“Well, I thought that went well, don’t you?” Hunter said.
I did not think that had gone well. I thought that had gone the opposite of well. It had, in fact, gone so thoroughly not-well that in a crescendo of complete unwellness, the evening was ending with me having to ride back to the plantation in a car driven by an obscenely happy Hunter, who insisted on humming happy songs under his breath, making random positive comments about my sister, grilling me about how my efforts had gone and why he hadn’t seen me for the last quarter, and touching my arm.
Like, maybe if he had just confined himself to touching my arm, I would have been more kindly disposed toward him. But probably not.
It didn’t help that my head was already starting to hurt like a motherfucker.
“Whatever.” I purposely didn’t look him in the eye as I said it.
“Somebody have a little too much to drink again?” he teased, playful as a kitten.
“Don’t count on it,” I snapped.
“Ooooh, did your mother call you and offer comments on your dress? Is that why the long face?”
“Just keep your eyes on the damn road,” I retorted.
“No need,” he said with a grin so cheesy it could’ve been its own pizza topping. “We’re already there.”
I looked out the window and saw the white columns of the manor house rising in the darkness, the cicadas singing a welcoming lullaby.
“Fucking finally,” I muttered. I swung the door open and stomped out, slamming it behind me. “You drive like my grandma. What, are you afraid Chuck’s going to send a damn helicopter to survey your cautious driving ass?”
It wasn’t my greatest parting shot in my history of parting shots, but I’d take it. I whirled around and headed for the guesthouse, intent on collapsing into bed as soon as I made it through the door, dreams of sugar plums and recriminations dancing in my head.
Only it seemed that Hunter had no plans to let me make it to the guesthouse.
He planted himself in front of me, blocking the path.
“I can actually go around you, you know,” I pointed out. “You’ve got broad shoulders, but it’s not like you can block all points in space and time.”
“I don’t need to,” he countered, moving to intercept me as I tried to go around him as I’d threatened. “I just need to wear you down until you finally give me a straight answer on why you’re acting like a bratty teenager instead of my brilliant-minded work colleague and personal guest.”
My fists clenched. I could feel a tremble working its way outward from my heart, working its way into my voice. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Hunter Knox. I don’t owe you anything.”
“Maybe so,” he said, his voice a dark rumble. “But I’m going to get one regardless.”
I tried to shoulder past him, but he threw out his strong arm and I ran right into it, that hard muscle under his tailored tuxedo, the fabric crisp and smooth and smelling of his cologne and of him, and oh God, he smelled so good, oh God, he was so warm, I just wanted to taste him, I just wanted to melt into his arms…
His arm wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest.
My heart was beating a million times a minute.
“Admit it,” he growled, his voice darker than midnight, and my knees wobbled as arousal swept through me. “Admit it, Ally: you’re jealous.”
“Of course I’m jealous!” I exploded, ripping myself away from his grasp. My tiny fist hammered onto his chest. “I’ve just been trying to be professional, because goddamnit, some of us have to earn every inch of our way to the top in this business, and I didn’t want people to think I’d earned mine on my back! But—but you asshole—” tears were threatening to choke my voice now—“we shared something good, something, something real, and now you’re just—goddamnit, just onto the next girl, and it’s my goddamn sister, how could you—”
“So you don’t want me dating Paige?” he asked, an emotion I couldn’t identify flitting behind his stoic mask.
“No!”
“Okay, then.” And then he smiled. “I won’t.”
I gaped at him. “What…?”
“I won’t,” he repeated, more gently this time. His hand reached out, cupping my cheek. “I didn’t want to hurt you…I never want to hurt you…”
“You did a good job anyway,” I whispered.
His eyes were molten pools of gold, and I was falling into them. “You’re all that I want…”
He leaned closer.
My lips parted, my breath stolen from me by his mere presence.
Our lips met, hesitantly at first and then with growing passion. His arms pressed me against his hard body, my hands clutching possessively at the small of his back, bunching the fabric there as I claimed him with my mouth. He nibbled at my lower lip and I moaned against him, parting my lips invitingly until he thrust his tongue inside, tasting me, exploring me, making me squirm against him in desire.
And then—