“Em?” Knox’s fingers brushed my wrist.
I flinched and jerked away from him. “I’m sorry. I just … I don’t think I can do this.”
His back straightened and his eyes hardened. “Do what?”
Lust after you.
Wish to inhale the spicy, rich scent of your cologne.
Want you to touch me more.
Thankfully, I said none of those aloud, answering with, “Have dinner with you. Talk like we’re supposed to know each other. This is too weird for me, Knox.”
His emerald eyes bounced over my face but he didn’t say anything.
I pushed my chair back, setting my napkin on the table before standing. “I think it’s best I give you space while you’re here.”
“Sit down, Emily.”
My knees actually trembled from the edge in his voice.
“Don’t make me tell you again.”
Real fear struck and I managed to ease back into the chair, pulling myself closer to the table.
Knox’s hand returned to my arm, slowly sliding up toward my elbow. “Relax.”
“You make it impossible.”
“Was that a compliment?”
His teasing tone helped to settle me somewhat.
Knox leaned in closer. “Relax, Em.”
“I’m trying,” I said, my voice trembling. And I did try. I really did, but it wasn’t working. I’d never had a reaction like this to anyone. Not even the one boy—Martin something or other—I’d thought I had found appealing. One of Kitty’s friend’s sons. He’d come around a few times at one function or another and we had talked. While he’d been as boring as Kitty’s parties, I’d thought he was cute and found myself wanting to get his attention. That had been years ago though, and while I still recalled the weird, gooey sensation I’d felt at the thought of him kissing me, I’d never regretted that we hadn’t had the opportunity.
But what I felt then and what I felt now… they were twoverydifferent things. I didn’t just want Knox to kiss me or flirt with me. I wanted him to devour me. To strip me down to nothing and use those big, deft fingers to make me feel the sensations plaguing me since his arrival today.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Knox.”
“I want to get to know you.” His voice was low and gruff, his expression sincere.
I swallowed hard, staring right in his face, afraid to look away even as goosebumps broke out on my arms. I couldn’t tell if they were from terror or stirred by the way he was touching me, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. Either way, I didn’t like it. Or maybe I did and that was the bigger problem.
“Tell me the one place you’d see yourself if you weren’t here,” he prompted.
“College,” I blurted instantly because it was the only thing I actually thought about these days.
Knox leaned back, studying me intently. “Really?”
I nodded, forcing myself to relax. “Really. It’s where I always saw myself going until”—I waved my hand toward the house—“I wasn’t allowed to go.”
Knox seemed to consider this as he leaned in again, his hand brushing a loose lock of hair back from my face. I was terrified of what was happening, but at the same time, I didn’t want him to stop. His touch was warm, soothing. I felt alive for the first time, as though every cell in my body had woken from hibernation.
A chill danced down my spine when Knox’s fingers curled lightly behind my neck, urging me toward him. I leaned in, spurred to fight him but eager for whatever he was offering.
When his lips brushed mine, I stilled.
