Hell. Too close.
Her heat. Her feminine scent. Her sexy breathing.
He jumped to his feet and forced his legs to carry him to the end of the king-size bed. “Nine work for you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Her expression veered to weird. “Most people would’ve turned huffy, demanded answers.”
“I’m not most people,” Hone snapped. “You want coffee?”
“Please.”
“I’ll bring in your bag for you. You can use my shower.” He gestured to his en suite and left before his dragon pushed the issue, and he climbed back in bed with her.
Oh, sugar.
She puffed out her breath hard enough to stir her fringe. She’d pissed him off when he’d been nothing but kind to her, rescuing her not once, but twice. Yet, she didn’t know him…
You kissed him, a little voice interrupted. Heat rushed through her at the memory. The man kissed…perfect, masterful kisses that strummed her like a guitar. He had a right to ask questions, but what would happen once he learned the truth? She’d discovered it was better to keep her life private—her two lives separate. Less complicated, and she didn’t have to make excuses about her absences, her weird hours.
But you’re not happy. That stupid little voice again.
She was content. She was blissful. She was a box of joyful song birds.
Yet she’d come home to New Zealand. She’d decided to take a break when Kevin required her to embrace a new direction. The truth. Something lacked in her life…
Hone appeared. “Here is your bag. The coffee is almost ready.”
“I’ll come out,” Cassie said. “I won’t be long. I need my glasses to take away the fuzziness.”
He offered a curt nod and wheeled, leaving her staring at his spectacular arse, outlined by his boxer-briefs, and his bare back covered by a blurry dragon tattoo. Her fingers tingled as she recalled touching his warm skin, trailing her hands over his muscled chest. She’d touched him and enjoyed the tactile caress.
Emma had the worst timing.
