head.
“I understand that something is holding you back from enjoying the fire that’s quickly burning us both up. So I’ll give you space until you give me an indication that you’re ready. But until then, don’t even try to deny this thing between us. I won’t buy it.”
He picked up his knife again and finished off the red peppers he’d been dicing.
Sierra swallowed, unsure how to respond. She wanted desperately to just run away but there wasn’t anywhere to hide.
He didn’t let her talk about work any longer. He asked her questions about her personal life, about her school and why she’d chosen to become an architect. The pasta was finished and he drained it all in the sink, then turned off the heat underneath the sauce. “This looks done,” he finally said, smiling because she kept nibbling at the crackers and dip. He carried two plates filled with pasta and a rich, creamy tomato sauce over to the table near the fireplace. “Can you bring the wine?” he asked, putting her plate on the table.
All through dinner, he had her laughing at his antics as he grew up and they both shared hilarious stories about different requests clients had made over the years. Sierra relaxed for the first time that night, feeling wonderful with the amazing food and the delicious wine, not to mention his dark, sexy eyes laughing with her. It also helped that he was across the table from her. The solid wood gave her a slight sense of security from his unrelenting sexual appeal that she was finding very difficult to ignore.
“Dinner was delicious,” she said, picking up her plate so she could bring it to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said, taking the plate away from her. “My housekeeper will come in tomorrow morning and clean everything up.”
Sierra didn’t like that one little bit. Because that meant she didn’t have anything to do with her hands, no barrier to keep him at bay. “It’s no problem,” she countered and picked up his plate and wine glass. “You cooked, I don’t mind doing the dishes. Besides, leaving them overnight will make the food dry out.” She didn’t look at him as she set the plate down in the sink and turned on the faucet.
“Sierra,” his deep voice said from right behind her. He reached around, placing the dish he’d just taken away from her under the water. He then easily shut off the water. Turning her around, he watched with both amusement and sexual frustration as she stood stiffly in the loose circle of his arms. “Why are you so afraid of me?” he asked gently.
Sierra wanted to fold her hands together, to close him out but she couldn’t drop her hands because they would be too close to sensitive areas of his anatomy. She crossed them over her chest, not daring to look up a t him. “I’m not afraid of you,” she lied. “I just don’t really like you.”
He laughed softly and Sierra was impressed with his self-confidence. “You’re lying again. I don’t understand why, but I’m going to find out.” He kissed her neck, her earlobe. “I’m going to discover all of your secrets.”
She shivered with his touch, actually leaning her head to the side to give him better access. But then she realized what she was doing, what he’d just said, and she stepped around him, relieved when he let her put some space between their bodies. “I don’t have any secrets,” she lied again although her words came out sounding breathless and too shaky.
He watched her with amusement as she walked over to her purse, putting it over her shoulder in a silent command that she was now leaving. “Everyone has secrets,” he countered. “One of yours is why you’re so afraid of me.”
She almost rolled her eyes, more confident now that she wasn’t in his arms and he wasn’t kissing her like he had been moments ago. “You flatter yourself. I’m not afraid of you. I’m just not