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He took steps towards the red Dutch oven sitting atop a trivet and lifted the lid with a nearby tea towel. ‘Damn, it looks just as awesome as it smells.’
‘It should, I put a lot of love into it.’ Reaching up on her tippy toes, she endeavoured to pluck bowls from the overhead cupboard.
Connor liked the fact that he was going to eat food with her love in it. Yum. ‘Here, let me.’ He came in behind her and, reaching with ease, plucked two bowls out.
She turned to find herself flush up against him, and the look in her beautiful green eyes ….
Danger, Will Robinson ….
With the Lost in Space catchphrase ringing loudly in his head, Connor knew he should’ve stepped back, away from the only woman who’d ever made him feel so much, but something rid him of the ability to do it. And then she did that sensual thing, where the corner of her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, and she coyly looked up at him beneath long dark lashes. The need to possess her sparked, fired and scorched his insides. Oh god help him. Time screeched to a grinding halt, and the entire world faded away. There was nothing to concern himself with, nothing to explain, nothing to do except be present with her. It was just him and her, the real them, held captive in this intensely profound moment. His heart was beating like boxers’ fists against his rib cage, as if trying to break free, so it could finally get to hers. Oh, how he wanted to tell her everything – how he felt about her, how he wanted her, how it was his fault her parents were on the road that night, about how he couldn’t give her all that she wanted, so she could make her own mind up about him, with all the knowledge she was entitled to, to be able to make an informed decision. And by god he was just about to do all of that, and more, when he was literally saved from making a complete fool of himself by the bell.
The echoing chime sounded from the direction of the oven.
Their bubble burst.
She pointed to it. ‘I better go grab the dinner rolls out before they burn.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Mm-hmm’ was all he could muster.
With a tiny coy smile, she ducked beneath his arm, and he watched her sashay away from him. Out of his reach. Thank god. For her sake, and his. Because he didn’t have very much self-control left when it came to her.
Almost none.
And that was dangerous.
‘Do you want me to help with anything?’ he asked, all the while thinking about how badly he wanted to tear her clothes off so he could make love to her until the sun came up, and then some.
‘No, all good, Gunn, you just pull a chair up and I’ll bring your bowl over.’ She didn’t look at him as she spoke, was instead busy dishing up, but the slight tremor in her voice told him she was feeling some of the heat that he sure was.
Hopefully, every single one of the flames firing from his heart right now was warming her skin in the most arousing, irresistible of ways. He wanted her to feel him, deep down inside, where she’d buried the memories of them long ago, along with how she’d felt about him that night. Because that, right there, in his strong opinion, was the sexiest caress of all. Heart to heart. Soul to soul. Without a single brush of skin on skin. That was the depth of a true deep and meaningful connection without even uttering a word.
Although he was wrapped up in her, nice and tight, Connor was glad for the small reprieve from her all-pervading gaze, so he could pull himself into some sort of line. He was a respectful man, with a raw hunger, yes, but an honourable man all the same. Nothing was going to happen tonight or the next night, or the night after that. Nor would it while she was here all alone, for almost a week, while Jack and Shea were off on their honeymoon. She’d made it very clear she was going back to London. He was acutely aware that he was staying here. If he tasted her sweetness again, if he heard her honeyed whispers and her husky cries of pleasure, if he had her in his arms, her soft skin silky against his, he wouldn’t be able to go without her ever again.
So that was that.
He needed to get a grip on the reality of the situation before someone got hurt.
And it was over his dead body that he’d ever hurt her.
CHAPTER
15
While slowly serving their dinner onto the good dinnerware Shea had insisted they make use of as she’d walked out the door with Amaya on her hip – the dinnerware that had brought her so hazardously near to Connor, so close she could see his quickened pulse beat in the thick of his neck and could feel the strong beat of his hastened heart against her hand – Samantha took quiet deep breaths in a bid to slow her own racing heart. Standing there, pressed up against him with nowhere to go, with his eyes possessing hers and nothing else in the world mattering for those few beautiful, shared breaths, it was as if the dark clouds that had been shrouding her tortured heart had pulled back, bowing out to the brightest blue sky she had ever seen with far-reaching horizons that allowed her to breath all of him into her. Swept up by the force of him, before she’d even had time to stop herself, her buoyed soul had drifted oh so effortlessly into his. And in that enthralling moment, between reality and fantasy, between her in breath and out breath, she’d felt the reunion of two hearts, two minds, two bodies that had for one magical night, so long ago, beat and burnt as one. She knew in that breath-held second that she needed to get away from him, before she went to a place that they’d never return unscathed from.
Her life, and his, were different, separate, thousands of miles apart.
She needed to let go of the fantasy of there ever being a them.
When she turned with their plates in hand, somewhat recomposed, he wasn’t sitting at the table like she’d suggested. Instead, he was standing, staring off into the distance through the bay windows, his arms crossed and his stance wide. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about, what he was feeling after their fleeting reconnection, what he would have done if she’d reached up on her tippy toes and kissed him in that shared, sequestered moment.
‘Here we are,’ she said as brightly as she could while placing the bowls down. ‘Dinner is served.’ She plastered a painted-on smile to his over-the-shoulder regard of her, before going back to grab the bowl of warm, buttered bread rolls.
‘Wow, Sammie, this looks delicious, you’ve truly gone and outdone yourself.’ The scraping of his chair sounded. ‘And I’m absolutely starving.’
So am I, for you, she thought while feeling a little risqué.
‘I wouldn’t say I’ve outdone myself, but thanks,’ she said, pulling the chair out beside him, then sitting. ‘It’s an easy meal to whack together.’
