with marked impatience. “Where should I meet you?”
Her desire to have an escape vehicle aggravated him, which he didn’t hide with his curtness. “Mezaluna work for you? I’ll pick you up.”
“It’s gone. The Torettos moved a few years ago. They wanted a quiet little restaurant, so when things got busy around here, they moved on.”
Rio Penasquitos hadn’t even been a spot on the map when he’d left, but it had grown into a quaint tourist destination and vacation spot for the wealthy. That was due in part to his mother, a trophy wife who’d returned to her home town to raise her only child and brought media attention with her. “Why don’t you pick me up at the bed and breakfast,” he challenged, “and we’ll figure it out from there.”
Her foot lifted, her leg moving restlessly. His gaze narrowed on that telltale movement.
“Okay,” she said finally. “What time?”
“Seven?” He remembered the shop closed at five. Expectation thrummed through him, a heated awareness that made a joke of the casual interaction they were pretending this was. Tension was strung tight between them, vibrating in the air with the energy of an approaching thunderstorm.
She wasn’t indifferent to him. He wondered if he’d possibly ruined her, too. Just a little. While he couldn’t imagine any man not taking the time to savor her body for hours, he knew damn well that no one could possibly love her as completely as he once had. Even the man he was today was incapable of that depth of emotion and connection. She’d killed the innocence in him that had made it possible to love a woman without any thought of self-preservation. He’d been wide open when she cut his heart out and scars had formed, creating a thick shield that he couldn’t get past and no woman could get through.
“I’ll see you then.” She backed up toward the garage. “You look good, Miguel.”
“So do you.” Good? She looked edible. His mouth was damn near watering with the anticipation of tasting her again. If there hadn’t been a dozen auto technicians around, he would have kissed off waiting until seven and taken what he wanted now. As it was, there was no conveniently private place on the lot to eat her sweet pussy, which is exactly what he’d do once he got his lips on her.
“I’m glad you came by,” she said softly, holding his gaze.
He bared his teeth in a smile. He didn’t want to be placated. He wanted a rushed dinner followed by unrushed sex that would pale in comparison to his exaggerated recollections. Then he’d leave the past behind where it belonged. “So... did you end up missing me now and then?”
“Sure.” She turned her back to him again. “See you at seven.”
* * *
Faith barely made it to the dispatcher’s office before her composure broke. Leaning against her father’s desk, she gasped for breath, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
Miguel Santos. Even after all these years, his effect on her was like getting hit by a bus.
“Hey.”
She looked at her eldest brother filling the doorway. “Hey.”
“John said Miguel was here.”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t fair that his dark sexuality was even more potent now than it had been in high school. He was businessman for God’s sake. A “corporate raider,” although he called what he did “activist shareholding.” He should have a paunch. And thinning hair. Instead he was a delectably mature version of the quarterback he’d been in high school. His dark T-shirt hadn’t hidden his beautifully defined biceps or his lean waist. She bet he still had washboard abs and a heavily muscled back. And the rest of him…
Jesus. One look at him and she swore she could feel him pushing inside her. She remembered that all too well. The searing pleasure of his entry. The sensation of utter surrender.
Russell stepped into the office, his blue eyes dark with concern. “What did he want?”
Blowing out a shaky breath, she moved to one of the two chairs
Her desire to have an escape vehicle aggravated him, which he didn’t hide with his curtness. “Mezaluna work for you? I’ll pick you up.”
“It’s gone. The Torettos moved a few years ago. They wanted a quiet little restaurant, so when things got busy around here, they moved on.”
Rio Penasquitos hadn’t even been a spot on the map when he’d left, but it had grown into a quaint tourist destination and vacation spot for the wealthy. That was due in part to his mother, a trophy wife who’d returned to her home town to raise her only child and brought media attention with her. “Why don’t you pick me up at the bed and breakfast,” he challenged, “and we’ll figure it out from there.”
Her foot lifted, her leg moving restlessly. His gaze narrowed on that telltale movement.
“Okay,” she said finally. “What time?”
“Seven?” He remembered the shop closed at five. Expectation thrummed through him, a heated awareness that made a joke of the casual interaction they were pretending this was. Tension was strung tight between them, vibrating in the air with the energy of an approaching thunderstorm.
She wasn’t indifferent to him. He wondered if he’d possibly ruined her, too. Just a little. While he couldn’t imagine any man not taking the time to savor her body for hours, he knew damn well that no one could possibly love her as completely as he once had. Even the man he was today was incapable of that depth of emotion and connection. She’d killed the innocence in him that had made it possible to love a woman without any thought of self-preservation. He’d been wide open when she cut his heart out and scars had formed, creating a thick shield that he couldn’t get past and no woman could get through.
“I’ll see you then.” She backed up toward the garage. “You look good, Miguel.”
“So do you.” Good? She looked edible. His mouth was damn near watering with the anticipation of tasting her again. If there hadn’t been a dozen auto technicians around, he would have kissed off waiting until seven and taken what he wanted now. As it was, there was no conveniently private place on the lot to eat her sweet pussy, which is exactly what he’d do once he got his lips on her.
“I’m glad you came by,” she said softly, holding his gaze.
He bared his teeth in a smile. He didn’t want to be placated. He wanted a rushed dinner followed by unrushed sex that would pale in comparison to his exaggerated recollections. Then he’d leave the past behind where it belonged. “So... did you end up missing me now and then?”
“Sure.” She turned her back to him again. “See you at seven.”
* * *
Faith barely made it to the dispatcher’s office before her composure broke. Leaning against her father’s desk, she gasped for breath, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
Miguel Santos. Even after all these years, his effect on her was like getting hit by a bus.
“Hey.”
She looked at her eldest brother filling the doorway. “Hey.”
“John said Miguel was here.”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t fair that his dark sexuality was even more potent now than it had been in high school. He was businessman for God’s sake. A “corporate raider,” although he called what he did “activist shareholding.” He should have a paunch. And thinning hair. Instead he was a delectably mature version of the quarterback he’d been in high school. His dark T-shirt hadn’t hidden his beautifully defined biceps or his lean waist. She bet he still had washboard abs and a heavily muscled back. And the rest of him…
Jesus. One look at him and she swore she could feel him pushing inside her. She remembered that all too well. The searing pleasure of his entry. The sensation of utter surrender.
Russell stepped into the office, his blue eyes dark with concern. “What did he want?”
Blowing out a shaky breath, she moved to one of the two chairs
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