“Give those back, please.” My tone is cold, even if my words are polite.
I won’t provoke him while we’re alone in here, but I don’t want him to think I’m remotely welcoming. His attention makes my skin crawl, and he’s blocking my way to the door.
He gives me a rueful chuckle when he returns my headphones. I quickly toss them into my plastic hamper along with my laundry and hold it between us, forcing him back a step.
“Where’s your fancy boyfriend?” he drawls, his eyes lingering on my breasts. My camisole has dipped lower than usual while I was bent over the dryer, and my cleavage is on display.
I can’t tug my shirt up while I’m clutching the hamper, and I don’t want him to know that he’s getting to me. I sense that any sign of weakness will be interpreted as invitation.
“He’ll be here any minute,” I lie.
Dane won’t arrive for a few more hours, but Ron doesn’t need to know that. I’m hoping that the mere threat of my white knight’s imminent arrival will make him back off.
Instead, he beams at me. “Oh good. We’ll have a little time to get properly acquainted. I think we got off on the wrong foot before. We’re neighbors. I want us to be friendly.”
“I’d prefer if we were simply cordial,” I reply coolly. “I’m sorry, but I’m really busy. I need to get this laundry put away before Dane gets here.” I’m quick to remind him of my lie.
“Hey, I get it.” Ron holds up his hands as though in defeat. “You’re a classy lady, and he’s a fancy man.”
Then he takes a step toward me, and my stomach drops.
“But you have that sexy Carolina drawl, and you need a Southern man, not some foreigner.”
“What I need is for you to leave me alone,” I assert.
My butt bumps against the hot dryer. There’s nowhere for me to go.
“Back off,” I warn, and my voice doesn’t waver.
I’m done being polite.
“There’s no need to be rude, Peaches,” he admonishes with a shake of his head.
“You’re the one being inappropriate.” I struggle to keep my tone calm and even when my heart leaps into my throat.
“Oh, come on.” He’s cajoling now, and he takes another step toward me. He’s close enough that his weight presses my hamper into my belly, pinning me. “We could go up to my place. Have a drink. You’ll see that I’m a nice guy.”
My fingers are numb around the handles of the hamper.
“Let me out.” The demand is a ragged whisper.
My twisted fear response is causing me to shut down. Forbidden lust doesn’t stir this time, but I’m not running away from danger, either. As always, I freeze.
It’s going to happen again, and I’m going to let him do it.
He shoves the hamper aside, and it clatters to the concrete floor. My clean laundry spills everywhere, but my eyes are fixed on the threat.
“I knew you liked me,” he says with smug satisfaction.
His breath smells like stale tobacco, and his lips taste bitter when they crush down on mine. The faint scent of cigarettesmoke threads through my senses, and I’m not sure if it’s coming from him, or if I’m getting dragged into the memory of Tom and my debutante ball.
I close my eyes, as though I can hide from what’s happening to me.
Dane’s fierce green eyes fill my mind. They glitter with possessive hunger.
I’mhis.
Ron has no right to touch me.
