“Like I might actually be able to sleep tonight for the first time in three weeks.” She takes a sip of water. “Did you enjoy yourself? I saw you charming the donors pretty effectively.”
“Part of the job. You, on the other hand, pulled off a miracle tonight. This was incredible, Harper.”
A flush of pride colors her cheeks. “Thank you. My team was amazing. I couldn't have done it without them.”
I gesture at her glass of water. “You should celebrate with something stronger than that? You've earned it.”
She shakes her head. “I'm still working.”
“You didn’t eat dinner,” I say with a scowl, while wondering why her eating habits should bother me.
She grins. “I was full on adrenaline.”
“The event's over, Harper. You can relax now.”
“Can I?” She looks at me with those green eyes that have been driving me to distraction. “Because I'm pretty sure there are rules about event planners getting drunk with their clients.”
“Good thing I'm not your client.”
Silence follows my words. Harper's breathing changes, becomes shallower, and I can see the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
“Cole...”
I step closer, close enough to catch the scent of her perfume. “You were incredible tonight.”
“Don't.” But she doesn't move away.
“You're brilliant, Harper. And beautiful. And I've been going crazy living with you, wanting you.”
Her glass trembles in her hand. “You’re Brett’s best friend.”
“He’ll live.” I reach up and cup her face with one hand. “We’re two adults who are insanely attracted to each other. Am I wrong?”
She closes her eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch. When she opens them again, they're dark with want. “This is such a bad idea.”
“Probably the worst.”
But then she's rising on her toes and I'm bending down and our mouths crash together like we're drowning and this kiss is oxygen. It's desperate and hungry, full of pent-up need that’s been gnawing at us for weeks.
Her hands fist in my hair, and I back her against the railing. She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat that nearly undoes me completely. My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her flush against me, and she arches into the contact like she's been starving for it.
When we finally break apart, we're both shaking. Harper's lipstick is smudged, and her hair is completely undone now, and she's never looked more beautiful.
“Come home with me,” I say, my voice rough with need. “In my car.”
For a moment, I think she's going to say yes.
Then she takes a step back, her hand pressed to her lips. “We can't. Cole, we can't do this.”
“Harper.”
“I have to go check on the breakdown.” She's already retreating toward the door. “I'll see you at home. Later.”
And then she's gone, leaving me alone on the balcony with the taste of her still on my lips and an erection that's going to make the ride home extremely uncomfortable.
I grip the railing and stare out at the city lights, hating myself for wanting Harper. This is getting out of hand.
The thrum of desire is a live wire under my skin, but it’s quickly being short-circuited by a cold, sickening wave of self-disgust.
