“Yeah, I do.” He didn’t want her to get dressed and announce it was time to go. “I’ll be here.”
“Good.” He left the bed and headed for his bathroom.
He wasn’t kidding about his ingenuity. The next three nights were taken, but her plane didn’t leave until New Year’s Day. Guaranteed he’d find more excuses for them to be alone between Christmas and her departure.
What then? She’d fly home with her memories and the latest version of his manuscript. Square Glasses would buy it. She had her pitch ready and Sasha respected her judgment.
Rance would become her author, beginning a business relationship that would last as long as he stayed with Square Glasses. Being sensible adults, they’d downgrade their personal connection from lovers to friends.
Yeah, right. As he walked out of the bathroom looking like every woman’s fantasy, she made a command decision.
Scooting up into a sitting position, she faced him. “This isn’t gonna work.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“What isn’t?” Rance knew exactly what Lani was talking about but he needed to buy time. The pleasure they’d shared had turned his brain to jelly. He’d expected her to say something like this eventually, but not right after great sex. Evidently her recovery time was shorter than his.
“You going with Square Glasses. Becoming my author.”
His chest hollowed out. “You don’t want me?” Still stalling for time, he said it teasingly as he climbed back into bed and mirrored her position.
“You know I do. I want you desperately. That’s the problem. When I leave here, it will be the end of this.” She made a vague gesture that encompassed his package and her lady parts.
“We’ll both lose our sex drive?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Sorry.” He took a breath. “I joke around when I’m terrified. It’s a bad habit.”
Her expression softened. “I’m sorry, too. But you can’t be my author. In our company that’s a special relationship. We’re encouraged to build a strong bond and create mutual trust.”
He took both her hands. “And we’ve done that already. We’re ahead of the game.”
“But we broke the rules of that game. We became lovers. Maybe you’ll be okay communicating regularly, knowing we’ll never again be?—”
“How can you say never?”
“Because it makes no sense! We’ll see each other at most three times a year and maybe less than that. Face the facts.”
Did she want to be free of him? His chest hurt. “When you say I should face facts, does that mean you want to start dating when you get home?”
“Of course not. It’ll take me a while to….” She glanced away. “Let’s just say you won’t be easy to get over.”
That helped. He let out a breath. “You said you might come for Easter.”
“I probably can.” She glanced back at him, her eyes filled with sadness. “It’ll be a short visit.”
He held her gaze. “Then what if we don’t make any big decisions now? Why don’t we wait and see how things go when we’re separated?”
“We’ll only be delaying the inevitable.”
“Works for me.” He made himself say the next part. “And if, sometime before Easter, you meet someone, then you should go for it.”
Her throat moved in a slow swallow. “Okay. Same goes for you.”
He smiled. “It won’t happen.”
“Probably not for me, either, so come next April, we’ll be in the same fix we are now, only your book will be in production at Square Glasses. That will be a done deal. That’s what worries me.”
