And when she’d told him to do something about it, the only natural conclusion he could come up with was to kiss her, to see where this would go.
Now, her heart beat wildly against his chest, and he raised the back of her sweater so he could feel her skin. She was still as soft as he remembered, and he wanted more.
She moaned against his mouth, nipping at his lips. He groaned, tunneled his fingers in her hair and backed her up to the sofa, both of them falling on it. He held tight to her, keeping his balance as she landed on top of him.
She raised up, her eyes glazed pools of deep blue.
He caught the indecision in her eyes.
“Don’t think about all the reasons we shouldn’t. Just think about how good it feels between us, Carolina.”
But he could tell he’d already lost her, because the heat of a moment ago had been replaced by icy coolness in her eyes.
She palmed his chest and lifted up. “Seems to me we had this same conversation eight years ago. It didn’t work out so well for me back then. And I don’t need this distraction.” She pushed off the sofa and stood.
He swung his legs around and sat up, dragging his fingers through his hair.
Things had been going so well. She’d been into it, until she’d let her brain kick in.
He got up and grabbed his clothes, pulling his pants and his boots back on.
“Sorry,” she said, turning away and heading toward the kitchen. “But this isn’t going to work.”
He put on his shirt and went to the kitchen, turning her around to face him.
“You know, there’s no logical reason for the two of us not to be together.”
She arched a brow. “Seriously? I can think of several. One, I have a ridiculous amount of work to do, and having a relationship doesn’t fit into my life right now.”
He put his hands on her arms, could feel how tense she was. “I don’t think we need to have a relationship, but sex is a great tension release.”
She pulled away and grabbed a tea bag. “That’s the oldest excuse in the book for a guy to use to get a girl to have sex with him. You need some new lines.”
“Look, Carolina. We’ve known each other a long time. We’re compatible. I’m a reasonable guy and I know what you’re up against as far as work and deadlines. I’m working, too. But all work and no play makes for one jumbled-up package of nerve endings and no outlet.
“I can get out of your way when necessary, and I’m not going to expect anything from you other than fun and sex. I’m the perfect guy for you right now.”
Carolina stared at him, almost not able to form words. She’d come over here to cool herself off after nearly throwing caution to the wind and repeating the same mistake she’d made in college. Fortunately, Drew’s idiotic words had cooled her down considerably. “You really have no clue, do you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, and that’s the problem. You never did.” She walked over and grabbed his coat, jabbed it in his chest and pushed him toward the door. “Thanks for a great day, but really, Drew, it’s time for you to go.”
“I said something to upset you.”
“Really? You? I find that hard to believe.” She opened the door. “Good night, Drew.”
He turned to her, looking like he really had no idea. “This isn’t over, Carolina.”
She shut the door in his face, embarrassed that she’d nearly fallen into bed with Drew.
Again.
What was it about that man that made her want to get naked and have sex with him? What was it that made her so easily forget her vow to hate him for what he’d done to her all those years ago? He’d humiliated her once, and yet she was still wildly attracted to him. Today he’d made her forget that she had all these plans for her future, plans that hinged on her having laser focus and tunnel vision.
Only one thing in her life was important right now, and it wasn’t sex and a complicated relationship with a man that, despite all her protestations and determination, still seemed to linger in her heart and all over her body after all these years.
Even now she could smell him on her, and as she took a deep breath, lust filled her and she regretted throwing him out. Right now they could be having hot, passionate sex.
He was right about one thing—she was tense, and she could use a release. Her body pulsed with need and she’d been so close to having him, to feeling his hands and his mouth on her again.
Would that have been so bad?
She dragged her fingers through her hair. God, yes, it would have.
He weakened her resolve. He weakened her—everything. As strong as she knew she was, she became nothing more than a quivering mass of . . . female whenever she was around him.
And that just wasn’t acceptable.
She needed to steer clear of Drew Hogan, not only for the next few months, but forever.
NINE
THE QUIET OF THE HOLIDAYS—AFTER CAROLINA HAD gotten Drew out of her house, if not out of her head—had given her the opportunity to make some serious progress on her line. She’d buried herself in work, mainly because she needed to, but also because she wanted to forget the mistake she’d almost made.
Again.
He touched her so easily, slid past her defenses as if that hurt had never happened. Though it was her hurt, not his, so she had to stop blaming him for how he made her feel.
And if it was light and simple to him, again, that was on her. He wanted her, and she supposed she should feel flattered instead of insulted.
As she rolled her head around her neck to get the kinks out, and lifted her shoulders up and down, she realized Drew had been right on one count.
She was tense, could feel it in every muscle as she worked on hour ten of this day, which had started far too early and would likely keep going until she couldn’t see the thread or her eyes grew so tired the lines on the fabric patterns started to run together.
Today she was in her work studio, a space she rented so she and her assistants could sew and bring in the models for fittings. She was fortunate that she’d made a good living working as a designer for David Faber, and that she had family money to start her business. But that’s as far as the family money went. Now she was on her own, and she wanted to succeed—or fail—on her own merits. She didn’t want to rely on Preston money year after year to fund what others would think of as a hobby project. The pressure was on.