He’d seemed fascinated by her collection of keepsake ornaments and the stories behind them, as well. Certain that she must be boring him beyond belief, she tried unsuccessfully several times to turn the conversation back to him, but he was far more interested in listening than talking.
Mary couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared so much with anyone, let alone someone she’d just met. With anyone else, it might have felt awkward, but not with Aidan. In spite of their slightly rocky beginning, an instant, comfortable connection had snapped into place between them.
If pressed, she wouldn’t have been able to explain it. Being with Aidan just felt right.
Time flew, and in only a few hours, the chore was complete. Her treasured decorations were wrapped and boxed, ready to be packed away until next year. Aidan helped with that, too. Mary couldn’t help but admire Aidan’s broad shoulders and flexing muscles as he assumed the task of putting the boxes up in the attic above the garage. Looking at his tight, sculpted behind while he was on the pull-down stairs was a nice bonus, too.
“Hungry?” he asked, descending the stairs one last time.
She licked her bottom lip as she forced her eyes from his powerful legs, over his lean hips, along his chest (she could see the T-shirt stretched tight where his flannel button-down gaped), and back to his face to find him looking at her.
“Um, yeah.” Mary broke free of the lust coiling itself around her like a boa, turning away before he spotted the guilty flush at being caught ogling him. “Starving, actually.”
It wasn’t a lie on either count. She’d been too nervous to eat earlier that morning, and she hadn’t had sex in more than eight years.
Now that all the decorations had been taken care of, she felt free to concentrate on other things. Like the lustful ache that had been building in her core over the past several hours. There was something extremely sexy about a man who cared enough to listen to her prattle on for an entire afternoon and did the heavy lifting.
“I’ll start taking things out of the oven.”
Mary scampered from the attached garage back into the kitchen. She needed to get a grip. Yes, Aidan was gorgeous. Yes, he had the sculpted body of a Greek god and the facial features to match. And yes, he had been helpful and charming and attentive all afternoon. But that didn’t mean he felt the same powerful urges that she did. After all, other than the chaste kiss at her door days ago, he hadn’t given her any indication that he wanted more. (A few times, she thought she’d felt his eyes on her when she wasn’t looking, but she hadn’t actually caught him ogling.)
With her mind consumed by those thoughts, Mary opened the oven door and reached in. A second later she yelped, jerking back her hand when the searing pain made her realize she’d neglected to put on mitts. Stupid, stupid, stupid! she cursed inwardly.
She ran over to the sink and put her hand under cold water, then reached up to tear a thick stalk from the aloe vera plant she kept on the window sill for just such a situation. Slitting it open with her fingernail, she spread the viscous gel over the burn.
“Mary? What happened?” Aidan was suddenly there, his brows creased in concern.
“Nothing,” she lied, looking over her shoulder and offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just me being clumsy.”
She turned her back to him at the sink, hurriedly wrapping a towel around her hand.
“Mary. Don’t hide from me.” His words and the sharp, authoritative tone in which he spoke them were so different from the soft, polite manner he’d displayed all day. They sent shivers down her spine; not frightening, exactly, but ripe with demand and authority.
Turning off the water, she flicked the husk of the aloe off to the side. She turned then, keeping her hand behind her.
“Give me your hand.” Golden brown eyes burned into her. Fierce. Commanding. Relentless. Mary felt their heat acutely, stoking the slow burn that had been building inside her.
“No.” She stiffened her shoulders and lifted her chin, but there was no concealing the breathless quality imbued in that one word.
“Mary,” he warned. One word, her name, filled with promise. “Give me your hand.”
This was the man she had sensed just beneath the surface, the one that had the heat pooling in her center. As much as she liked charming, thoughtful Aidan, this one made her breathless. The lust that had been coiling slowly around her suddenly tightened, binding her in its unbreakable hold. She whimpered, but not out of fear as a sudden wave of desire rose up inside her.
Mary ran her tongue nervously over her lip. What was wrong with her? She had never had such a fierce reaction to a man before.