Kissing Max was better than any fantasy she’d ever spun.
She pressed her fingers to her bruised lips. There was more passion in that kiss than anything she’d experienced. He could have eaten her alive, and one more second of his fingers curving into her wet heat would’ve elicited an earth-shattering orgasm. If the phone hadn’t rung, she’d probably be convulsing on him right now.
Heat flooded her cheeks but Carina knew this was a turning point. A test. If she freaked out, ran away, there would never be another kiss. Somehow, a door had flung open within their relationship, and he didn’t know how to handle it. No way could he fake that type of attraction. Her gaze slid down to his erection. No way could he hide it, either.
She gambled and threw everything she had on the table. “Wow. Well, I guess that was overdue. At least we got it out of the way.”
His piercing blue eyes glinted with astonishment. He seemed to struggle for words. “What?”
Carina gave a little laugh and ducked her head in mock embarrassment. “Geez, Max, I mean, what did you expect? I was angry, pissed you off, and we’ve always had a connection. It was just natural to test it out once. Now we can move on. Right?”
Her heart beat in grief but her head knew she needed to follow the ruse to the bitter end. If he thought she believed the kiss meant something, he’d be out of her life faster than a magician pulled a rabbit from the hat. She couldn’t risk it. Not now.
Not when she realized she still wanted more.
His gaze shredded through her careful facade but she held firm. “This was my fault. I should have never pushed the issue. I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what happened.”
She waved a hand in the air though his words sliced like razors. “No need to apologize. We both needed to burn off some sexual tension. Let’s just forget it.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked softly.
Her smile glittered with brilliance. “Of course. Just let this be a lesson to stay out of my personal life from now on. No more threats or bullying my dates. Got it?” He flinched, but nodded. “Great, now I better get going.”
“No.” The word stopped her immediately. “I’m not letting you drive in this storm. You’ll stay here tonight.”
“I’ll be fine. The rain slowed and I’ll drive carefully.”
“No.” He repeated the command and shook his head as if throwing off the rest of the fog. “I have a ton of guest bedrooms. I’ll get you clothes. Go sit by the fire and I’ll be right back.”
“But—”
He disappeared down the hall. Carina shuddered and buried her face with her hands. No way could she stay here. All night? She’d break, tiptoe into his room, and seduce him. Especially now that she experienced a taste. His earthy, musky scent, the rough stubble scraping across the tender peak of her breast, the silky thrust of his tongue as he claimed her mouth, the flavorful sting of cognac.
She locked up the memory. She mustn’t make a mistake. Not until she was alone and able to assess the situation. Make a new plan. Right now, she needed him to feel as comfortable and unthreatened as possible.
Carina moved to the living room and sat on the thick cream carpet in front of the fire. Her flesh warmed from the heat of the flames, and she deliberately relaxed her muscles in an effort to slow down her heartbeat. Rocky slunk back into the living room and plopped down beside her. Murmuring soothing words of how beautiful he was, she stroked his damaged ear and sent him to doggy heaven when her fingers found his canine sweet spot.
Carina admitted she was quite jealous.
“Put these on.” Max thrust a large T-shirt, sweat socks, and a flannel robe at her. Rocky kicked out his legs and growled in protest. She laughed, scratched his belly one last time, and went to change.
Her gaze took in the elegant lines of his mansion. Like Michael, he’d earned a fortune building La Dolce Maggie, and his style proved both expensive and tasteful. The rooms screamed single male, from the spartan decor to the fully stocked bar and game room. The televisions were theater sized, and comfortable leather sofas and recliners, complete with beer cup holders, framed the action. One peek in his kitchen showed pristine ceramic tile, cherry cabinets, and sleek stainless steel appliances. Not a dish in the sink. Either he had a cook, a maid, or ate out every night.
She changed quickly and rejoined him in the living room, sitting in her previous spot. The wood crackled and she pulled her feet up, tucked the robe over her knees, and stared into the flames.
His gaze bore into her back but she remained silent, letting him speak first. Rocky padded over and with a doggy yawn, he rested his massive head in her lap.