I tremble under the pressure of his mouth. His lips are warm, soft, and gentle. Chills run down my arms, and this time, I’m certain the chill is caused by him and not my freezing house. He tightens his grip around my neck, and I fist my hand in his shirt, pulling him closer. He runs his tongue along my bottom lip, and I part mine to let him in. When his tongue slides against mine, we both moan.
If I’m not mistaken, this time he trembles.
All the blood in my body rushes to the one place that hasn’t responded to a man in two years. Hell, my body hasn’t responded to anyone other than my husband in over twenty-seven years. And here I am, letting Adam kiss me. I’m desperate for it. I need it.
And a sudden shame washes through me when I realize I’m enjoying this kiss on an entirely different level than I enjoyed kissing my husband.
Adam is different. He’s new. He’s unexpected.
I pull away, both of us breathing heavily.
“Adam.” His name comes out on an exhale. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t say that.” His arm tightens around my waist, pressing me close to him. “Please. Please don’t say this is a mistake.”
Unable to look at him, I bury my face in his chest. The emotions and desires swirling around in me are agonizing, and I’m not ready to deal with them. I had no idea how much I missed the touch of a man—the feel of his lips, his hands, and his arms around me. I want more. So much more.
Adam deserves to have a woman in his arms that only thinks of him. No matter how much I want him—and I do want him—I still think about my husband.
He kisses the top of my head and lets me go. He steps back, running his hands through his hair on a sigh. “I’m gonna get towork. Check on Ricky and see where he’s at with the furnace. You stay here where it's warm.”
He turns his back to me without making eye contact. He gathers the plates and coffee mugs and is gone before I can get myself to speak.
My shoulders slump.
I sit down on the hearth. The warmth of the fire feels good against my back but not as good as Adam's arms around me or his mouth pressed against mine.
I liked him kissing me. Too much. I’m not supposed to like kissing another man. I’m not supposed to be kissing another man, period. I moved to Montana to simplify my life, not complicate it. And I just managed to complicate things more than ever.
CHAPTER 9
ADAM
The week drags on like molasses dripping through a pinhole. Ever since that kiss Monday morning, I haven’t been able to concentrate. Camille has remained pleasant and friendly. In fact, she mostly acts as if nothing has changed between us. As if that kiss hadn’t happened.
But we did kiss.
And things have changed.
I’ll never be able to forget aboutthatkiss.
The way her mouth felt against mine, and the rush of heat that consumed me when she parted her lips, letting me in, will be forever etched in my memories.
One kiss isn’t nearly enough. I want more of her. Hell, I want all of her. But since then, she’s given me no indication she wants anything from me other than a renovated home.
Camille pretending we didn’t kiss is torture. It feels like she’s rejecting me before she’s even given me a chance. Maybe it’s my wounded pride.
Or maybe it’s because I’m competing with a dead man. That’s a competition that’s impossible to win.
I try to bury myself in my work. It typically takes my mind off any problems I have, but not this time. I work for her. I can’tescape her even if I want to. As long as I’m working on the chalet, she’s unavoidable. How can I possibly put her out of mind when she’s right there every time I turn around?
Her soft lips, gentle touch, and sweet scent taunt me. She doesn’t mean to do it. It isn’t her fault, not in the slightest. This is her house, and she has every right to be involved in the decisions regarding the renovation.
What makes all this even worse, is I knew better. Never get involved with a client.
If I had been a smart man—which clearly, I am not—I never would have kissed her. At least then, I wouldn’t know what I’m missing.
But now I know, and I need more.
