by Lizzie Shane
“Nothing.” At the time he’d thought his libido was dead—that he was too tired to have the energy to want anyone—but he wasn’t getting any more sleep these days and his libido was definitely awake now. Keeping him awake nights, fixating on the woman in the room upstairs, reliving that moment in the shower, replaying it with a very different ending.
She nodded, eating the ice cream, and a smear of vanilla lingered on her lip. It would have taken a much better man than he to resist that kind of invitation from the universe.
“You’ve got something…” He reached out, his thumb stroking along her lower lip, gathering the sugary cream. If she’d flinched or pulled away, he would have dropped his hand, but she looked up at him like she was hypnotized, her eyes liquid and inviting. Inviting? Was that wishful thinking?
She was still his employee.
Her tongue crept out to touch the point where his thumb had been as she held his gaze. Jesus. Talk about chemistry—he was about to combust.
His hand still cradled her jaw as he slowly lowered his head, so slowly, giving her time to throw up a stop sign, but she wasn’t moving away. She leaned toward him as if pulled by the same magnetic force that drew him, her face flushed, eyes liquid, until they were separated by a breath. “You know you can say no any time you want.”
“What if I don’t want to?” she whispered back, the words touching his lips an instant before his covered hers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The first brush of his lips over hers was so delicate she barely felt it—and yet she felt the impact of it in every cell of her body.
The kiss was surprisingly soft—surprising because she didn’t think she’d ever been kissed in such a gentle, coaxing way in her life. All of her other kisses didn’t even belong in the same category. It was somehow even more exquisitely erotic for its restraint. It warmed her slowly, building a burn that wasn’t rough and frantic, but managed to be even more incendiary as it drew the flame from deep inside her, rather than pressing the heat of passion on her from the outside.
Barely aware of what she was doing, she set aside the ice cream and lay her palm on his chest, spreading her fingers not to push him away but to feel him, and heard herself emit a tiny squeak in her throat—half questioning, half eager. Aiden seemed to know exactly what she was trying to say, because after a tiny pause he angled his head, wrapping his free arm around her, his spoon still clutched in one hand, and the kindling he’d been setting with that first gentle kiss caught in a sudden blaze.
Her arms closed around him, pulling him closer, needing him closer, around her, inside her, everywhere. She was suddenly awash in heat and sensation, awash in him. Samira clenched muscles inside that hadn’t been used in far too long. It felt like the knot of passion had taken root at the base of her spine, tightening there like a sun about to go supernova.
This wasn’t a kiss. This was a revelation.
Need rushed her, drowning her, and suddenly she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was too much. Too fast. Too everything. Samira tucked her chin and turned her face away, gasping in oxygen as she broke the kiss. “Aiden…” His name barely made a sound.
“I’m sorry.” He released her—and the loss of his warmth made the room feel icy cold. He took two steps back and raked a hand through his hair, making the thick dark locks stand up in clumps. He turned away, then turned back just as abruptly, spoon still clutched in one fist. “Actually, I’m not. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time and I think you’ve wanted it too.”
Her mouth fell open, but no words fell out. Luckily he was still talking.
“It never has to happen again if you don’t want it to. I’m never going to push you for more than you want. You know that, right?”
She nodded, too dazed to manage the words.
“This can be more. Or we can never speak of it again. Forget it ever happened. It’s up to you, okay?” His body swayed liked he wanted to step toward her again, but then resolve snapped over his face and he gave a sharp nod as if to some voice inside his head. Or some better angel of his nature. “Goodnight, Samira.”
He was out of the room, his footsteps pounding up the stairs before she could find her voice. Still holding that damn spoon. And all she could think of to say was what if I don’t want it to be up to me?
She read books with powerful alpha heroes and always thought it would be awful to be in a relationship with someone so controlling, someone who just took what he wanted, but by giving her a choice Aiden was forcing her to be brave enough to face her own feelings—and she wasn’t sure she was that brave.
If he’d just kept kissing her—but she’d pulled away. She’d put on the brakes. And she wouldn’t love him if he weren’t the kind of man who respected her boundaries—
She wouldn’t love him?
Samira shook her head to evict the rogue thought. What was she thinking? She couldn’t be that much of an idiot.
Infatuated. In lust. That much was obvious. This dizzy, swooping feeling he inspired was getting tangled up in her admiration and respect and confusing things. She just needed to get her head on straight. He was her boss. And a great guy. And handsome. And sexy. And he treated her like she was precious. Like she was valuable.
But she wasn’t stupid enough to believe she could actually be falling in love with him. The last time that had happened, it hadn’t ended well. It had almost destroyed her.
No. She wasn’t falling for Aiden Raines. She wouldn’t be that foolish.
*
“I kissed Aiden. Or he kissed me. We kissed,” Samira blurted to Jackie as soon as the kids had run off to terrorize the playground equipment, leaving them alone on their bench with Benjamin Franklin sprawled gracelessly beneath it.
“What?” Jackie twisted toward her so fast she nearly slipped off the edge of the bench. “I thought you liked Len!” She shook her head sharply. “Never mind. Which was it? Did you kiss him or did he kiss you? Because if he kissed you, that’s sexual harassment—”
“It wasn’t like that. It was—” Perfect.
Jackie groaned. “Oh Samira. Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she asked, clinging to her denial.
“Don’t fall for him! You know better!”
Samira hushed her, glancing toward the children to see if Jackie’s raised voice had carried to them, but they played on, oblivious to the adult drama.
She’d managed to successfully avoid talking to Aiden before he’d gone to work this morning. Thankfully she’d had the girls to use as a buffer and Aiden seemed determined to give her space to make her own decision, though she’d caught him watching her with eyes that made something dark and hungry clench inside her.
Part of her kept wishing he would just sweep her into his arms and kiss her, whisking the decision out of her hands, but he had too much integrity for that. Which she lo—or rather respected about him. But that didn’t make her decision any easier. She didn’t want it to be her choice! She wanted to be stupid and reckless and free to blame it all on him when it went wrong.
“What was so wrong with Len?”
He wasn’t Aiden. Samira stopped herself from saying something quite so incriminating. “There’s nothing wrong with him. Just no spark. Like Edison on Scandal.”
“No one turns down an Edison in real life!”
“You’re the one who’s always going on about how romantic forbidden love is on Scandal,” Samira grumbled.
“That’s a TV show!” Jackie yelped, but when Samira hissed she lowered her voice. “Doomed love like that is a tragedy. Sure it’s good for my weekly dose of angst, but I wouldn’t wish a relationship like that on my worst enemy. And you hate the emo part! You always say you would never fall for a Fitz. You can’t honestly be meaning to model your love life on Olivia Pope!”
“Of course not. And Aiden isn’t a Fitz. I just thought you might be a little more sympathetic.”
“You knew what I was going to say before you told me you kissed him.” Jackie sat back
on the bench, lips pursed with disapproval. “Why tell me if you didn’t want me to tell you to smarten up and stay away from him?”
Because I don’t know what to do. Because I’m terrified of what I feel. Because I don’t trust my own emotions anymore. Because the last time I felt for anyone the way I feel for him, I wound up married and miserable for two years because it turned out I was a terrible judge of character. “I don’t know.”
Jackie sighed. “What kind of kiss was it?” she asked—sounding less like a girlfriend gossiping and more like an attorney for the prosecution.
“It was nothing. A little peck.” Lie.
“No tongue?”
Samira blushed and shook her head. At least that much was true. Though it was a little embarrassing to think that Aiden had managed to get her more turned on than she’d been in years with a kiss that hadn’t even gone to France.
“Any feelskies?”
“Jackie.”
“What? I’m just trying to put together a mental picture.”
“It was sweet, okay? A very nice kiss.”
“Nice,” Jackie echoed. “Huh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. You just sit down in a panic babbling about you kissed him or he kissed you or whatever and I thought there would be more to it than nice.”
“There’s nothing wrong with nice!”
Jackie snorted. “If I told Amal his kisses were nice, he’d be insulted. And challenged to do better.”
Samira folded her arms, turning to watch the children. “Some of us like nice.”
“So you liked it.”
Samira felt her face heating again and was tempted to downplay to avoid more of Jackie’s scorn, but this was her best friend and if she couldn’t be honest with Jackie how would she ever be honest with herself? “I loved it,” she murmured without meeting Jackie’s eyes.
“Oh Samira,” her friend groaned—sounding far from delighted by the revelation. “Don’t get a crush on him. Please.”
“Too late,” she muttered.
“Where do you think it’s going to go? Where can it possibly go? He’s your boss. And a Raines.”
“Nowhere. I know that.” But she still liked him. Far more than she should.
He was compelling. Charismatic. She always fell for men like that. Her kryptonite. Men who wowed her. Men who made her feel special because they saw her even though she wasn’t impressive in her own right. Born without the wow gene.
She’d been drawn in by her ex-husband because of his charm, but she hadn’t really known him. She’d been blinded by her awe, by her stupid infatuation. Was the same thing happening again? She’d been starstruck by Aiden when they first met, back when he was Chloe’s husband. She’d gotten to know him over the years, but there were still moments when she felt awkward around him because he was such a presence.
Could she trust her feelings for him when he bowled her over the same way her ex had?
“Promise me you’ll shut it down,” Jackie insisted. “No more flirting with the boss man. No matter how much of the sexy widower thing he has going on. You’re convenient now, but you’ll be inconvenient in the future and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
He wouldn’t hurt me. The certainty of that thought pierced through her doubts.
“Samira. Promise.”
She muttered something vaguely affirmative, but her thoughts were miles away.
She hadn’t known her husband when they got married, but she knew Aiden. She’d lived with him for almost three years now and if she knew one thing about him, it was that he was kind. Not just to her. To everyone. He was a good man.
He wasn’t her ex. And even if things ended, he wouldn’t let them end badly. He wouldn’t hurt her. He was too kind.
Maybe another kiss wasn’t impossible…
Maybe she could take this leap. Maybe she could be brave enough to trust her feelings—as long as they were feelings for him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Aiden had always thought of himself as a patient man, but today was torture.
He’d kissed Samira last night and it had been amazing. And then he’d put the ball in her court, telling her that she could decide what she wanted—without a deadline.
He was a moron.
He’d told her they never had to speak of it again, but how would he know if that’s what she wanted or if she was still making up her mind? Had she already made up her mind and he just didn’t know it? Had he already missed his shot?
He was distracted all day at work, making stupid mistakes that were so unlike him the paralegals started giving him funny looks. It had only been one day. Less than twenty-four hours. He’d barely slept the night before—even after taking care of himself in the shower while secretly hoping she would walk in. He’d been up before dawn and somehow managed not to beg her for an answer when they were going through the usual morning routine.
It was a gorgeous day, almost mockingly perfect, and even rush hour traffic wasn’t that bad as he drove home, right on time. But she couldn’t exactly tell him what she wanted with the girls around so he’d been left in limbo as he silently prayed for bedtime to come faster.
His father called, confirming he’d be available for the annual family turkey shoot the following weekend, and Aiden had leapt at the distraction, but even that had been short-lived.
Now the girls were tucked in their beds, Samira was trailing him through the playroom—and she didn’t say a word. Did that mean she wasn’t going to say a word? Could he ask her if she wanted to never speak of it again without violating his promise that they would never speak of it again if she didn’t want to? He just wanted to know.
“Aiden?”
He froze, and his heart rate quadrupled. He turned, meeting her gaze—she looked nervous. Skittish. Was that a good sign or a terrible one? “Yes?” he prompted gently when she didn’t speak.
In the low light, he couldn’t tell if she was blushing, but her gaze flicked down and she wet her lips. “Could we talk?”
Shit. That didn’t sound like a prelude to take me now. Okay then. “Absolutely,” he said, trying to rein in his disappointment and replace it with professionalism. He’d known it was possible, likely even, that she would say no. There were too many reasons for them to keep their distance—the most important two sleeping just a few yards away.
He gestured for her to precede him down the stairs and she avoided his gaze as she slipped past him and lead the way.
*
Samira had been waiting all day for the chance to get him alone, working up her courage, biding her time until the girls were in bed and it was the time of night she was beginning to think of as their time. But now that the moment was here, her brain was jabbering incoherently and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
She needed to be herself. Only a much more confident version of herself. The best version. She’d smile at him and he’d smile back—that way he had of smiling that made all the tension melt out of her and all her fears retreat—but her face felt frozen.
She wanted to tell him that she knew he was nothing like her jerkface ex. Aiden was kind and caring and she trusted him. She’d tell him that.
And then she’d kiss him.
Her knees wobbled and she gripped the railing to stay upright as she descended the stairs.
She paused at the base of the stairs, her gaze flicking back and forth as she hesitated to pick the venue for this conversation. The office, his domain. The kitchen, hers. She felt more comfortable in the kitchen, but she’d stopped him when he kissed her in the kitchen and she didn’t want anything to make him think of stopping.
Samira stepped into the office, trying not to stare at the couch.
She had an entire romance-novel worthy scenario playing out in her mind. Aiden, she would tell him, I’ve made my decision and I’ve decided on you.
Did that sound cheesy? Okay, so maybe not exactly that. The version of Aiden in her head had loved it. Just
like he’d loved the imaginary version of Samira who had straddled him, gripped his face between her hands and kissed him with unrelenting passion.
Unfortunately, the real life version had never kissed anyone with unrelenting passion. Let alone straddled him.
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t quite how things were going to play out.
She’d just kiss him. No words necessary. And no straddling.
Except she couldn’t seem to picture a scenario in which she just grabbed him and kissed him. Her mind balked. What if he’d changed his mind?
She would have to say something first. She heard him enter the room behind her, waiting for her to say something.
The moment of truth.
“I’ve been thinking a lot. About last night,” she began, fighting to keep her voice even.
She turned toward him and saw that he hadn’t closed the double doors. So they could hear the girls if they woke up? So Samira wouldn’t feel trapped? In some sort of chivalrous one-foot-on-the-floor type thing?
Great. Now she was overanalyzing doors.
“So have I,” he said, but his voice gave nothing away.
What had he been thinking about it, she wanted to scream. But she was too busy trying to pretend she was half as cool, calm and collected as he appeared.
“Good. That’s good.” She swallowed, wetting her lips again. “I don’t have the best track record with men,” she blurted. “My ex… well. It didn’t turn out well, did it? I’m lucky to be free of him, but there are some things that follow you, you know? Some things that don’t let go.”
His brow pulled into a frown. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
“No! Nothing like that. I just… I was a really bad judge of character where he was concerned and it’s hard to trust yourself after something like that. Hard to trust anyone else.”
“Of course. I understand.” Compassion filled his face—and her heart shifted in her chest, squeezing tight.
