Adam’s imprint wasn’t only on the walls and ceilings and floors of the home he’d restored, it was also on every piece of furniture and book and framed painting. She couldn’t take a breath without breathing him in, too.

Where pleasure had swamped her all night long, morning now brought panic rushing in to replace it. She needed to get out of his bed, and fast—before she got to the point where she never wanted to get out of it at all.

Kerry had shifted less than an inch away from Adam when his arm came around her waist, and he tugged her so that she was lying across his chest. Chest to chest, she could feel his heart beating against hers. But it wasn’t his nakedness, or hers, that made hers beat faster.

It was the smile on his lips, and in his eyes, that stole her breath. And sent an even deeper terror racing through her. Because she liked his smile—loved his smile—so much that she realized she wanted it to be the first thing she saw when she woke up every morning for the rest of her life.


“Good morning.”

She put everything she had into hiding her panic from him, but a frown had already begun to steal away his smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She made herself smile, hoping it reached her eyes the way his had. “I just need to get going to make it to my office on time.”

He continued to frown, but instead of pushing her, he simply said, “I’ll make you breakfast first.”

The words I’ll make you breakfast shouldn’t have her heart twisting up in her chest. She was being ridiculous. Melodramatic. Clearly, the endless hours of mind-blowing sex actually had blown out a whole host of her brain cells, and now she was functioning on less than a full set.

She’d let the house—and Adam’s amazing kisses—sweep her away yesterday. But in the clear light of a new day, his easy offer to make her breakfast told her without a shadow of a doubt that she hadn’t been nearly careful enough about not blurring the lines.

Not to mention the fact that it had felt way too much like they were making love last night when it should have been nothing more than naughty, wicked sex.

The last thing she wanted to do was move off his deliciously hard—and aroused—body. But she couldn’t stay here and keep having sex with him. Not when every kiss, every touch, would only drag her deeper into the danger zone.

She could feel him fighting with himself about letting go of her, but finally her feet were on the floor again, and she was holding a blanket in front of her, even though there was nothing he hadn’t seen by now.

Kerry meant to say, Thanks for offering to make breakfast, but I really do need to go, only somehow the words that actually came out were, “We can’t do this again.”

“What the hell?” He was out of bed and standing in front of her so fast she nearly stumbled, and he had to reach out to steady her. “You’re calling our arrangement quits?”

“No.” She couldn’t do that. Wasn’t strong enough to actually end what had become the most magical, wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. “Just this. Being here. At your house. Or at mine.”

He ran a hand over his face, through his hair. “I didn’t get enough sleep to understand what you’re talking about.”

“Hotels. We agreed to meet in hotels. Neutral ground without all of our things, without personal stuff around.”

“Fine.” He bit the word out, hard and fast. “We’ll make sure we stay in hotels from now on.”


“Great,” he said, even though he didn’t look like he thought it was great at all.

God, having this conversation shouldn’t make her chest clench. And she shouldn’t dread getting out the rest of it. But they couldn’t move forward until they got one other big thing cleared up.

“Yesterday, at the house, I didn’t exactly give you a chance to say no to helping me with it.”

“There was no gun to my head. I want to restore it. You want to live in it. So what’s the problem?”

She’d seen Adam flirt. She’d seen him tease. She’d seen him care. She’d even seen him angry at her sister. But she’d never seen him—or felt him—be angry at her before. And because it stung, she stung back.

“The problem is that you and I will have to work together on the house.”

“You’ve changed your mind about working with me?”

“No. You’re the best. Of course I want to work with you.” She was as frustrated as he was, couldn’t he see that? She sighed, knowing she was doing this, saying things all wrong. “But if working on the house together ends up extending past all of this”—she gestured to the bed where they’d had such wild, fabulous sex—“it might get messy.”

“You like having sex with me, right?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. You know I do.”

“Good, because I like having sex with you. And I can’t see that changing anytime soon.”

“But what if you—” She stopped herself, hoping he hadn’t noticed her slip. “But what if some reason pops up where we both decide we’re done having sex, and then we have to keep seeing each other because of the house?”

“You’re worrying about nothing, Kerry. We’re both adults. It’s not going to get messy.”

“So you’re saying that you think we can keep things totally compartmentalized, and that the sex we’re currently meeting up for in hotels will in no way impact the work we’ll do together on the house?”

His dark eyes held hers for a long moment before he finally said, through what sounded like gritted teeth, “Sure.”

“Great,” she forced herself to say past the lump in her throat. “I’m glad we’ve talked through any potential issues.” Through sheer force of will, she finally managed to move away. “I should get my dress from the car so that I can head out.”

“I’ll get it.” His words were more clipped than usual. “Go take a shower. Your clothes will be here when you’re done.”

He had on a pair of jeans and was walking out the door before she could figure out how to say she’d had a great time with him the night before and was sorry that she’d made such a mess of the morning. Which, she figured as she headed into the bathroom, was probably all for the best, given that she couldn’t get anything right this morning anyway.

* * *

Adam needed to get a grip.

But, damn it, the conversation he and Kerry had just had in his bedroom had thoroughly pissed him off.

He yanked open the door to his garage, hard enough that it nearly came off its hinges, then did the same to his car door.

Why did Kerry always have to look for problems?

He grabbed her dress, her shoes and bag, but left her bra and panties because those were unsalvageable.

Why couldn’t she just go with the flow?

He slammed his car door shut.

Why couldn’t she just let her hair down and have fun for once in her life?

He slammed the door to the garage shut, too.

Why did she keep assuming he was going to be a jerk about everything?

He headed back through the entryway and kitchen, still fuming as he headed up the stairs.