feel constricted by the lack of space between them. Instead, she felt oddly content and wanted to close the distance.
“Stop calling me Sam.” That was the only thing her mind would spit out. She was confused and aching in all the right—no, wrong— places. She hated that she had an urgent need to sleep with the man she hated.
But her therapist had told her to mend old bridges, give people a first chance and a second. Come to think of it, her therapist had a lot of stuff she wanted Samantha to do.
“Yes, I do have something to add,” Samantha said. “How much is this going to cost? It’s a lot of work.”
“I’ll work up the bid and bring it by the store. Don’t worry, though—it will be less than you expect.” He was doing it again, giving her that brooding stare that made her insides churn.
It was less than one step. One step and she could ask for what she wanted. What her body needed. Feeling confident, she took that step and put her hand in his.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He tilted his head as an unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes. The gray darkened as his hand gripped hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. Yes—she was feeling better by the second. So what if her head was spinning, if the floor moved around her, if her vision wasn’t quite steady.
She touched her lips to his. It sent a shock through her body that tipped the room upside down. His lips were soft, smooth, and to Samantha’s surprise, eager. She enticed him further, parting her lips and leaning into him. When his arms wrapped around her, his lips parted and invited her in. She moaned.
His body tightened, and he jerked her away. “Have you been drinking?”
Staring at her, he kept her at arms’ length. The air whooshed out of her lungs as the memory of being discarded and unwanted slammed into her.
She twisted out of his grip. “I’m sorry, is that your business?”
“Well, no—but that explains why you’re being so hospitable all of a sudden.”
Her head was pounding again. She turned away from him and tried to make it to the chair in the living room, but the room was doing more than spinning now; it was upside down and inside out. Humiliation flared again, and she suddenly felt the need to toss up the contents of her stomach.
She turned to face him, torment cracking her voice. “You kissed me back.”
He didn’t say anything. Not. One. Word. His expression told her he didn’t care. Well, she couldn’t really tell through her clouded vision. She should’ve known better. Being rejected once meant being rejected again. God, she was stupid. So much for the high road.
She pointed to the door. “Get out!”
When he didn’t move, she rushed over to him. That was her first mistake. Her second was trying to push his steel-hard frame to the door. Shaky and off-balance, she didn’t make any progress. She pushed and shoved, but he didn’t move.
“Stop,” he said. “Please.”
Dejected and mad as hell, she rammed her whole body against him like a linebacker. It felt like a lightning bolt had struck her brain, and she keeled over in pain, holding a hand to the back of her head. “Damn it!”
Lance quickly knelt by her side. “What’s wrong?”
Another stabbing pain kept her from looking at him. “Nothing. Just get out.”
“For one second, stop being such an ass. I want to help you. What’s wrong?”
She snorted, but agony turned it into a strained whimper. “Like you care.”
He pulled her up, his hands clasped tightly around both her wrists as he held her to his body. His face was hard, his voice firm. “You’re a fool. You wouldn’t know what I care about.”
She stared into the eyes of a man she’d once known and maybe even loved. A man she had so desperately wanted, and had gotten, only to have her heart ripped from her chest. His dark stare told her she knew nothing of this man now. “Let go of me.”
He released her. She took a few
“Stop calling me Sam.” That was the only thing her mind would spit out. She was confused and aching in all the right—no, wrong— places. She hated that she had an urgent need to sleep with the man she hated.
But her therapist had told her to mend old bridges, give people a first chance and a second. Come to think of it, her therapist had a lot of stuff she wanted Samantha to do.
“Yes, I do have something to add,” Samantha said. “How much is this going to cost? It’s a lot of work.”
“I’ll work up the bid and bring it by the store. Don’t worry, though—it will be less than you expect.” He was doing it again, giving her that brooding stare that made her insides churn.
It was less than one step. One step and she could ask for what she wanted. What her body needed. Feeling confident, she took that step and put her hand in his.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He tilted his head as an unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes. The gray darkened as his hand gripped hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. Yes—she was feeling better by the second. So what if her head was spinning, if the floor moved around her, if her vision wasn’t quite steady.
She touched her lips to his. It sent a shock through her body that tipped the room upside down. His lips were soft, smooth, and to Samantha’s surprise, eager. She enticed him further, parting her lips and leaning into him. When his arms wrapped around her, his lips parted and invited her in. She moaned.
His body tightened, and he jerked her away. “Have you been drinking?”
Staring at her, he kept her at arms’ length. The air whooshed out of her lungs as the memory of being discarded and unwanted slammed into her.
She twisted out of his grip. “I’m sorry, is that your business?”
“Well, no—but that explains why you’re being so hospitable all of a sudden.”
Her head was pounding again. She turned away from him and tried to make it to the chair in the living room, but the room was doing more than spinning now; it was upside down and inside out. Humiliation flared again, and she suddenly felt the need to toss up the contents of her stomach.
She turned to face him, torment cracking her voice. “You kissed me back.”
He didn’t say anything. Not. One. Word. His expression told her he didn’t care. Well, she couldn’t really tell through her clouded vision. She should’ve known better. Being rejected once meant being rejected again. God, she was stupid. So much for the high road.
She pointed to the door. “Get out!”
When he didn’t move, she rushed over to him. That was her first mistake. Her second was trying to push his steel-hard frame to the door. Shaky and off-balance, she didn’t make any progress. She pushed and shoved, but he didn’t move.
“Stop,” he said. “Please.”
Dejected and mad as hell, she rammed her whole body against him like a linebacker. It felt like a lightning bolt had struck her brain, and she keeled over in pain, holding a hand to the back of her head. “Damn it!”
Lance quickly knelt by her side. “What’s wrong?”
Another stabbing pain kept her from looking at him. “Nothing. Just get out.”
“For one second, stop being such an ass. I want to help you. What’s wrong?”
She snorted, but agony turned it into a strained whimper. “Like you care.”
He pulled her up, his hands clasped tightly around both her wrists as he held her to his body. His face was hard, his voice firm. “You’re a fool. You wouldn’t know what I care about.”
She stared into the eyes of a man she’d once known and maybe even loved. A man she had so desperately wanted, and had gotten, only to have her heart ripped from her chest. His dark stare told her she knew nothing of this man now. “Let go of me.”
He released her. She took a few
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