She’d been very careful to never be alone with Lance—ever. She kept her distance and did her best to forget. It was the only way she’d been able to move on. Or try to.
He opened the door to his office, and Willa’s pace faltered. If their brief history bothered him at all, it had never shown on his face. Ever since she’d told him she never wanted to talk to him again, his expression had been carefully neutral.
Worse than hating her, he’d shown indifference.
He didn’t, however, look indifferent right then. There was a hunger burning in his eyes that tugged at her old feelings for him. She didn’t want to feel anything around him, but the chemistry they’d always shared was impossible to deny.
Which means nothing.
Animals mate indiscriminately.
People have evolved past letting their genitalia make decisions for them.
Her inner self-lecture did nothing to lessen how her body hummed with anticipation as she walked toward him. He held out his hand to shake hers and she froze. She didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want their connection to deepen. She knew exactly how good it would feel.
That kind of good had almost destroyed her once. Never again.
Still, to prove to herself that she was now in control of her attraction to him, she placed her hand in his and met his eyes. “I don’t want to take up your time. If you have the journal, I’ll take it and go.”
His hold on her lingered. “Tell me, what do you think of the building?”
Honestly, Willa hadn’t noticed much about it. Her thoughts had revolved around their meeting. She based her answer on a general impression of it. “It serves its purpose, I suppose, but—”
“But? Don’t hold back on my account.” His hand tightened on hers.
She pried her hand out of his. “It lacks warmth.”
He frowned and motioned for her to follow him inside his office. She did, and he closed the door behind her. He led the way to a glass table with a pair of stark white chairs beside it. “It’s not a home, it’s a place of business.” She took one of the seats, and he sat across from her. “It has been lauded in several architectural magazines as a glimpse into the future.”
“How depressing,” Willa said without thinking, then bit her lip. She didn’t come to fight with him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He held her gaze intently. “What would you change about it?”
Willa lifted and dropped a shoulder. His questions were about more than the building. She knew she shouldn’t respond, but it was tempting to tell him what she thought in terms of his building. “The exterior is striking, but there isn’t anything unique about the interior. No grand foyer at its heart. Nothing that makes a person feel welcome when they enter. Nothing that would make them want to return.”
“I optimized the space available. Adding a foyer would have wasted most of the ground floor.”
“It’s only my opinion. You seem happy with your design. What I think doesn’t matter.”
Lance leaned forward. “That’s where you’re wrong. It does. It always has.”
Willa shook her head. She rejected how good his words made her feel. Even if he felt that way, it was too little too late. She wasn’t a good enough liar, even to herself, to be with him and pretend he hadn’t almost destroyed her. She didn’t want to go back to feeling the way she had after being with him. It had been a low point in her life. Others had disappointed her in the past, but that year she’d added her own name to those who had let her down. Forcing levity into her tone, she asked, “So, where is this infamous journal?”
He rested his elbows on his knees and held her eyes. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve been alone since Nantucket? Ten years.”
Willa swallowed hard. The child in her wanted to run from the room. The woman in her wanted to prove to him he didn’t matter enough for her to run. “Has it been that long? God, we’re getting old fast.”
“You still owe me an explanation.”
The attraction she felt for him fell to the wayside and fury surged through her. She’d thought she could do it. She’d thought enough time had passed, but it hadn’t. When the Band-Aid of denial was ripped off, the wound was still fresh. She shot to her feet. “I owe you nothing.” She turned to leave but he was in front of her, blocking her exit. “Get out of my way. It was a mistake to come here.”
He grabbed one of her arms and held it painfully. “The mistake was waiting this long to talk it out. I deserve to know what happened. Why are you still angry with me? You wanted to have sex that night as much as I did. I didn’t take advantage of you.”