He paused in the hallway next to the living room when he saw her approaching. His heart sank when he saw her expression.
“Ryan, I’m sorry—”
“No,” he cut her off more abruptly than he’d intended and took a deep breath, briefly shutting his eyes. He opened them again, pinning her with his stare. “I’m sorry.”
She gave him a shaky smile. He hated seeing the uncertainty in her green eyes. She waved at the metal truck. “Thank you again. I can’t believe all you accomplished today.”
“All we accomplished.”
She nodded.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning and let you know about getting together with Mari? If you still want to, that is.”
“I do want to,” she said.
He gave her a small smile, appreciating her attempt to make things right between them again. All in all, he thought it was best that he get out of there before he said another stupid thing...or worse, touched her again. It was becoming increasingly hard to walk away after he felt her warm, soft skin beneath his fingertips, saw the way her lips parted as if in anticipation of his kiss—
He realized he was staring at her mouth again and charged toward the front door.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, then.”
“Okay,” he heard her say in a small voice from behind him.
Fifteen minutes later he dropped the key to his hotel room on the night table and stalked toward the bathroom, where he turned on the shower.
A good dousing in cold water helped, but it couldn’t extinguish the sound of Faith’s voice ringing in his head like a sexy taunt.
He toweled off and shrugged on a pair of briefs and jeans, not bothering to button them all the way. He sat on the bed and grabbed the remote control. The baseball game on TV didn’t distract him from hearing Faith’s voice much better than the cold shower had.
I suppose you think I need more of the experience that I had with you on Christmas Eve?
Hell, yes that’s what he thought. What sane male in existence wouldn’t think about repeating such a phenomenal experience, almost to the exclusion of everything else?
Even though he’d ritualistically forced himself not to dwell on what had happened between them on Christmas Eve, his powers were running thin now that he’d seen Faith again. Now that he’d touched her.
Now that he’d witnessed firsthand the miraculous result of making love to her that night.
* * *
Christmas Eve.
He remembered Faith’s radiant smile as they’d sat there together in the breakfast nook, sipping their Christmas punch. How could a woman possibly be so sweet and sexy as hell all at once?
* * *
“You’re not a stranger,” Faith said, beaming at him. “I feel like I know you as well as some people that I see every day of my life.”
She faltered, as if suddenly second-guessing what she’d just said. Did she realize how uninhibited, how generous...how appealing she’d sounded? She glanced away, her expression frozen. He saw her pulse thrumming delicately at her throat above the modest nightgown she wore with a white robe tied securely over it. As he watched, her heartbeat leaped.
She peeked over at him cautiously through a fall of dark, glorious waves and curls. Her cheeks and lips were flushed a becoming pink. He wondered if it was wishful thinking on his part, but her green eyes looked glazed with desire.
She spilled punch on her robe when she stood too abruptly. Ryan sprang up almost as rapidly. She laughed awkwardly as she wiped her hand over the upper swell of a soft-looking, firm breast, trying to dry the red fluid.
“Clumsy. Uh, excuse me...I just need to...”
He followed her, drawn to her like a bee to honey. “Faith?” he called when she rushed over to the kitchen sink and turned on the water.
“Yes?” she asked, glancing around, her eyes huge in her face.