me.”
Marissa lifted her head from Nate’s chest and raised a brow. She was still deliciously limp from round two and content to stay sprawled halfway across his body until morning. “You want me to get up, get dressed, and go to your place? Right now?”
“I’ll make it worth the effort.” Nate ran his hand down the center of her spine and over the generous curve of her ass.
“You can make the effort right here in about thirty minutes or so.” She tried to blow strands of hair out of her face, refusing to lift her arm to move the offending locks.
Reaching up, Nate tucked the stubborn hairs behind her ear. “Your bed sucks.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You do speak the truth. It does suck.”
“But you aren’t coming home with me, are you?” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
Crossing her arms on her chest, Marissa propped her chin on them and looked him in the eyes. “This is the part I hate. It’s the reason I never mix my personal life with business.” Her sigh was sad. “Tomorrow we have to be on set, and we have to work together like nothing happened between us. That is going to be hard enough without any added guilt I may feel from kicking you out of my bed.”
“You’re kicking me out of your bed? What happened to thirty minutes?” Nate tried to keep the tone of his voice light, but inside he was feeling a little bit of panic. Surely she isn’t really going to turn this into a one-night thing?
“I warned you, Nate. Long before any of this happened. I don’t do relationships.” She made to get up, but Nate wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight to his body.
“Slow down, Marissa. I asked you to come home with me, where the mattress is better. I didn’t ask you to marry me.” Touching his forehead to hers, he watched several emotions cross her face, each one fleeting. “I know your rule. No relationships. No attachments. I get it. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company for the next couple of weeks.”
“It could affect our working relationship.” Because of who she was, she stubbornly refused to discuss the issue and pulled away, sitting up to grab her robe from the end of the bed.
Knowing that he needed to pull back, Nate accepted her dismissal. For the moment. “You’re the boss.” He got up and went into the other room to get his clothes and get dressed.
She watched, as he gathered his things and got dressed. She had to admit the view was very nice, and again, she wished she had more to give—more time, more of herself. “Nate--”
He held up his hand to stop her. “Don’t. Don’t say something you don’t mean and will regret later.” He pulled his boots on and stood, pulling the creaky door open. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Marissa moved quickly across the room and put a hand on his arm to stop him from walking out. Raising up on her tip toes, she pressed her lips to his cheek and let her eyes close. “Thank you for the flowers.” She stepped back and let him walk out. By the time he got to the bottom of the steps, she was wishing she had the guts to stop him.
***
Nate took the long way home. He couldn’t erase the last image of her from his mind. Standing there in the doorway of that crap trailer, thin silk robe clinging to every curve, hair all messed up from his hands—and regret in her eyes.
Oh, she could say it wasn’t there, but he had seen it clearly. For a minute, he thought she was going to break down and stop him, ask him to come back. Then, she had stubbornly set her shoulders and closed the door.
He had to decide how he was going to play things tomorrow. He really wanted to pretend that nothing happened. Marissa would be doing just that. Her casual dismissal of him earlier smacked of a well-practiced and much believed speech. Protection from letting anyone get too close and from herself getting too
Marissa lifted her head from Nate’s chest and raised a brow. She was still deliciously limp from round two and content to stay sprawled halfway across his body until morning. “You want me to get up, get dressed, and go to your place? Right now?”
“I’ll make it worth the effort.” Nate ran his hand down the center of her spine and over the generous curve of her ass.
“You can make the effort right here in about thirty minutes or so.” She tried to blow strands of hair out of her face, refusing to lift her arm to move the offending locks.
Reaching up, Nate tucked the stubborn hairs behind her ear. “Your bed sucks.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You do speak the truth. It does suck.”
“But you aren’t coming home with me, are you?” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
Crossing her arms on her chest, Marissa propped her chin on them and looked him in the eyes. “This is the part I hate. It’s the reason I never mix my personal life with business.” Her sigh was sad. “Tomorrow we have to be on set, and we have to work together like nothing happened between us. That is going to be hard enough without any added guilt I may feel from kicking you out of my bed.”
“You’re kicking me out of your bed? What happened to thirty minutes?” Nate tried to keep the tone of his voice light, but inside he was feeling a little bit of panic. Surely she isn’t really going to turn this into a one-night thing?
“I warned you, Nate. Long before any of this happened. I don’t do relationships.” She made to get up, but Nate wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight to his body.
“Slow down, Marissa. I asked you to come home with me, where the mattress is better. I didn’t ask you to marry me.” Touching his forehead to hers, he watched several emotions cross her face, each one fleeting. “I know your rule. No relationships. No attachments. I get it. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company for the next couple of weeks.”
“It could affect our working relationship.” Because of who she was, she stubbornly refused to discuss the issue and pulled away, sitting up to grab her robe from the end of the bed.
Knowing that he needed to pull back, Nate accepted her dismissal. For the moment. “You’re the boss.” He got up and went into the other room to get his clothes and get dressed.
She watched, as he gathered his things and got dressed. She had to admit the view was very nice, and again, she wished she had more to give—more time, more of herself. “Nate--”
He held up his hand to stop her. “Don’t. Don’t say something you don’t mean and will regret later.” He pulled his boots on and stood, pulling the creaky door open. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Marissa moved quickly across the room and put a hand on his arm to stop him from walking out. Raising up on her tip toes, she pressed her lips to his cheek and let her eyes close. “Thank you for the flowers.” She stepped back and let him walk out. By the time he got to the bottom of the steps, she was wishing she had the guts to stop him.
***
Nate took the long way home. He couldn’t erase the last image of her from his mind. Standing there in the doorway of that crap trailer, thin silk robe clinging to every curve, hair all messed up from his hands—and regret in her eyes.
Oh, she could say it wasn’t there, but he had seen it clearly. For a minute, he thought she was going to break down and stop him, ask him to come back. Then, she had stubbornly set her shoulders and closed the door.
He had to decide how he was going to play things tomorrow. He really wanted to pretend that nothing happened. Marissa would be doing just that. Her casual dismissal of him earlier smacked of a well-practiced and much believed speech. Protection from letting anyone get too close and from herself getting too
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