillow and inhale her scent. He’d probably come if he did.