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He was so bronze, so broad, so breathtaking, and when she finally dragged her gaze away her knees wobbled a tad.
He snickered. ‘Are you sure you want me to get dressed?'
Damn him, he'd called her out on her faux pas. A gentleman would've ignored her slip-up. Then again, since when had Nick been a gentleman?
Jacaranda's resident bad boy had girls swooning and fathers reaching for shotguns since he hit puberty and she was a fool for expecting anything other than bluntness from the guy who'd once rocked her world.
'Nick, don't.' She held up a hand, about as effective as a cockatoo trying to ward off a charging emu.
'Don't what?' He stared at her hand as if he wanted to grab it and nibble on it, and she quickly lowered it. 'Don't remember the past? Don't admire the gorgeous woman you've become?'
The heat in his eyes scorched her, captivated her, held her spellbound.
'Or don't do something crazy like this?'
Before she could blink, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her.
Their lips clashed in a frantic, hungry union, a fusion of tongues, a meshing of desire that left her reeling.
She should've been immune to him after ten years apart. She should've pushed him away and laughed it off as a quick reacquainting peck between friends for old times' sake.
Should've, would've, could've, as she stood on tiptoes, leaned into him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on as if her life depended on it.
The kisses they'd shared as teenagers had been exploratory, tender, and achingly poignant. There was nothing remotely sweet or gentle about his mouth crushing hers now.
As he softened the kiss, plying her with a skilled precision he'd never had as a young man, her resolve to push him away melted, as it had ten years earlier when she'd acted on all the bottled-up feelings she'd harboured for him.
She'd idolised him through her teens and he hadn't glanced in her direction until she'd turned eighteen, thrown herself at him, and been wonderfully surprised when the bad boy of Jacaranda had returned her interest. They'd gone steady for six months before things had come to a head at home and she'd been forced to flee.
She hadn't told Nick about her humiliation, wanting him to need her for who she was, not following her out of some warped sense of pity. So she'd tried to convince him to run away with her.
She'd failed. Not just failed, he'd pushed her away with a callousness that shattered her heart.
So what the heck was she doing now, kissing him like this?
As her common sense belatedly kicked in, Nick broke the kiss, untangling her hands from behind his neck, and glared at her as if she'd been the one to instigate the kiss in the first place.
'Don't expect me to be sorry for that,' he said, running a hand through his dark wavy hair, sending it in all directions.
'I gave up expecting anything from you a long time ago.'
She shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, while her insides churned and she ran a finger along her bottom lip, wondering if it looked as bruised as it felt.
Nick had kissed her…and she'd liked it.
So much for being an Ice Princess. Her poised veneer had melted the moment he lip-locked her.
She needed to re-establish distance so they could do business.
Starting now.
Chapter Two
Nick muttered a curse and turned away from Britt before he made another blunder and hauled her back into his arms.
She felt good, better than he remembered, and he had a damn good memory when it came to this woman.
She'd been the one for him.
