That was laudable, it really was, except that Sam had realised these past few days that it was Xander himself who was now capable of hurting her, far more than Malcolm ever had, but in a completely different way.
She had been fighting her attraction to him all week, avoiding being alone with him whenever possible, as well as keeping their conversations light and impersonal. It hadn’t always been possible to remain completely immune, of course; shower time with Xander had become both Sam’s daily torture and pleasure. Especially given his blatant desire.
But Sam had put his arousal down to the weeks he had been denied a sex life, rather than a direct response to her. Xander was probably so sexually frustrated, after almost two months of drought, that he would have responded physically to any woman, rather than specifically to her.
Nevertheless, that hadn’t prevented Sam’s own reaction to all that taut, tanned, and naked flesh: wide and muscled shoulders she ached to touch, a sleek and lean chest, his waist and hips narrow, his legs long and muscled.
His hair had also grown longer this past week, falling in shaggy blond waves onto the back of the rounded neckline of his T-shirts, and falling silkily over his forehead.
He looked even more like a sleek and muscled Viking about to plunder and pillage and—
‘Samantha?’ Xander queried huskily as he took in the slightly fevered glow to her eyes and the delicate flush that had appeared in her cheeks, the tenseness of silence between them now such that he could hear the clock ticking out in the hallway.
Her gaze was focused on his mouth as she moistened the plumpness of her own recently chewed lips with a sweep of her tongue. ‘I should get back to the kitchen.’
‘I thought you had finished in there for the night?’
She looked flustered. ‘I— Not quite. I—I’ll leave you to—to get on with whatever it was you were doing when I interrupted you.’
He shrugged. ‘I was just sitting here thinking of going out.’
She raised startled eyes. ‘You were?’
‘To the club.’ Xander nodded. ‘But I’d really rather stay here. With you.’
Dark lashes fanned against Samantha’s cheeks as she lowered her lids. ‘You would?’
‘Look at me, Samantha.’
She gave a slow shake of her head. ‘I’d really rather not.’
‘Why not?’
Her gaze flickered up to his and then quickly away again.
Clearly she had seen and correctly read the desire he was no longer making any effort to hide.
The same desire he had been fighting for the past week. A desire he wasn’t sure he was capable of fighting any longer. He wanted Samantha so much right now he could no longer think straight. And her scent was driving him insane; insidiously warm and desirable woman combined with an underlying floral smell, possibly lavender soap?
‘This really is a bad idea, Xander.’
‘The most enjoyable ones usually are.’ He stepped forward to take her in his arms, the softness of her curves instantly accommodating his much harder ones.
She placed her hands on his shoulders in an effort to hold her body away from him. ‘We really shouldn’t do this, Xander.’ Her voice was pleading, asking for a level-headedness he simply couldn’t give her right now.