He stepped into her, wrapping her in his arms and tucking her against his chest. The quiet sob she let out was his undoing. This fragile creature in his arms was nothing like the firecracker he’d enjoyed jousting with. There was a good chance he’d pay dearly for his actions when she came back to her senses. She’d hate being weak in front of him, but it was worth it to hold her like this, his large body sheltering her smaller one.
He felt the moment when she gave in and melted against him, her lush curves filling his hard edges. Cupping her face in his hands, he willed her, for this one moment, to take her strength from him. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and haunted by demons he didn’t recognize. He slid his hands into her hair, sending her hard hat clattering to the floor. Before she could react he tightened his grip on her thick mane and pulled her in for a kiss. His lips brushed over hers and when she sighed against his mouth, he took it as an invitation and slipped his tongue past her lips. He teased and tasted her, groaning in pleasure when she met his strokes with her own.
Fuck, she was intoxicating. A perfect mix of hard and soft, steel and silk. Strength and vulnerability. And he drank her in.
Her hands slid up his chest, fingertips tracing along his neck, tangling in his hair. She drew him to her as surely as he held her and knowing she wanted him, too, sent the blood pounding to his cock. He sank into the kiss, his hands fisted in her hair while he plundered her mouth. His erection pressed against the soft mound of her belly, and her breasts rubbed against his chest, the thin cotton of their T-shirts the only barrier between them.
He felt her body along every inch of his, and it took every bit of restraint he had to keep from stripping her bare and sinking into her slick, wet heat. The woman drove him wild.
She made a desperate noise deep in her throat, and he felt her struggle to pull back. He broke the kiss but dropped his hands to her waist, keeping her anchored against him.
“I can’t do this.” Her voice sounded shaky, and he felt her body tremble under his hands. “I’m sorry. I never should have let that happen.” She looked up at him under her fringe of lashes, and her forehead wrinkled. “You’re not wearing a hardhat.”
The change of subject caught him off guard and distracted him enough to let her slip from his arms. Before he could point out that she wasn’t wearing one either, she’d bent and scooped up the orange plastic hat, cramming it on her head.
“I’ll take my chances,” he said, but part of him was shocked. The woman had him so twisted up; he’d forgotten his hardhat two days in a row. He learned decades ago never to show up on a jobsite without one, and until yesterday, he hadn’t. Jesus, he had to get her into his bed before he started losing track of the rest of his business. He didn’t get where was by being distracted.
He missed holding her, missed the warmth of her body against his, but she seemed so spooked. He worried if he reached for her again, she’d bolt.
“Why were you crying?” He saw her eyes cloud and knew she was about to feed him some bullshit story. “Don’t lie to me.” He laced his voice with the command he used when he needed to get things done.
She blew out a breath, and he felt her wrestling with herself. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again.
“I’m in a bit of a tight spot. I have a temporary capital deficit. And I miss my mom.”
He could see how much the last bit had cost her and waited to see if she’d say anything else. She stood, chewing on her lip, and he could almost see the gears turning in her head.
“She passed away?” he asked when she didn’t offer.
“Five years ago. I miss her every day. My dad had a rough day. That makes it worse.”
He knew he father was in a nursing home, for Alzheimer’s he thought. He could only imagine how hard it was to watch someone you loved sit in front of you but at the same time slip away. In some ways, it might be worse than losing them outright.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t add anything or reach for her. He knew a woman like Claire wouldn’t want his sympathy or the extra attention when she already felt vulnerable. It pleased him immensely that she’d shared as much as she had with him. “Why the temporary capital deficit?” he asked, grinning at her word choice. “You shouldn’t be underwater on this job.”
“I’m not.” She turned back to the spool of wire, and he felt her shutting him out. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got everything under control.”
He felt like a little bit of a prick, but sweet talking her wasn’t going to get Claire to open up to him. He was going to need some leverage to get what he wanted from her. What they both needed.
“I have to worry about it. I don’t take chances with my projects so if you have some kind of problem – which you obviously do – you better tell me about it.”
“I already told you.”
When she bent to pull the wire, he found himself staring at the thin strip of exposed skin between the waistband of her jeans and the hem of her T-shirt, and his mouth practically watered.
Enough was enough. He had to burn this woman out of his system before he lost his mind.
“The money, Claire. Tell me about the problem with the money. I already know you’re flipping houses on the side. I don’t have a problem with it unless you hide something that comes back to bite you and by extension me. I won’t let that happen.”
“I’m overextended on a house I’m flipping. It’s a good project,” she hurried to add. “The neighborhood is on its way up and the house is going to be beautiful. But the kitchen estimate came in at double what I’d budgeted and the inspector found asbestos. Until I can get it cleaned up, I’m hemorrhaging money.”
“Don’t you have a contingency?”
She looked over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes. He could almost see her silently calling him names.
“Of course I have a contingency.” Theyou moronwas silent.
“Then what’s the problem?”
