“My parents listened to their hearts. And it wasn’t just luck. They worked at their marriage. They made it work. They became the person the other one could count on. I want you to count on me. I want to be the man who left the world a little better than the way I found it by fixing things with my hands. I want to be the guy who took his kids out for doughnuts on a Saturday morning so Mommy could sleep in. But one thing I don’t want to be—the man whose woman was too embarrassed to introduce him to her friends.”
She stood away from him. “You don’t love me, and I certainly don’t love you,” she told him.
“Prove it,” he challenged.
You went to bed with me because you love me, she answered, but didn’t say the words out loud.
Jeremy stepped toward her. “Tell me how you feel about me. Tell me you don’t love me.”
“I don’t love you,” she told him quickly. Firmly.
She saw that flicker of hurt touch his eyes. She knew better than this. At least she should have. She was older and supposedly wiser. Miriam had spotted the vulnerability in him. She should have known it would come to this, and avoided it. The responsibility of hurting him cut deeply, she was sick and angry with herself.
“That sounded really convincing.”
“The truth usually is.”
“Prove it’s the truth.”
She tilted her head toward him. “How?”
He held out his arms. “Come over here and kiss me.”
Sexier words had never been spoken. Desire pounded her body. “I’m not going to kiss you.” But her words lacked any defiant conviction.
“Well, how do I know that’s how you really feel?”
“I just told you how I really feel.”
She couldn’t take much more of this. She’d kiss him, prove him wrong, send him back to Oklahoma. And she’d make a vow. Never, ever get involved with someone under thirty. Forty.
“No sly stuff.”
“You assuming you’re going to lose?”
“No, I’m assuming that you’re tricky.”
“Tricky? I’m hurt you’d say that. I’ve always been straightforward with you. I want you. I want to spend more time with you, and get to know you even better. It’s you who hasn’t been honest. With yourself.”
“Oh, come over here, kiss me and get it over with.”
“Now darlin’, I can say I’ve had better offers than that.”
“Fine.” Anything to get this point proven and the whole thing over with.
She walked with slow, deliberate steps toward him. He took a seat at her dining-room table.
So her younger lover wasn’t going to make this any easier for her. She had no desire to hurt him. She wouldn’t try to lay on him a kiss that would send Jeremy reeling. She’d simply give him his kiss, all the while remaining detached.
After Oklahoma, he’d haunted her nights, but now that was over. She just had to make him believe it. And herself. She’d focus on something completely mundane, not on the sexy ruggedness of his voice.
She lowered her head, and her hair fell forward, shrouding them. At the first touch, his lips remained firm. And closed. Miriam pulled away slightly and darted her tongue along the seam of his lips, then traced the outer edges with the tip of her tongue.
Still nothing from him.
The blood pounded in her ears, her mouth grew desperate for the taste of him.
“What are you trying to do here? Why aren’t you kissing me back?”
“Maybe if you put some feeling into it. If you trusted yourself to,” his voice taunted.
“Maybe it’s because there are no feelings involved.”
“Then prove it, and kiss me like you mean it.”
Miriam braced her arms on the armrests of her very expensive mahogany dining-room chair. She felt like rolling up her sleeves and getting to work on this guy. She trailed small kisses to his ear then licked the sensitive skin below.
He sucked in a breath.
Good. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue. Jeremy moved his hands to her head and tugged her face to his. He met her lips with his mouth open. Fire shot through her body, tightening her nipples and sending a rush of feeling downward, fueling her desire.
Jeremy jerked her closer, his kiss deepening.
Off balance, she fell onto his lap, straddling his legs. The hard ridge of his cock sent another wave of warmth through her. She pushed herself closer, touching him through their scant clothes. She began to move up and down, mimicking the moves she’d make on the mattress.
Jeremy placed his hands on either side of her face and gently thrust her away. She balanced her forehead on his. Their heavy breathing filled the room. Jarringly, she sat up and shoved the hair from her face. She couldn’t pretend that was nothing—her nipples still throbbed.
Okay, it was sex. Just sex. But nothing else.
Through a sensual haze, their gazes locked. His eyes blazed like sunlit sapphires.
“You’re right,” he said, his tone flat. His expression blank. “You don’t love me.”
He’d called her bluff.
And then Jeremy Kelso pushed himself up from the chair, collected his things and walked out her door and out of her life.
That’s when she noticed the light in her kitchen was working.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IAN LOOKED AT HIS WATCH for the third time. A feeling completely foreign and strange came over him. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was until he looked at his watch yet again in the span of less than thirty seconds. That’s when the feeling wagged its smug little finger at him.
He was nervous.
Why was he nervous? He wasn’t a nervous kind of guy. People shot at him, and he didn’t blink at that.
But he knew the reason. He was edgy because his time with Ava was over. He’d typed the last word of the book last night. This morning he’d scanned the last picture and emailed everything to his sister. He expected to hear from her at any moment. But he wasn’t worried about her thoughts on the book. He knew that Sex by the Book—the new title—was stunning. Ava had created something amazing. But…
He’d faced guns, angry officers of the law and death, but none of that compared with facing Ava when she arrived. He’d said goodbye to a few women in his day, but they’d all been like him, looking for some contemporary company.
And he’d never been in love with any of them.
In fact, falling in love had never entered his mind. What the hell?
Had the word love just charged into his head? Twice? If it had, he planned to make it exit. Love, if he even believed it existed, didn’t mix with anyone with the last name Cole.
But then he thought of the beautiful woman on her way to him. Damn. He’d done it. Or she’d done it. Whoever it was, he’d fallen in love with Ava Simms.
He’d been an idiot not to see it coming. How could he not spend all that time with someone as witty, smart and sexy as Ava and not fall in love with her?
Yes, it was definitely time to go.
Then he saw her walk through the door of the elegant restaurant where he’d booked a table for them to celebrate the completion of the book. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the most expensive china and silverware graced the table.
The perfect setting for a breakup.
She smiled at the hostess in greeting. He’d miss that smile aimed in his direction, Ava’s blond hair flowing freely around her face the way he liked. Damn, she was so beautiful. And challenging. She made him wish for things. Things he could never have.
It was right to end it now.
Ava removed her sunglasses and he watched as her beautiful green eyes scanned the area. Their gazes met. Held.
Those emerald eyes of hers communicated a wealth of feeling. Each intriguing. But the emotion that called to him, drew him in, was the promise he saw lingering in their lush depths. A promise he couldn’t take her up on.