laugh, he bent
a last tuck on the paper and extended his hand to her with the finished product cradled in his palm—an
origami bird.
She inched backward, then caught herself. This was her home, her life. She stood taller and stood him
down. "Stop trying to be charming."
His beautiful smile and laugh faded to a mere echo. "I thought you accepted my apology."
"I did." She wadded the tissue in her hand, tossing it aside with a final sniffle. Cold. Not tears. No more
tears over this man. "But you can drop the charming friend act. There's no going back to how things
were. You had your chance, and you blew it, dude."
His mouth went tight, his eyes dropping away from hers. Pausing. Holding. Right at her shirt level.
A damp T-shirt she now realized clung to her breasts that happened to be hyperaware of the sexy blond
hunk standing a reach away.
Carson's hands shook from resisting the urge to reach for Nikki and cup her breasts that he happened to
know fit perfectly in his palms.
And damn it all, why did he have to remember the feel and taste and texture of her in his mouth right
now? Washed-thin cotton clung to her skin and subtle curves, begging to be peeled up and off so he
could dip his head and lick away whatever water remained on her skin.
Water.
He needed to remember what had happened tonight, how she'd almost plunged to her death, would have
if not for the pool below. The thought alone served as an effective cold splash on his heated body. That
railing shouldn't have given way. This was a new complex with pristine upkeep. He couldn't ignore the
possibility that someone could have tampered with the balcony rail, someone who didn't want her to
remember what happened that night in Owens's VOQ room.
He could be wrong, but it was a helluva lot safer to err on the side of caution. "You shouldn't stay here
by yourself."
Her spine went straighter, which just so happened to press her peaked breasts tighter against the T-shirt.
Counting to ten—twenty—he set the origami bird on the counter.
She folded her arms across her chest. "If you're offering to hang out with me, I'll have to decline."
"I never thought you would agree to that anyway. And quite frankly, I don't think it would be wise."
She bristled to her full five feet ten inches tall. "Because you're afraid I'll jump your bones? Well, you can
be sure that even if I'd been the least bit tempted before, you've killed that spark."
Heard. Understood. And regretted.
"I'm more concerned with my own self-control." The words tumbled out ahead of his better sense. Not
really a surprise considering how he always seemed to lose his head around this leggy dynamo who could
outrace most men and kept a sarcophagus in her living room.
Her jaw dropped wide, started to close then went slack again. A bracing sigh later, she answered, "I
don't know what you're expecting to accomplish with a comment like that, but you made it clear the
morning after Spike's wedding that you don't want me in your life, and you didn't do it in a particularly
nice way. If you had a sister—"
"I do."
"You do?"
Her jaw went slack again, tempting him to kiss the surprise right off her face. Coming here had really
been a mammothly stupid idea.
But before he could drag his sorry, horny butt out the door she continued, "Quit distracting me. My point
is, if someone treated your sister the way you treated me, you would kick his ass."
"You're right." More than she could even know. He shoved away from the counter and her too-cute
sarcophagus and idealistic too-young heart. "And since I don't want my ass kicked by your brother or
father, it's best I don't stay here. I just had to see for myself that you're okay and make sure you're safe."
Did she have to look so damn conflicted? He was having a tough enough time resisting her when she told
him to shut up with all that fire and spunk he knew she brought to bed with her.
She skirted around the sofa full of inviting green pillows
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