seen each other in over twenty years, Manning! We don’t have anything!”
“The hell we don’t,” he growled through clenched teeth.
Taylor held his flashing gaze for a moment, then looked down to where the fly of his pants strained against his raging erection. As her face flamed, she turned away to stare out the dark window, her chest heaving as she fought for composure. She wished they didn’t have an hourlong ride ahead of them. She wished they were already back in Atlanta, back at her hotel. She needed to get out of this limo. She needed to put this night—this dangerous encounter—in her rearview mirror.
Suddenly Manning was in front of her, kneeling on the floor with her sandals.
As he reached for her foot, she tensed. “I can do that.”
“I took them off,” he snapped. “I’ll put them back on.”
Taylor didn’t argue. She could feel the heat and frustration radiating off him, but his hands were gentle as he eased her feet into the sandals and carefully refastened the buckles, his touch sending goose bumps racing across her skin.
Sullenly she watched him, observing the sheer breadth of his wide shoulders and his powerfully muscled arms that only hinted at the brute strength he possessed. This wasn’t the sweet boy of her youth. This was a grown man who could make her lose control with one word, could make her come with just a kiss. This was a dominant alpha male who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
“We have unfinished business, Taylor.”
The low, resolute words sent a frisson of panic through her. She swallowed tightly. “Manning—”
He lifted his head. Bright headlights from passing vehicles penetrated the tinted glass to reveal his stormy expression. “You came here—”
“As a favor to an old friend who teaches at Emory.”
“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” Manning challenged, his eyes glittering up at her, pinning her to the seat.
Taylor stared at him. She could feel her heart pounding, the blood rushing past her eardrums. She felt weak and vulnerable, as fragile as the strings on her violin.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Manning,” she whispered, trying to summon the righteous anger that had fortified her during their years apart. “We’re not kids anymore. We have our own lives—”
“Do you love him?”
“What?”
“Aidan. You said earlier that he loves you. Do you love him ?”
There shouldn’t have been any hesitation. She shouldn’t have had to think about it. The answer should have rolled right off her tongue. But it didn’t, and that troubled her almost as much as the betrayal she’d just committed.
“Of course I love Aidan,” she said defiantly. “I’ve been with him for three years. He understands me, and I understand him. We’re good together.”
Manning was silent, his dark eyes scanning her face like a searchlight, seeking buried truths and secrets.
Taylor waited, breath stalled painfully in her lungs.
After an excruciating eternity, Manning rose from the floor, returned to the other end of the seat and stared out the window.
They rode back to Atlanta in complete silence.
10
U pon returning to her hotel room, Taylor peeled off her clothes and took a long shower. The water was near scalding, pounding at her body and washing dirt and sweat from her pores. She wished it were as easy to rinse away the guilt and shame she was feeling. She needed a spiritual cleansing, like a sinner seeking absolution for her sins. But as she stood beneath the hot water with her eyes closed, it was hard to think of repentance when she could still feel Manning touching her, stroking her, plunging his fingers deep inside her body. It was hard to consign herself to perdition when she’d just experienced the ultimate nirvana.
When she emerged from the shower, she slipped on a clean white robe provided by the hotel. The plush fabric absorbed the moisture from her skin and enveloped her like a
“The hell we don’t,” he growled through clenched teeth.
Taylor held his flashing gaze for a moment, then looked down to where the fly of his pants strained against his raging erection. As her face flamed, she turned away to stare out the dark window, her chest heaving as she fought for composure. She wished they didn’t have an hourlong ride ahead of them. She wished they were already back in Atlanta, back at her hotel. She needed to get out of this limo. She needed to put this night—this dangerous encounter—in her rearview mirror.
Suddenly Manning was in front of her, kneeling on the floor with her sandals.
As he reached for her foot, she tensed. “I can do that.”
“I took them off,” he snapped. “I’ll put them back on.”
Taylor didn’t argue. She could feel the heat and frustration radiating off him, but his hands were gentle as he eased her feet into the sandals and carefully refastened the buckles, his touch sending goose bumps racing across her skin.
Sullenly she watched him, observing the sheer breadth of his wide shoulders and his powerfully muscled arms that only hinted at the brute strength he possessed. This wasn’t the sweet boy of her youth. This was a grown man who could make her lose control with one word, could make her come with just a kiss. This was a dominant alpha male who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
“We have unfinished business, Taylor.”
The low, resolute words sent a frisson of panic through her. She swallowed tightly. “Manning—”
He lifted his head. Bright headlights from passing vehicles penetrated the tinted glass to reveal his stormy expression. “You came here—”
“As a favor to an old friend who teaches at Emory.”
“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” Manning challenged, his eyes glittering up at her, pinning her to the seat.
Taylor stared at him. She could feel her heart pounding, the blood rushing past her eardrums. She felt weak and vulnerable, as fragile as the strings on her violin.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Manning,” she whispered, trying to summon the righteous anger that had fortified her during their years apart. “We’re not kids anymore. We have our own lives—”
“Do you love him?”
“What?”
“Aidan. You said earlier that he loves you. Do you love him ?”
There shouldn’t have been any hesitation. She shouldn’t have had to think about it. The answer should have rolled right off her tongue. But it didn’t, and that troubled her almost as much as the betrayal she’d just committed.
“Of course I love Aidan,” she said defiantly. “I’ve been with him for three years. He understands me, and I understand him. We’re good together.”
Manning was silent, his dark eyes scanning her face like a searchlight, seeking buried truths and secrets.
Taylor waited, breath stalled painfully in her lungs.
After an excruciating eternity, Manning rose from the floor, returned to the other end of the seat and stared out the window.
They rode back to Atlanta in complete silence.
10
U pon returning to her hotel room, Taylor peeled off her clothes and took a long shower. The water was near scalding, pounding at her body and washing dirt and sweat from her pores. She wished it were as easy to rinse away the guilt and shame she was feeling. She needed a spiritual cleansing, like a sinner seeking absolution for her sins. But as she stood beneath the hot water with her eyes closed, it was hard to think of repentance when she could still feel Manning touching her, stroking her, plunging his fingers deep inside her body. It was hard to consign herself to perdition when she’d just experienced the ultimate nirvana.
When she emerged from the shower, she slipped on a clean white robe provided by the hotel. The plush fabric absorbed the moisture from her skin and enveloped her like a
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