Maybe she’d even suffered a momentary pang of guilt for the distance she’d placed between herself and her sister. Maybe not. For all he knew, her visit to his home could have been at her parents’ request, as well.
“I mean I can’t.”
“Doesn’t matter. Semantics aside, it all amounts to the same thing. No is no.” He braced his hand on the arm of the leather sofa and pushed himself to a standing position. “Thanks for your time.” Without a good-bye, he headed for the door.
“Hold it.” Her voice caught him before he’d reached the hallway.
He turned to find her right behind him and reached out to grasp her upper arms before she barreled into him. Awareness flickered in her eyes at the unexpected contact. Her startled expression and flushed cheeks betrayed her inner feelings. He’d thought himself alone in this vortex of tangled emotions. That she felt the same desire shocked him.
The heat of her flesh coursed through his fingertips, despite the layers of clothing. Firm yet soft— another Chelsie Russell contradiction. This one caused his body to come alive. The desire to dip his head and taste the lips that had opened in surprise surged through him.
Before he could rethink the wisdom of his actions, he lowered his head to taste what she seemed to offer. His mouth met hers and her lips softened in acceptance.
His hands roamed over her. Even through the barrier of clothing, he could feel every curve. He exhaled, and his next breath was filled with her enticing scent, making his fists clench and his groin harden in unmistakable need.
Griff wanted more than a simple kiss. He wanted Chelsie. With that notion, stark reality and the reasons for his visit came flooding back hard and fast. His fingers, which he’d wrapped around her sweatshirt, uncurled as he released his hold and stepped back.
Chelsie simply stared, her moist lips mocking his current attempt at restraint. He’d been a damned fool, responding to a woman who angered him beyond belief, who made flippant offers to help and reneged when faced with the reality of her words, who toyed with a child’s life. With that reminder, he backed as far away as the small hallway would allow.
“Well?” he asked, letting impatience spark in his voice. Better than the sparks that had flown just seconds earlier. Their physical attraction was an inconsequential but annoying fact, one he could ignore with enough willpower. After her easy rejection of his niece and her problems, that shouldn’t be too hard. Or so he told himself, knowing he’d spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to convince himself of that fact.
“Well what?” she asked in a none-too-steady voice.
“I was on my way out. You followed. I assume you wanted something?”
She flushed a deep crimson at his choice of words. To her credit, though, she ignored his sarcasm.
“Come back and sit down,” she said. “We aren’t finished yet.” She folded her arms across her chest and met his steady gaze.
“I have my answer.”
“But not my reasons. I intend to give them to you, so sit down and listen for once.” She brushed past him, shaking her head as she walked. Her decidedly feminine scent lingered in the air, hitting him like a blow to his midsection. Lilacs? He suppressed a groan. Chelsie Russell gave new meaning to this concept of self-control.
She cleared her throat, and he met her gaze. From the center of the living room, she motioned for him to join her. “How do you practice law if you haven’t learned to listen?” she asked.
He listened—to everyone except Chelsie. With her, he reacted without thinking. That included leaping to unflattering conclusions without regard to the facts. Even when he heard what she had to say, he dismissed her words as meaningless.
Yet he had gone so far as to ask for her help. He had passed the contemplation stage and had actually wanted to have her around his niece, so he must have sensed some thread of decency in her nature. Despite what had just passed between them, she was right. He did owe her the chance to explain.
He groaned and followed her back inside to reclaim his position on the couch. “I’m listening.”
“Okay.” She leaned forward in her seat. “There’s a lot more involved with your request than you realize. Asking me to give you a regimented schedule wouldn’t work for any of us.”
All business. She’d obviously put their encounter aside with ease. Just as he intended to do. So why did he find his gaze drawn to her still flushed face?
“My life is... let’s just say it’s complicated,” she said.
“How so?”
“My career. I work twelve-, sometimes fifteen-hour days, weekends included. Even then, my desk backs up.”