‘Oh, you don’t have to worry about me, Jensen. Ice princesses are experts at maintaining a dignified silence.’
My jaw gritted. ‘I don’t want that either.’
Her head tilted, her hazel eyes mocking as they met mine. ‘Let me guess, you want a cosy conversation by the roaring fire?’
No, I wanted to growl.
Conversation could come way later, after we stopped playing games and she showed me her true self. Long after we established a baseline of trust and she let me surrender to her from my rightful place at her feet. Long after I’d undressed her again and given her everything she wanted from me, which I hoped involved long hours spent between her thighs.
Then I wouldn’t mind a conversation or two with her. A chance to discover what else lay beneath those dense layers besides the vulnerability I’d occasionally caught glimpses of yesterday.
Since even the thought of that was making me hard again, I forced a shrug. ‘If that’s what you want. But first you really should get out of those clothes. And you can have the bedroom. I insist.’
The barest hint of a smile ghosted her lips. ‘Oh, you do, do you?’
I nodded. ‘Call it my peace offering for offending you.’
A layer of iciness receded, and something tight eased inside me. ‘Where are you going to sleep? Don’t tell me you’re going to take the sofa. It’s barely long enough to accommodate me, never mind you.’ She waved a hand at me.
I shrugged again. ‘There’s an air mattress around here somewhere. Or I can use the sleeping bag. I’ll be fine.’
She didn’t answer, but her gaze swung to the bed and she approached it. A smile playing over full, sensual lips, she sat down and dragged her fingers over the comforter. I bit back a groan, locked my knees as a punch of lust knocked the breath out of me. I wanted those fingers on my body, caressing me.
Before things got out of control, I waved at the door. ‘You want to continue the tour?’
‘It’s more or less a two-room cabin, isn’t it?’
‘Yep. The bathroom’s next door, and I have a darkroom downstairs next to the pantry, but yes, that’s about it.’
Her eyes stayed on mine. ‘That’s all I need to know, thanks.’
‘Okay.’ I turned towards the door.
Her voice, firm, sexy, minus the icy disdain, stopped me. ‘Jensen?’
I looked over my shoulder. ‘Yes?’
‘Apology accepted.’
Another knot unravelled inside me, disconcerting me as much as the smile that took me by surprise. I wasn’t going to examine either right now. ‘Great,’ I said. ‘Coffee will be ready in five minutes.’
Before I did something else insane, like beg her for another kiss, I hurried down the stairs and crossed the living room into the kitchen. I busied myself measuring coffee beans into the coffee-maker—another perk I’d allowed myself—while ignoring the noises from the bathroom and thoughts of a wet, naked Graciela. The coffee was brewing when I heard her footsteps behind me. I turned, unable to help myself.
My breath flattened in my lungs.
Dammit. She was fucking gorgeous.
Black leggings showcased long, shapely legs and feminine hips. Above that, a waist-skimming grey cashmere sweater, designed in a wide-necked sexy way to reveal one shoulder, left a creamy expanse of flesh I couldn’t help but devour with my eyes as she moved towards me. ‘Why the bedroom upstairs?’
‘What?’ I forced my brain to track.
‘Why not attach a bedroom to the living room downstairs?’ she elaborated.
‘To conserve space. The initial plan was to make it one big room, get a big sofa that converts to a bed to use when I needed it, but I realised I’d need to make room for a bathroom down here too. I wanted to reduce the square footage so I went up rather than out and split the extra room downstairs into a pantry and darkroom. Rustic is one thing, but I draw the line at an outside bathroom.’
The barest hint of a smile curled her lips, and I was struck with the wild urge to see her truly smile. ‘Surprisingly I do too.’
‘Then we’re in agreement.’
She looked around again. ‘So, you own the cabin?’
I nodded. ‘Built it with my own two hands three years ago.’
Her gaze dropped to my hands and for some reason I wanted to spread them out, offer them to her.
Get a grip, Jensen.
The coffee machine beeped, giving me the perfect excuse to use my hands on something other than supplication.
‘How do you take your coffee?’
‘Black. No sugar. Thanks.’
Damn. Girl after my own heart.
Woman.
Graciela Mortimer was all woman. A woman I wanted more with every passing minute. I poured two cups of coffee and handed one to her. She lifted the cup to her lips, gently blew on it before taking a sip.
Her gaze lifted, boldly spearing mine for one tight little second. I wondered if she’d seen my desire. If she had, what would she do with it?
Nothing, I told myself firmly.
I’d sworn off entanglements, remember? I took a large gulp of coffee, wincing when it scalded my mouth and throat. But it brought a modicum of common sense, enough for me to exhale somewhere near normally as her gaze swung from me to the window.
‘Is there any way to find out how long this thing is going to last?’
My insides dipped, mocking the mental slap I’d just handed myself. ‘In a hurry to get somewhere?’
Hazel eyes returned to clash with mine. ‘Of course I am. Even charity magazines don’t run themselves.’
‘I don’t want to start an argument, but don’t you have people to ensure things run smoothly in your absence?’
‘Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being in charge.’
My next breath strangled in my chest. I’d got a small taste of her being in charge and it’d sparked a red-hot fire in me. But there was something else, something she wasn’t quite saying. I decided to leave it be. For now.
