Forbidden Passion. Emilie Rose
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at three to help me pack up what I don’t sell.”
“I’ll be back this evening.”
Pretend it didn’t happen. Pretend the man striding up your driveway didn’t give you more physical pleasure in five desperate minutes than your husband did in four years.
Lynn hovered on her side porch with her cheeks on fire and her insides a jumble. Coward that she was, she’d anxiously watched for Sawyer through the windows and then raced out the kitchen door before he could head up the brick walk to her front entrance. She couldn’t face him in the foyer.
Sawyer’s navy-blue polo shirt delineated his muscles to mouthwatering perfection. The short sleeves revealed thick biceps and tanned forearms lightly sprinkled with dark hair—hair that matched the denser whorls at the base of his throat. Her lips tingled with the memory of tasting him there, and a shiver slipped down her spine. His khaki shorts displayed rock-hard thighs and calves. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. She clenched her fingers as she relived the rasp of his chin against her palm.
She’d just lost her husband, and even if she’d quit loving Brett long ago, she shouldn’t be having womb-tightening thoughts about Sawyer or his athletic body. Ashamed, she ducked her chin, thumbed her wedding band and hoped the warmth beneath her skin wasn’t visible.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated without preamble.
Her heart jumped. Guilty as charged. “I’ve been busy for the past week with the estate paperwork, the real estate agent and appraisers.”
His cobalt gaze raked over her from head to toe, stirring up feelings best left undisturbed and leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake, but then concern softened his eyes and the hard planes of his handsome face. “How are you holding up?”
His quiet question put a lump in her throat. “I’m okay. You?”
He shrugged and she nearly rolled her eyes. Typical man, refusing to admit to emotion. Her father, the tough cop, had been the same—especially after her mother died.
“Come in.” She led the way through the garage and into the kitchen. Even though she kept her back to the curved archway leading to the foyer her heart thumped harder, and the sensitive areas of her body tingled with awareness for the man hovering a few feet away.
She concentrated on keeping her hand steady so she wouldn’t scatter the coffee grounds across the granite countertop and then poured water into the coffeemaker and turned it on. Pressing her palm against her nervous stomach, she tried to ignore the tremor running through her. “The coffee should be ready in a few minutes.”
“How much do you owe?” Sawyer’s tone sounded level, almost impersonal, but the way he looked at her wasn’t. His eyes stroked over her, and her skin reacted as if he’d touched her. Intimacy stood between them like a living, breathing being, connecting them in a way they hadn’t been linked before.
Don’t fool yourself, Lynn. The encounter in the foyer ten days ago had nothing to do with making love and everything to do with forgetting. The regret on both sides proved it shouldn’t and wouldn’t be repeated. So why couldn’t she get it out of her mind? And why, when he looked at her in that slow, thorough way did her awakened body hum with the memory of the way he’d caressed her and with the deep-seated need for him to do so again?
My God, what must he think of her? Had she become the clichéd merry widow? Embarrassment scorched her cheeks. She staggered back a step and retreated to the sunny bay window overlooking her tiny backyard in an effort to clear the unsuitable thoughts from her mind. She fussed with her multitude of plants, polishing dust off this one and plucking a dead bud from another, but Sawyer’s spicy scent pursued her relentlessly.
“How much, Lynn?” he repeated.
“Settling the estate really isn’t your problem, Sawyer.”
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. His biceps bulged and a muscle jerked in the tense line of his jaw. “It’s my problem if you have to sell part of the company to cover your debts.”
“Actually, I want to sell Brett’s share back to you.”
He frowned and shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t raise the capital to buy Brett’s share right now. The company’s having a few difficulties.”
A chill chased down her spine. Those shares were all she had. If the company folded they’d be worthless. “But I need the money to start over once the house sells.”
“And I need you to be patient. Give me a chance to turn the company around. You’d only get a fraction of the value if you sold now. Where do you plan to move?”
Lynn pressed her fingers against the steady throb building behind her left temple. “My aunt said I could stay with her until I get back on my feet.”
“In Florida? If you’re looking for a rent-free place to stay, then move in with me. I have the space.”
His offer tempted and repelled her simultaneously. She loved this small college town with its steep hills, curvy roads and friendly atmosphere, and Sawyer’s spacious home in the historic section had a character and grace that her newer one lacked. When he finished the renovations his house would be gorgeous. She loved the high-ceilinged rooms and tall windows which overlooked a huge yard.
But Sawyer had made her lose control, and she’d just spent four years of her life in a relationship that rendered her powerless. If she lived with him she ran the risk of repeating her mistakes. “Thanks, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Are you looking for a job?”
“Yes.” She’d been job hunting for the past three days, but the university students had left town for the summer, and the business owners had cut staff to accommodate reduced trade.
“Come to work for me.”
With her stomach churning, she gazed out the window. The last thing she wanted to do was face Sawyer every day and be reminded that she’d thrown herself at him like a woman starved for affection. “I don’t know anything about computer software development.”
Sawyer moved closer until he stood directly behind her, his reflection showing in the glass. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. The heat of his touch permeated her thin sweater, warming her skin. She swallowed hard and lifted her gaze to his. In his eyes she saw sympathy, frustration and heat. He hadn’t forgotten what happened any more than she had. There beneath the civilized veneer lay the awareness of what they’d done. Tension spiraled in her belly.
“Lynn, I can give you enough money to cover your immediate expenses, or I can offer you a job. Your choice. But I don’t want you to leave Chapel Hill until I’m certain you’re not carrying Brett’s child…or mine.”
Sawyer’s baby. Her pulse skipped a beat. She took a calming breath. It would be one thing to move to Florida alone or with Brett’s baby. It would be another to take Sawyer’s baby away from him. She could never be responsible for denying a child its father’s love.
Don’t panic about things that haven’t happened yet. You may not be pregnant. The odds for conceiving the first month after getting off the Pill are slim.
“Thank you, but I’d rather earn the money legitimately.” She forced herself to look into his eyes and stretched her lips into a smile that felt more like a grimace, but she couldn’t do any better with the worry building inside her. Stepping away, she put enough distance between them that she couldn’t feel his body heat and wouldn’t be close enough to give in to the temptation to lean on him and draw from his strength. It was time she stood on her own feet again.
“I want to help.” His voice hardened.
She took a deep breath and faced him. “And I want a real job, not one fabricated out of pity.”
“This is a real job. Opal, my administrative assistant, needs help. Brett’s assistant quit months ago, and Opal’s been