“Thanks for coming tonight,” she said, standing up and putting the mugs on the tray to return them to the kitchen.
Nolan stood also and reached once more for the tray. His fingers brushed hers and her already jangling nerves surged to awareness, making her jerk the tray away.
“It’s okay, I can manage,” she insisted before turning away from him before he could see the rush of color that stained her cheeks.
Raina set the tray down on the kitchen counter and looked at her reflection in the dark window above. This was ridiculous. She’d barely seen him in the past week and a half and now she was a jittering mass of contradictions in his company. She’d told herself she was better off without him, that she didn’t need a man like him in her life, but no matter what her head said, her body told a different story. Even now her breathing was slightly ragged and she felt aware of every brush of her clothing over her sensitized skin. If this was how she reacted when he did nothing more than touch her with a fingertip, she’d be a complete and utter mess if they went any further.
“Raina? You okay? I’m heading off now. Thanks for the drink.”
She took a steadying breath and went back to the sitting room.
“You’re welcome and thanks again for defusing that situation with JJ before the pageant. I couldn’t have done that without you.”
“Only too happy to help out.”
He walked toward the door and Raina followed. In the entranceway he paused a moment and then turned to face her.
“Raina, I meant what I said to you earlier tonight. Can I hope that you’ll give me another chance to prove to you that I’m not all bad?”
Raina gave him a twisted smile. “I don’t have a particularly good track record with bad men.”
He smiled back in return but she could see the hurt in his eyes. The knowledge that she was categorizing him with the other deadbeats she’d fallen for in the past.
“Then let’s set the record straight, together,” he murmured and leaned forward.
She hadn’t known he was going to kiss her, at least not consciously. But while her mind may have been slow on the uptake, her body certainly wasn’t. She leaned into him, meeting him more than halfway and closing the gap between them. His arms wrapped around her, one hand lifting to spread through her hair.
The second his lips touched hers, she knew she was lost. What was life for if you couldn’t take second chances? His lips upon hers were electric, sending a pulse of longing through her body that made her tremble in response. He tasted of hot chocolate and more. Of something darker, spicier, deeper and more forbidden. Logic told her she should pull back, end this. End all of it. But logic took a backseat to the sensation and the promise that poured through her body at this gentlest of caresses.
Raina raised her hands to Nolan’s chest. Was it a subconscious attempt to keep some barrier between them, or was it so she could feel the hard strength of his lean muscles beneath the finely woven cotton of his shirt? Her hands tingled as she touched him, as her fingers spread out and her palms soaked up his heat. She ached to feel his skin, to touch him all over, but she daren’t ask him to stay. It was too soon. Too much. And she still had far too many questions.
When Nolan pulled back and let his hands drop away from her, Raina felt physically bereft.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” he said, stepping away and opening the front door.
Words failing her, Raina could only nod. After he’d closed the door behind him she stood there for several minutes, the fingertips of one hand pressed to her lips as if she could hold on to the moment—the sweetness, the promise—they’d just shared. But, like everything good in her life, the sensation was a fleeting one, gone before she heard his car start up outside and pull away from the curb.
She wanted him. She knew that. Acknowledged it with an honesty that brought tears to her eyes. But could she have him? Dare she?
Only time would tell.
Thirteen
If the staff at the sheriff’s office thought that Nolan looked like someone who’d pulled an all-nighter then that’s probably because he had. When he caught sight of his reflection in the outer doors, the red eyes and scruffy jaw, he grimaced. Certainly not his usual GQ-style appearance but then it wouldn’t be the first time Nolan had looked a bit frayed around the edges.
He’d never felt quite as invested in the result of his work as he had with what he’d done last night. The work itself, and his reasons for doing it, had made one thing abundantly clear to him. He wasn’t falling in love with Raina Patterson. He was already there. He loved her. There was no question about it. Yes, it was fast; yes, it had surprised him; and, yes, he’d fought it. But it’s what had kept him going at about two this morning when he was questioning his sanity in finding out all there was to know about Jeb Pickering.