by Jaci Burton
"Uhh, I've got some personal business to attend to."
There it was again. He'd been quiet since they sat down to eat, and his mood had gone steadily downhill from there. She turned and leaned against the counter. "Aidan, something's wrong. What is it?"
"Nothing."
"That's not true. You've been quiet and sullen since breakfast. Did I say something to offend you?"
He shook his head and smiled, but it wasn't sincere. "Not at all, cher. What could you possibly say that could upset me? We had rip-roaring sex last night and again this morning. I mean, there's nothing like a great fuck to start the day off right is there?"
A knifelike pain seared her heart. A great fuck? Rip-roaring sex? She fought for control, knowing this would happen, that she'd get emotional about Aidan when she shouldn't. His words hurt, though, no matter how she was supposed to feel.
She inhaled deeply, forcing back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "No, nothing better. I really need to get going."
He reached for her, smoothing his hand over her hair. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay for another round?"
"No, thank you. I have so much to do I really need to go." She grabbed her purse, intent on hightailing it out of there as quickly as she could, then remembered she hadn't driven here last night.
"What's wrong, cher?" he asked.
"I took a cab last night." So much for quick exits.
"No problem." He reached for his keys. "I'll drive you back to the hotel."
Thankfully he was silent on the drive. She didn't think she could handle hearing again what a great fuck she'd been. Even though she'd tried to keep the emotion at bay, even though she'd made sure Aidan wouldn't think she cared about him, she couldn't help thinking their time together had been more than simply sex.
How stupid to think there had been some emotional bond between the two of them. They'd had sex. And that was all. No emotion involved whatsoever.
Aidan obviously had already had his fill of her, because by the time he pulled up in front of the hotel entrance he smiled and popped open her door lock. He didn't even ask if she was available tonight, or tomorrow, or ever.
"Thanks for the ride," she said, opening the door and hoping for a hasty retreat.
He didn't disappoint. "You're welcome. Have a great weekend."
Melissa fought for control until she reached her room, then sat on the bed and let the tears roll. The hot sparks falling down her cheek irritated more than hurt her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. She'd let her heart get involved, and already she felt the hurt she'd swore she'd never allow again. Sweeping the tears away with her fingers, she threw back her shoulders and went into the bathroom to change.
No way was she going to allow a man to screw with her emotions again. If all Aidan wanted from her was a fuck, then that was fine. That's all they'd be.
They didn't call her Frosty Cross for nothing. When she wanted to turn a cool breeze in a hot man's direction, she could do it like no one else.
Chapter Twelve
Aidan swallowed past the dry lump in his throat as he contemplated meeting with Melissa this morning. Two days had passed since he'd unceremoniously dumped her in front of the hotel. He hadn't called her, hadn't seen her and wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to kick his ass when he walked into the conference room.
Hadn't he been cowardly enough? How could he have treated her so callously after they'd made love the other night?
He knew why, even if he had spent the weekend trying to forget it.
Because he'd felt something with Melissa. Something deep and, dare he think it, meaningful. The two of them were so connected through the magic that he couldn't break the bonds no matter how hard he tried. And when she'd commented at breakfast that she was surprised some woman hadn't caught him yet, he'd panicked.
She scared the hell out of him. Scared him so much that he'd acted as if Melissa had been nothing more than a great fuck, when in fact she was more. So much more, in fact, that he'd run from the emotions she'd brought out in him.
Relationships, especially of the permanent kind, weren't in his nature. And a woman who was his destiny, as his mother always referred to it, was something he fought tooth and nail against. Something about feeling a sense of duty regarding love and forever didn't sit right with him. He'd always thought himself a free spirit, capable of making his own choices.
The word destiny yanked choice away from him, and he refused to let that happen. When the time came to pick a woman and settle down, he'd do the choosing. Magic and destiny had no place in finding the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.
Besides, the last person in the world he should get entangled with was Melissa. She was Boston through and through--cool, reserved and proper. They did things differently up there. She'd come from a completely opposite lifestyle than he did. She'd never be happy in hot and steamy New Orleans. No, best to leave things as they were--fun and sex and nothing more, just like he'd always done with women.
His step faltered as he approached the double doors of the conference room.
Fun and sex and nothing more? Why did that sound so unappealing? Easy answer, he knew. Because Melissa wasn't like any other woman he'd met before. And she'd trusted him. He'd been hounding her since the first day they'd met, trying to seduce her. And once he'd succeeded, once she'd let him in, he'd dumped her on her ass and ran like hell.
Nice move, asshole. He wouldn't blame her a bit for hating him. Right now even he wasn't too fond of himself.
Squaring his shoulders and inhaling deeply, he crept through the doorway and found Melissa already hard at work, piles of papers surrounding her laptop. She looked up and offered a cool, professional smile. "Good morning."
Okay, at least she was speaking to him. "Morning. Have a good weekend?"
"Fine. I've put together the large brochure in draft form and thought we could go over that first this morning."
Fine. Right into work mode. He knew it was going to be like this. "Melissa, about the other--"
Her head whipped up and she shot him a look that froze him on the spot. "Let's not go there, Aidan."
"If that's what you want," he said, realizing how petty he sounded.
He pulled a chair across from her and she slid the drafts across the table, mumbling about something having been his idea, not hers. But her conversation with herself was too muffled for him to make it out clearly.
"Did you say something?" he asked.
"No."
She wouldn't even look at him. He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, more confused by his own reaction than hers.
"Take a look at those and we can talk about them tomorrow." She rose and closed up her laptop.
"Tomorrow? Where are you going?"
"Shreveport. There are a couple new casinos there that have done a partnership with the local hotels. I'm driving up today to check them out, then spend the night. I'll be back tomorrow."
"I should go with you. You need someone from our hotel along."
Her gaze met his. It was icy, devoid of the warmth and emotion he'd become familiar with. "I am taking someone. Shannon's going with me."
"Shannon? Why her?"
"I suggested it to her and she jumped on the idea. Would give her a chance to grab some PR ideas."
Shannon, not him. She hadn't even asked if he wanted to go along. Sonofabitch. This was his project, not hers and certainly not Shannon's and he'd run the goddamn show if it was the last thing he did.
Dark clouds obliterated the sun, which had previously been shining brightly through the open blinds. Thunder roared loudly and Melissa jumped at the sound, then her gaze shot back to his.
Yes, he'd damn well done that. And he hoped she wasn't going to pick right now to ask him about his powers, because he wasn't sure how he'd answer her.
He pushed the chair back so hard it hit the wall with a thud. Melissa's eyes widened but he ignored her and picked up the phone to call his sister. Wi
thin minutes it had been settled. He hung up the phone and turned to Melissa, who eyed him frostily.
"I'm going to Shreveport with you. It's not nearly time to bring in public relations."
Melissa opened her mouth, then closed it quickly. "Fine."
"I'm going home to pack. I'll meet you downstairs in an hour. I'll drive."
"You don't have to--"
He cut her off with a frosty look of his own. "I said I will drive."
Without another word or glance in her direction he left the room, feeling instantly guilty for reacting so vehemently to her cold demeanor.
Isn't this what he'd wanted? Great sex and then back to business? Well, he'd wanted it and now he'd gotten it, so he'd damn well better be satisfied with the results of his actions. Even he knew he couldn't have it both ways.
An hour later, he was in front of the hotel. Melissa was prompt, stepping out just minutes after he'd pulled up. She'd changed into a loose sundress that had his cock's attention instantly. Blue with white flowers, thin little straps resting on her shoulders and the hem situated way above her knee. It flowed in the light breeze, affording him a tempting view of her slender thighs.
She'd probably worn the damn thing on purpose to drive him out of his fucking mind. Without a word, she handed him her overnight bag, then got into the car. He was thankful he'd brought the SUV instead of the Corvette. Seeing her nearly reclined in that silky dress that clung to her curves would have driven him mad. As it was he had to swallow the drool that threatened to spill from his mouth.
Damn she looked hot. She turned to him after she'd buckled her seatbelt and smiled coolly, then smoothed her dress, not bothering to pull it down where it had slid upward. The breeze from the air conditioner wafted her sweet lavender scent through his nostrils.
He was going to die. Six hours of pure hell awaited him, from a demon woman who now hated him and planned to torment him with a body he'd made fairly clear he was no longer interested in having.
He blew out a more than a little frustrated sigh and scrubbed his hand over his face before donning his sunglasses.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
He quickly glanced in her direction, noting the slight curve to her lips. She was enjoying his discomfort. "Nope."
Clenching the steering wheel in a death grip, he headed north, hoping the trip would go a lot quicker than normal. About four hours faster would work for him.
But it wasn't to be. The silence permeated the vehicle, hovering over him like a sledgehammer about to drop. The woman had a gift for icy demeanors. She answered every question with a yes, no, fine or I don't know, and the ones she could get by without answering verbally, she did so with a shrug. By the time they reached Baton Rouge, he'd convinced himself this was some sort of game whereby he had to figure out what question to ask that would require her to answer in more than one word.
"Do you see your parents often?" he asked.
"No."
"Any brothers or sisters?"
"No."
Would you like to fuck me again? No, that wouldn't be a good question to ask considering the circumstances.
"What would you like for lunch?"
"Nothing."
"It's after twelve, surely you're getting hungry."
She shook her head.
Damn but she was good at this game.
"I'm starving, so I'm going to pull into one of the fast food joints and get a hamburger."
"Fine."
Shit. So far, Melissa, roughly thirty-eight, Aidan, zero. He hated losing.
After two and a half hours of one-word answers he'd had enough. He started talking to himself in French, and providing his own answers, hoping it would spark her interest enough to ask what he was saying.
"Pourquoi etes-tu si fache?"
She lifted her chin, but didn't answer his question. Not that he really needed an answer. He knew exactly why she was angry.
"Je suis desole que je vous blesse." And he really was sorry for hurting her, despite his ego trying to convince him he'd done the right thing for both of them.
Still no response, but she shifted in her seat. If she was like most women, curiosity at what he was saying would get the better of her and she'd start talking.
"Je veux vous faire l'amour encore, Melisse." As soon as he said it, he realized how true the statement was. He did want to make love to her again, despite everything. His body hungered for her in a way that was new to him. New, and more than a little scary.
Finally, she replied with, "Pas si vous etiez le dernier homme sur terre."
Oh, nice, not if he was the last man on--"Hey! You speak French."
"Oui." She smiled smugly and looked straight ahead.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She crossed her arms. "You never asked."
True, he hadn't. "Then you understood--"
"Everything you just said."
Shit. "Okay, then let me explain--"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Dammit, Lissa, we have to talk about this!" And in a car going seventy down the freeway wasn't the right venue. He couldn't even get her to look at him.
"We have nothing to talk about, Aidan. You made your desires, or lack thereof, perfectly clear the other morning."
Then she did look at him, and he winced at the pain so evident in her eyes.
"I think you misinterpreted my actions."
"I don't think so. Look, we had great sex, we both had a good time, so let's leave it at that and move on. I see no point in continuing to beat a dead horse. We have business to do together, so let's just do it and keep the personal out of our relationship."
He should have breathed a sigh of relief. He should be glad she didn't want to complicate their relationship with a bunch of sticky emotions. He should be glad she'd seen the event for what it was--two people having a great time fucking.
But he wasn't glad. In fact, by the time they reached Shreveport, he was pissed as hell at her cold brush-off.
They visited two of the casinos tied in to independently owned hotels, and met with some of the hotel's marketing staff who were generous enough to share their sales strategies.
At least during the business portion of the day they managed to have civil conversation. In fact, Lissa's eyes lit up with excitement when they brainstormed marketing ideas. As he listened to her animated voice, so full of vigor about their upcoming sales plans, he wished she'd show some personal enthusiasm toward him.
No. That's not what he wanted from her. He needed, wanted, distance. At least personally. Professionally, he could handle being close to her. But if he thought about her intimately, he'd be doomed and would only end up hurting her more than he already had.
Now they sat in the restaurant of the hotel they'd booked their rooms in for the night. The little restaurant was casual yet elegant, and they'd been seated at a small table near the window overlooking one of the casinos. The flashing neon lights outside mirrored their colors into his nearly empty wine glass.
The business part of their day had ended. This is where he had to withdraw, before he noticed how beautiful her hair was by candlelight, the soft glow that spread over her face when she talked about something that excited her, or the way her breasts strained against her dress when she drew in a breath.
"So, what do you think?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Frankly, he hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to her presentation about their strategy.
"I think it's fine."
She frowned. "Which parts?"
"All of them."
After finishing her glass of wine, she sat back in her chair and studied him. "You haven't been listening to anything I've said, have you?"
Was he that transparent? "Sure I have."
"Okay, then tell me what the first step in our revised marketing plan is, based upon what we discovered today."
Oh, crap. How was he supposed to know? He'd only been half listening to her, his mind occupied with imag
es of her slender, naked body twined around his, her honey-colored hair spilling over his fingers like spun silk, the way she tightened around him when he was deep inside her. Anything but marketing plans.
"Well, I'm not sure. You want to tell me again?"
With a huff, she said, "No. I'm going to bed." She stood and tossed her napkin on the table.
"Wait for me while I pay the bill."
"Why? You're not coming to my room; you're obviously not the least bit interested in talking business, which means our time together tonight is over. I'm tired, I'm going to my room and I'm going to bed."
She turned and started to leave, then looked over her shoulder and added, "Alone."
As if he didn't already know that. He threw down enough cash to cover dinner and tip and followed her.
"I didn't proposition you," he countered, catching up to her as she reached the elevator.
"Wouldn't do you any good if you had." She stared up at the lights indicating the elevator's location.
"Oh, so you'd turn me down if I offered?"
"Flat."
There went his ego again, raring and ready to fight. But dammit, she pushed his buttons.
They stepped into the elevator together, along with an older couple and an attractive woman in her mid-twenties.
Ignoring the others, he said, "I'll bet you wouldn't."
She turned to him. "Wouldn't what?"
"Turn me down if I offered to have sex with you."
The young woman suppressed a chuckle and he heard the older couple's sharp intake of breath.
"Aidan, please. We're not exactly alone."
"Would you like to be?" He hated to admit it, but he really enjoyed teasing her. Especially when she blushed like she was doing now. Damn, but she fired him up, in more ways than one.
"You are insufferable, you know that?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, well and truly pissed.
He couldn't fight the smile that curved his lips. "I've been told that a time or two."
"Why any woman would want to sleep with you is beyond me."
"You did."
Her eyes widened and she gasped. The young woman laughed out loud, the older couple looked clearly distressed and Aidan was having the time of his life, finally feeling like he had the upper hand with Melissa.
By the time they reached their floor she was steaming. She headed briskly down the hallway, ignoring the fact that he kept right up with her.
