I shake my head. “It’s a bad idea.”
He leans in slightly, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I think it’s averygood idea.”
I pause. “And why would you think that?”
He shrugs. “Because we want each other.”
“I donotwant you.” I grip my glass tighter.
“You do. And you know what I think?”
I tilt my head. “Enlighten me.”
“I think my sister warned you against me because she knew that there would be something between us. And I think we both know she was right. But I also think it’s pointless putting off the inevitable.”
“The inevitable?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Yes.”
“And what exactly isinevitable?” I take another sip of wine, my heart already racing.
He scoots his stool closer, gaze locking onto mine. “By the time I board my plane back home to New York, I’ll know what you smell like. What you taste like. How you sound when you moan my name as I’m fucking you.”
I freeze. His words produce the most intoxicating, provocative image, and fire ignites in my core.
“You’re delusional,” I snap.
“And you’re denying yourself.”
“Of what, exactly? You? I hardly think so.” My words sound hollow, even to me.
He rests his elbow on the table. “Of the opportunity to come.”
A sharp breath catches in my throat. We’ve overstepped—I know it. My body betrays me once more as my insides liquify at how feral the wordcomesounds leaving his mouth.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of that myself,” I say, crossing one leg over the other.
“What if you didn’t have to,” he replies.
“I don’thave to,” I bite back. “I’ll have you know, I have no trouble finding a man to satisfy my needs when they arise.”
His lips curve slightly. “I can’t imagine you would.” He studies me with those infuriating blue eyes. “Speaking of, we haven’t had a chance to speak privately since last Friday.”
I gulp. Last Friday—Ruby Lounge. The mention of that night sends heat rushing through me and my carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. “There wasn’t much to discuss.”
“No?” He tilts his head. “How was it?”
He’s relentless.
“How was what?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Tim.” His voice is almost a growl.
I avert my gaze, unable to look at him. Unable to admit that I couldn’t go through withTimafter Max left me so unbelievably hot and needy forhim.
“Ah,” he says. “Things didn’t go to plan, then?”
I force myself to hold his gaze, even though every instinct tells me to look away.
