by Katee Robert
Reluctantly, he sank into the couch across from her. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Would never want to talk about it. Even if she had skeletons in her closet, she couldn’t understand what he’d gone through any more than the therapist the Army forced on him had. She’d pat his hand and tell him she understood, or worse, that it’d get better. He couldn’t deal with that, not from Roxanne.
“I’m not really sure where to go from here.” She pressed her lips together and frowned. “You’re not making this easy on me.”
“Should I be? Because, last time I checked, you’re the one who set the tone of our interactions.”
“That hurts. Really, it does.” She pressed a hand to her chest, drawing his attention to the dress she wore. Though he’d registered it at the coffee shop, he hadn’t taken the time to really notice anything besides the fact it covered up the scrape on her leg. It wasn’t particularly tight or over-the-top sexy, but the green folds accented her curves without quite revealing them, which only make the slice of skin it showed of her chest that much more tantalizing.
“Why are you really here, Roxanne? Just because of my sister?” He braced himself for her to agree. She’d made her stance on what happened between them pretty damn clear when she up and left this morning. Hell, if he was going to be perfectly honest with himself, he wasn’t in a good place to start something serious, and if she’d asked him, he would have admitted to as much. But that didn’t change the truth—he was pissed because she’d taken the choice away from him.
Ian leaned back, enjoying the way her gaze jumped to his chest, his stomach, and lower, before jumping away again. She was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, which meant she wasn’t entirely unaffected. Good. “I know you’re not here for your goddamn cab money, because you never planned on seeing me again.”
“Even if I did, it’s not like I’m going to demand you pay it back.”
Her easy dismissal annoyed him even more. “I don’t need your fucking charity.”
“Then maybe I was just paying you for a good night’s work.” She crossed her legs, which flashed a bit of calf that he refused to be distracted by, even if he could see her scrape from last night. “It’s important to show your appreciation for such things.”
Did she just call him a sex worker? “Woman, a night with me is worth a hell of a lot more than twenty bucks.”
“If you say so.”
He hated this, hated how unaffected she seemed, when he wasn’t the least bit relaxed right now. He pushed to his feet, only his hand on the towel holding it in place. “I do say so.”
“What are you doing?” Roxanne’s narrowed her eyes, and her entire body tensed, as if she were going to run.
“I think you’re full of shit. You were all over me in the bathroom just this morning—I’d think if it were only worth twenty bucks, you would have managed to keep your hands to yourself.”
“I panicked. So sue me.”
He held out his hand. “Prove it.”
“Prove what, exactly? That you’re an ass? Because I think that point can be laid to rest.”
“Prove you can kiss me now, without emotions running high, and be unaffected.” She couldn’t do it. He was sure of it. Even being in the same room had him ricocheting between wanting to shake some sense into her and wanting to hold her close because he still couldn’t quite believe she was here right now.
She looked at his outstretched hand as if it were a snake threatening to bite her. “I think I’m good.”
“What have you got to lose?” He forced his voice to be light, as if it didn’t matter one way or another, when the truth was that right now it was everything he could do not to yank her to her feet and haul her ass into the bedroom. Or simply shove her out of the loft and slam the door in her face for making him feel like he was losing himself when he’d taken such strides to regain control of his life.
“You have no idea.” “Chickenshit.”
Roxanne’s green eyes went wide.“You did not just call me that.”
“Actually, I did.”
She slapped his hand, but he caught her wrist before she could yank it back. Ian didn’t pull, though. He just watched her, silently challenging her to go through with this.
“You are such a pain in my ass.” When she got to her feet, he used her momentum to haul her against his chest. Roxanne made a sound suspiciously close to a whimper.
“What’s wrong?”
“You. You’re what’s wrong.” He held still as she smoothed her hands over his pecs and moved down to his stomach.
“I don’t understand.”
“This.” She slapped his stomach, but not hard enough to sting. “Who the hell has a freaking eight- pack? They’re like unicorns.They don’t exist. No, that’s not right. I’m sure there are guys who have them, but they’re the kind of guy who is obviously compensating for something. You aren’t.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’m a unicorn…” “A sexy unicorn.” She touched the top of his towel and stopped. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing. “God, this isn’t fair. If you were just a pretty face, it’d be so much easier to resist you.”
It wasn’t admitting she felt the connection between them, too, but it was damn close. He cupped her face, moving slowly and giving her time to react. His lips had barely touched hers when she melted against him with a little moan. Unaffected, his ass. But just like in the bathroom of the coffee shop, Ian didn’t capitalize on it. If they ended up having sex, it was going to be on his terms. And damn it, Roxanne would admit she wanted it as much as he did.
Still, he couldn’t resist angling his mouth to deepen the kiss. She hooked her fingers in the top of his towel, but she didn’t go further. For his part, he didn’t trust himself to touch her anywhere other than her face without losing control. All too aware of how tenuous his grip on said control was, even now, Ian gentled the kiss and took a step back.
The only problem was, Roxanne didn’t let go of his towel. It stayed in her hands instead of around his waist.
They stared at each other for three heartbeats before her gaze coasted down his chest to his cock. He could almost feel her gaze there, stroking him the same way she’d done last night. “You and I both know I can have you naked and coming on my cock inside of three minutes, your self-control be damned.”
Roxanne licked her lips. “I…uh…I’m going to go now.”
“That’s probably wise.” But she didn’t move.
8
Roxanne twisted the towel in her hands. She needed to go. She needed to go right now. But how was she supposed to go anywhere when Ian was standing there, sexy as all get-out, looking like some offspring of Adonis who’d wandered into the wrong apartment?
“This is a mistake.”
He didn’t move so much as a muscle.“Then leave.” “I’m going to.” But she took a step closer to him
instead.
“Stop.” He held up a hand as if to ward her off. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d just kissed her and was now standing at full attention down south, she’d think she was misreading his signals. But he had, and his cock was raring and ready to go. Still, she obeyed the command. She was helpless to do anything else.
Ian noticed—he seemed to notice everything.“I’m not a mistake, Roxanne.”
No, he wasn’t. He was a goddamn miracle. One she had no idea what to do with. “I don’t do relationships,” she said. “I don’t do commitment. I don’t do love.”
She’d tried, truly tried, on all counts in the past, desperate to prove her mother wrong, but they all ended the same—in tears and heartbreak. Catching her last ex-boyfriend in her bed with another woman the day after he brought Roxanne roses and said “I love you” for the first time had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. When she’d confronted him, he’d actually had to gall to tell her it wasn’t her—it was him. She couldn’t go through that again, especially since she suspected a relationship with Ia
n would be just as intense as every interaction they’d had up to this point. The inevitable breakup might actually destroy her.
“Who said I was asking for any of those?”
That should have reassured her. It sure as hell shouldn’t have felt like a slap in the face. But none of her reactions to this man fell into the neat little boxes she’d created for herself. She made herself smile. “You say that now. Guys always say that to begin with. But what about later?”
“Why not take things one day at a time? I’m not a fan of closing doors before I get to them. You never know what could change.”
His words were calm, were so damn self-assured despite the turmoil in his eyes—turmoil she suspected she was adding to. Knowing that, knowing her being difficult was adding to his already-towering list of things to deal with, made her want to scream. Last night had been amazing in so many ways, but she hadn’t bargained on ever seeing him again. The plan had been to soothe their mutual pain and walk away, no harm done.
Except she was doing harm right now.
All she wanted was for him to hold her and tell her that they’d figure this out. But it wasn’t going to be okay, and she couldn’t deal with every ounce of her limited self-control demanding she go to him anyway. If they kept spending time together, she’d never be able to keep the emotional distance necessary to survive when he walked away. Because he would walk away. Men always did, especially beautifully damaged ones like Ian. He wouldn’t be damaged forever, and when he finally reined in his demons, he’d want a wife and children. A family. He most definitely wouldn’t want the kind of baggage Roxanne brought to the table.
No. She couldn’t do this. Not now, not ever, and definitely not with Ian. No matter how much she wanted to. It was that want, more than anything else, that sent actual fear coursing through her. Realizing her hands were shaking, she dropped the towel, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “I have to go.”
Whatever he saw on her face, it closed down his own, until he offered her nothing. He might as well have been clothed in designer brands for all the calm he exuded. She kind of wished she felt that level of anything right now, because somehow he’d put her at a disadvantage even though he was naked and she was fully clothed.
“You know the way out.” He turned and walked away, and damn it, Roxanne couldn’t help staring at his ass until he shut the bedroom door behind him. If the man had an imperfect spot on his body, she had yet to see it.
The worst part was, she wanted to follow him into that room, to lose herself for a few hours in his arms. But that was the problem. She’d lose a piece of herself when she walked away—she already had. This was why she kept her distance, why she reduced her sexual encounters to one-night stands and short-term relationships, though even those had dropped off in the last two years.
She should have known better. Hadn’t she recognized a kindred spirit in Ian from the get-go? If she was already feeling a connection with him before they even kissed, she should have guessed sex would make things infinitely more complicated. No, it wasn’t love, but it hurt to walk away. She’d thought she could handle one night, since they’d never see each other again after it.
That hadn’t worked out quite the way she’d planned.
She left the apartment and walked to her car, ignoring the voice inside demanding she go back. Her crazy reaction to Ian was exactly why she had to stay away from him. She’d done her duty to Elle, and he didn’t want to talk about whatever it was driving him out of his mind.
So why did she feel like she was hip-deep in quicksand and sinking fast?
No matter what he did, Ian couldn’t get the look on Roxanne’s face out of his head. It had changed from desire to something else entirely—fear.It had surprised him enough to break the connection thrumming between them and walk away. Her warnings still rang in his ears, even hours later. No relationships, commitment, or love. She couldn’t have been clearer if she flat-out said all she’d wanted from him was one night of sex. He shouldn’t be surprised, not after the way she’d left this morning. Now was the time to let it go. She didn’t want anything from him, and he wasn’t exactly in the right place to jump into something serious. How could a woman like her be happy with a guy who didn’t even have his shit together enough to hang out in a bar?
He wished he could shake the connection he felt. Ever since he decided to get out of the military, he’d felt like he was lost at sea, set adrift from life with nothing really holding him in place. Now, finally, here was this woman who actually seemed to see him—all of him—without flinching. She understood, as much as one person can understand another.
He’d be a fool to let her slip away just because something about him scared the shit out of her. He wanted to know the source of that fear. Christ, if he were honest with himself, he wanted to soothe her in the same way she’d managed to soothe him. If that meant throwing on a suit of armor and riding off to slay some dragons, Ian was more than willing to do so. No. It was none of his business. He should walk away before this went any further. He had no business pursuing her, not when she’d made it so clear she wanted nothing from him.
But he couldn’t make himself leave it alone.
Ian got dressed, thinking fast. First things first— he needed a plan of attack. He’d felt completely off his stride ever since he woke up this morning, so he needed time to find his balance before he went in for round two.
Roxanne had already proven herself to be a runner, which meant he’d have to take away her options. If he could find out where she worked, maybe that would be the place to do it. The woman was obviously a professional—she’d balk at the idea of causing a scene in her place of business. He grinned. Yeah, that was playing dirty, but he learned a long time ago that most people didn’t play by the rules.
Who knew that going through two tours of Afghanistan would be exactly the training he needed to court a woman?
His smile died at the thought. That was the only thing good to come out of all those months spent crawling through the sand, sleeping with his weapon, and drowning in the constant state of awareness. He’d managed to get out without full-blown PTSD, but some of his friends weren’t so fortunate—and those were the ones who made it home without serious injury or losing a limb. Hell, Ian was one of the lucky ones, even if he didn’t feel it most days.
He looked around the loft, at the comfortable furniture and tastefully painted walls. He didn’t fit here, didn’t fit anywhere in Spokane anymore. The only time he’d actually felt completely at peace was when he was around Roxanne. Not even running was doing a damn thing to help. Nothing could compare to the peace she brought him.
No way could he let her go without a fight.
He’d give her some time, and then he’d corner her and ask her out. She might say no, but he had a feeling he could couch the terms in such a way that she wouldn’t.
Yes, Roxanne was going out with him again. She just didn’t know it yet.
9
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Another one? Roxanne should have known this would happen after she got that write-up in Brides. Everyone and their dog in the Inland Northwest seemed to have read the article, and they wanted her to plan their weddings. Business was booming. It was great—or it would be if she ever got the time to return the dozens of phone calls and respond to the million emails she’d gotten as a result.
So why was she having such a hard time concentrating?
“Probably because of interruptions like this one,” she muttered, then pushed the intercom button and put some cheer into her voice. “Send them in.”
“Sure thing.”
At least her receptionist, Mallory, was a miracle worker. The woman was a scheduling fiend, and she had a gift for calming down hysterical clients. Once they’d paid down the bills enough to breathe, Roxanne fully intended on giving Mallory a raise.
Her thoughts nose-dived when Ian walked into her office. She rubbed her eyes, sure that her fevered fantasies had gotten away from
her again. She didn’t particularly want to count how many times she’d come while thinking about him in the last week. Thank God she had a rechargeable buzzy friend, or the battery bill alone would have killed her.
Heat crept across her face, and she mentally cursed herself for letting him get to her again. He was the worst one-night stand she’d ever had, if only because he wasn’t staying in the box she’d created for their interaction. It was a really nice box, all tight and confined and well-defined.
When Ian shut the door and leaned against it, she finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her attention to the short sleeves he wore and how his shoulder muscles molded the fabric so gloriously.
And still he didn’t say a damn thing. She licked her lips, suddenly aware of how dry her throat was.“Ian…”
“I’m here to take you to dinner.” Wait—what? “Excuse me?”
“It’s the meal you eat in the evening.” He made a show of looking at his watch. “It’s evening.”
“I’m not hungry.” She prayed her stomach wouldn’t make a sound and betray her. Even as she did, she wondered what the point of fighting this was. Ian had a look in his eyes that she recognized—Elle had one just like it. Though Elle never managed to look quite so intense. He wasn’t going to give in.
If she were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
“Your assistant said you missed lunch.” “I had a full breakfast.”
“A quad white mocha. Yes, I heard.” He actually grimaced a little. “I have no idea how you can stomach those things, but it explains a lot.”
She refused to ask what he meant by that statement. She was going to have to have a talk with Mallory about her opening her mouth to a gorgeous man. “Apparently my assistant needs to have a talk about what would be considered appropriate information to give to prospective clients.”
