“Perfect.” She muttered under her breath. “I’ll never be able to fix this.” She pulled out the rest of the pins and shook out her auburn mane. For a moment Luke was unsure whether she was talking about her hair or what had happened between them.
He grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him. “You’re beautiful, Claire. And this is not over.”
“You don’t do relationships and contrary to the previous half hour, I don’t do one night stands. Neither of us has time to date. I don’t see how we can be anything but over.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, stoking the heat that seemed to be just under the surface every time they were together. Instead of melting against him, she pushed on his chest, breaking the kiss and wriggling out of his grasp.
“Don’t worry,” she said, snagging the tube of drawings from the sofa where only moments earlier he’d had her crying out his name in pleasure as she came undone under his hands. “We can talk about the plans at the job site, and I can show myself out.”
She reached for the knob but before she could open the door he was behind her, caging her with his arms, breathing in the scent of her hair, the musky scent of arousal and something indefinably Claire.
“You can do whatever you want with the lighting plan.” He spoke the words, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and was rewarded with the feel of her body trembling against his. “But this thing between us is not over. Nowhere close.”
