“Stop it, Sonya.” He couldn’t lose her. Not again. Which meant he had to stop playing the calm, cool, collected man of mystery. It meant he needed to rip open his chest and expose his heart. “If you don’t want me, tell me. Stop coming up with excuses.”
She flopped back onto the mat, blowing out a gusty breath. “Just because you’re giving up your spy-guy persona doesn’t mean you can’t still hurt me. Right now you’re all hyped on hormones and this chemistry we have, but what happens after we scratch our itch? You don’t know me. You don’t know I leave my wet towels on the bathroom floor. You don’t know I eat peanut butter straight out of the jar, double-dipping my spoon with disgusting abandon. You don’t know all the little things about me that’ll end up driving you crazy.”
But he did know all those things.
He went up on his elbow, cupping his chin and looking down at her. The way her blond hair spread out over the mat, the way she searched his eyes reminded him of a long-ago night when the moonlight had streamed in through the window of her Montmartre flat. They’d been in bed, lovers by then, and he’d seen the affection and fear in her gaze. Her feelings for him had grown beyond mere friendship and lust, and it had terrified her.
She was terrified again. Terrified she might begin to feel for “Angel” what she’d once felt for “Mark.” And could he blame her considering how everything had turned out for her the first time?
“You know, you could say all the same things about me.” He spoke quietly. “What if I fall for you, and you walk away from me because of all the weird and irritating things I do.”
“Like what?” she prompted.
He opened his mouth, then stopped himself. He couldn’t list his idiosyncrasies because they were Mark’s idiosyncrasies.
“Ugh.” She made a mew of disgust. “You can’t come up with anything, can you? You don’t clip your toenails in bed or forget to clean the coffeepot until it’s grown brown scum around the edges. Admit it, you’re perfect.”
“Far from it.”
She made a face. “I’m not convinced.”
“You say you are scared of me. But Sonya…” He reached forward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before fisting his hand against his chest. “I am absolutely terrified of you.”
She blinked. “Me? But…why?”
“The way you make me feel is different than any other woman.”
“But—”
He held up a hand, cutting off her argument because he already knew what it would be. “And I know you probably think that is ridiculous since we just met. But I have lived long enough, been with enough women, to know that what we have—not only this physical pull but this emotional pull too—is…something special.”
She bit her lip and looked away.
“I want to explore this thing between us,” he whispered because this was important, intimate, a truth only for her. “Explore everything about it. And maybe what you say is right. Maybe once we get to know each other, things will go south.” There was a part of him that was afraid that’s how it might be for her. After all, he had changed in the years since she’d known him. And not all of those changes were for the better. “But…” He gently caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look his way. “I think we owe it to ourselves at least to give it a chance. Don’t you?”
She blew out an unsteady breath and searched his face. Looking for what? Reassurance? Sincerity? Something familiar? Whatever it was, he wasn’t sure she found it because she squeezed her eyes shut.
In that moment, her name was the only thing in his head. The only thing in the world that meant anything to him. “Sonya…”
Her gorgeous eyes popped open. Emotion had darkened them. “There are only two things I want from you.”
He sucked in a wary breath. “Okay?”
“The first is the truth. I want you to tell me the truth always, even if it will hurt me.”
His heart plummeted into his stomach where acid went to work on it. “And the second?” His hoarse voice had turned to grit and gravel.
She grinned that seductive grin of hers and let his mind fill in the blank. Then she grabbed his face, pulled him to her, and kissed all the thoughts right out of his head. Kissed him until the breath in his lungs was the breath she fed him. Kissed him until his heart returned to his chest and then matched the rhythm of hers. Kissed him until his misgivings disappeared and all he could think about was stripping her naked and feeling her silky thighs close over his hips, close over his face.
Soft…that’s what she was. Soft skin, soft mouth, soft moans.
Warm too. Warm hands in his hair, warm breath on his lips, warm tongue dancing against his in a tangle of silken wetness and promise.
He wanted to go slow, but Sonya had something else in mind. Her mouth was greedy. Greedier even than his, and his was damned greedy. She hooked a heel behind his ass and pulled him on top of her. Chest to chest. Pelvis to pelvis.
She hissed her pleasure at finding him hot and hard and straining against her. And even though he was a big man, he knew he wouldn’t crush her. She wasn’t a tiny, fragile thing. She was solid. Solid and soft and warm and all woman.
Dear God, how he’d missed her. Missed this!
