Page 16 of Tangled in Temptation

Timothy’s brow furrowed. “Complicated how?”

He was killing me. I didn’t know how to answer his questions. I could tell he was probing, wanting me to pour my heart out while he got to protect his own.

“Timothy, things between us got complicated,” I admitted. “I take responsibility for that. I came on too strong, and I’m sorry for that. You’re an attractive man, and I got caught up.”

His eyes met mine, an intensity burning within them. “Do you seriously believe this is all on you?” He asked it like he was angry. “You don’t think that maybe I had a hard time staying away from you because you’re a beautiful, alluring woman?”

I felt my heart race. “It’s not that simple. We both played a part in this, but I should have remained a professional. I let things get personal, and that was a mistake. I can’t go around sleeping with my clients. That’s not the reputation I want.”

Timothy’s expression softened, and he reached out, his fingers grazing mine. “Catherine, I have strong feelings for you. I can’t deny that.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the admission, my internal defenses waging war against the vulnerability that threatened to surface. I told myself it was just lust, nothing more. But as the conversation unfolded, the gravitational pull between us became undeniable, drawing us closer until the air crackled with tension.

I couldn’t. I could not let myself get drawn back into him. He had a way of breaking through all my defenses. He made me want something that was never going to happen. I understood he might be attracted to me, but he still had some issues to deal with.

“I want to stay your friend,” I finally said.

Timothy nodded. “I feel the same way. I appreciate your friendship. I can honestly say I don’t have a lot of friends. I don’t trust easily. You are someone who seems to get it.”

Yet the magnetic pull proved stronger than our feeble attempts at restraint. He slowly inched toward me.

“I understand,” I whispered, almost forgetting what we were even talking about. “I’m the same way.”

“I think we have a lot in common, Catherine,” he whispered. I realized he was mere inches from me. The inevitable was about to happen if I didn’t walk away and stop it. But I didn’t want to stop it.

The distance between us evaporated as our lips met in a kiss that defied reason. It was passionate, a collision of desire and pent-up emotions. His hands grabbed my hips and jerked me against him. Our tongues were in a passionate duel for dominance.

We broke apart when breathing became a necessity, the intensity of the kiss leaving us both heady with desire. However, beneath the desire, the fear and uncertainty still lingered.

“Timothy,” I murmured, my voice little more than a whisper. “I—we—can’t just...”

He kissed me again, cutting off any protest. It wasn’t like I was really protesting. I was more than happy to be in his arms. The taste and smell of him were so familiar. My heart ached being close to him. My hands ran into his hair, messing it up as I held his head close to mine.

Timothy’s hands roamed over me, like he was trying to touch every part of me at once. We were both frantic, just like we had been that first day. Suddenly, he lifted me up, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He walked toward the nearest soft surface he could find—my new sofa.

He gently laid me on the couch, the fabric cool against my heated skin as he came down over me. His heavy body was like a warm blanket covering me.

His hands moved reverently, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of me. The intensity of his gaze, the tenderness of his touch, it was all overwhelming. His lips were close, nearly brushing mine but not quite. Our eyes met, and an unspoken agreement passed between us in the thick silence that hung in the air.

With that silent consent, Timothy kissed me again, stealing every breath from my lungs and every thought from my head. All I could feel was him: the pressure of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth that radiated between us.

Chapter Eight

Catherine

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I SURRENDERED MYSELF in his arms, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw while our breaths mingled in the tiny space between us.

“Catherine,” he murmured into the crook of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. The word was barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

His hand moved under my shirt, slowly pushing it up and cupping my breast through my bra.

An electric jolt ran through my body at his touch, and I gasped, arching my back. His mouth was on me in an instant, the sensation of his lips against mine enough to make me dizzy with desire. He took his time as though savoring the moment, the feel of me under his expert touch.

I clung to him, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders as I lost myself in him. In a flash, he pulled back, one knee between my legs and the other resting on the floor. His hands went to the button of my jeans and quickly undid it, jerking them down. I kicked off my shoes, giving him easy access to pull my pants off. He reached for my hand and pulled me to a sitting position and quickly jerked my shirt over my head.

“Sit back,” he ordered.