He gripped her upper arms and drew her down toward him. "Can you promise me you won't regret this tomorrow? Won't blame me for it?"
She frowned. No, she couldn't. But what was worse was the knowledge she was half naked in front of him and he was still pushing her away.
Where had she gone wrong? He'd wanted her just a few minutes ago. His tongue on her body hadn't been an illusion.
Had he decided she didn't have enough experience for him? God knew he outnumbered her when it came to past lovers. Maybe there was something about her he found wanting.
"You don't have a noble bone in your body," she said, dropping her hands from his chest. "Why are you holding me off, when I'm offering exactly what you've wanted from me since we met?"
His breath hissed out between clenched teeth. "I want more from you than a drunken tumble."
"Who are you and what have you done with Kieran Clearwater?"
"I told you," he said, pulling her close. "I'm not looking for another Candy."
She looked down at him, seeing the gold bleed from his eyes. Here she was, all hot and bothered, and his lust was cooling.
Shame spiraled through her. She was begging a man who didn't want her.
Idiot, she berated herself. Fool. They'd shared some alcohol-fueled confessions and she'd made them into more than they were. He'd said himself he hadn't known what he wanted from her. Well, it seemed pretty clear that he'd figured it out.
Nothing.
Not even her body.
"Bastard," she hissed, pushing herself off of him.
"Because I'm saving you from a decision you'll make us both regret?"
She rounded on him. "Don't ever think you can make decisions for me, wolf. I can take care of myself. Far better than you will ever believe."
"Chloe, I'm not rejecting you-"
A harsh chuckle escaped her. No, it wasn't rejection. He was doing this for her own good. Maybe he even believed it. But she knew he was doing it because his interest had cooled and he wanted an exit that wouldn't hurt their partnership. Couldn't have her storming out two weeks early, could he?
Holding out her arms, she twirled in a slow circle. "Hope you enjoyed the view," she said, snapping her fingers. Her shirt flew over her arms and buttoned itself up. "Because you will never see it again."
She scooped her bra off the floor and strode from the room.
"Chloe," he called after her.
She didn't pause as she raced up the stairs. Didn't hesitate when she threw herself into the shower to wash away every trace of his touch.
And she certainly didn't think twice about the tears trailing silently down her face.
Chapter Twelve
She was right. He was a damned idiot.
Kieran sat in his chair, staring at the files on his desk that required his attention, and couldn't summon the will to throw himself into work. Oh, he'd tried. But after catching the last of many calculation errors, he'd admitted defeat.
Work was not going to erase the memory that haunted him.
He pushed out of his chair, pacing the length of his office. Never before had he had a problem separating his personal and professional life. Whatever drama he got into stayed outside the office. This was his haven. A world he could command and order as he pleased.
But Chloe's face refused to leave him. The look of pain and disappointment in her eyes continued to slice through him half a day later.
"I did the right thing," he said to himself. The noble thing. She was right that it went against his hedonistic nature, but he hadn't wanted to break whatever it was growing between them.
Though trying to protect her may have done that anyway.
Claws ached to explode from his fingertips, a sure sign of his rising agitation.
His plan had been sound in theory. Alcohol had loosened both their tongues, allowing them to share revelations they never would have offered otherwise. If it had stopped there, they'd both be calling last night a win.
But when she'd climbed on top of him, all thoughts of talk had flown from his mind. What was it about the witch that made him crave her like a damned drug? It wasn't his way to get hung up on any woman. He'd lusted after potential lovers before, but he'd never pursued anyone the way he wanted to chase Chloe. Usually he took a what-will-be-will-be approach to his love life. Often the women he wanted had little problem with falling into his bed. The few who'd turned him down had then been dismissed from his mind with very little contemplation.
Maybe it was their prolonged proximity that was tying him in so many knots. Once Chloe was out of his life things would go back to normal.
Except he couldn't imagine weekends without her curled up on the armchair, tea in one hand and a book in the other. He'd have to go back to solitary meals and a life that revolved around the office-neither of which had ever bothered him before now.
"It's the mating moon," he said aloud. His instincts were all over the place.
His thought lacked the conviction it'd once had.
He ran a hand down his face. Chloe didn't want temporary. She'd told him so last night. He was to thank for her newfound desire to find her mate.
The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
Even if she hadn't discovered her wish for a permanent companion, he'd known right from the moment he'd met her that she wasn't the type of girl to settle for a relationship of convenience. No, anything with Chloe would be tangled and complicated.
And no doubt vastly rewarding.
Which left him with a decision. Did he want to repair what he'd broken last night? The hurt, angry Chloe he'd seen might not be a delight to spend time in a cabin with, but she'd also pose no threat to his solitary life. Right now the woman wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole.
It'd be the easy way out.
Except the pain in her eyes gnawed at him every time he closed his. She'd taken his concern as rejection, and after the lonely life she'd lived, he could just imagine what that was doing to her.
She's my employee, my pretend lover. I shouldn't care. Hell, Chloe was taking up far more of his time than his real girlfriends ever had.
That truth did nothing to quell his desire to make things right.
He glanced backward at his phone. She was a few button presses away.
"Dammit," he cursed, stalking to the cordless. Other men might be able to ignore their partner's pain but he didn't seem capable of it.
Here's hoping she didn't dismiss the call when she saw who was on the other end.
Some things magic couldn't fix. Chloe's pounding head was one of them. The embarrassment clinging to her like a second skin was another.
Leaning her forehead on the desk, she closed her eyes and wished she were anywhere but work. Drinking on a Sunday night. Recipe for disaster.
Not quite as bad as waking up with a clear memory of exactly what had happened the night before.
She groaned, not exactly sure what was worse-telling her flighty would-be lover she wanted a mate, or the fact that he'd turned her down when she'd offered herself up on a silver platter.
Oh, he might have said perfect words she was desperate to believe, but in the harsh light of day Chloe figured the alcohol was probably affecting him as much as it had her. Even intoxicated, Kieran had managed to stop and push her away. He might have said he needed her as something more than his next superficial girlfriend but when push came to shove, he hadn't wanted anything from her at all.
And that pain cut through the worst of her embarrassment like a knife.
It was a blessing he'd stopped when he had, she told herself. He'd kept them both from making a mistake. Better he realized she wasn't what he wanted before she'd ended up crossing a line she couldn't come back from.
It didn't matter that he didn't want her as much as she wanted him. She'd always known they wanted two different things out of this partnership. Better to get this job done and get away from him as fast as possible. Then she could focus on finding her mate, which obviously wasn't the delicious alpha. Her mate wouldn't push her away. Not ever.
Her mate wouldn't find her lacking.
The phone rang, cutting through her morose thoughts and making her wince at the shrill sound. Pushing herself up with a groan she grabbed the receiver.
"Fated Match, pairing mates together since 1704."
"Chloe."
Her body went from sluggish to alert with that one word, spoken in a voice she recognized all too well.
"Kieran," she said. Her instincts demanded she slam the receiver down, but logic stopped her. She could play this cool. Be an adult. So he'd turned her down. She could rise above and be mature. Couldn't she?
"You were gone when I woke today."
"Early shift," she replied, not wanting to admit she'd set her alarm so she could avoid bumping into him in the kitchen. Last week she'd enjoyed the domesticity of getting ready for work together, watching Kieran making them breakfast while she'd prepared the tea and coffee. Today, though, she'd wanted a chance to lick her wounds before she saw him.