God, she loved hearing him say her name. Loved it as much as she loved the hard press of his muscles all along her body as he held her so tight that it felt like he would never let her fall.
But none of this—none of him—was meant for her. He was too good. Too sweet. Too real.
Whereas nothing about her life was good or sweet or real. Only the too-short time she’d spent with Drake had been any of those things.
“I meant it when I said that I can’t do this.” No lie had ever been bigger, considering she so easily could. But calling on his sense of honor was the only way she could think of to stop them from taking things so far that he’d regret it.
He didn’t kiss her again, but he didn’t let go of her either. Instead, he surprised her yet again by saying, “I won’t hurt you.”
But I’ll hurt you. And I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it.
“I know you won’t.” Though she barely knew him, she didn’t doubt the truth of it. “But I still can’t be with you.”
“I know things are crazy for you right now. I’ll wait.”
“Don’t.”
The sure knowledge that she could never erase her past—and that she wouldn’t risk sending his life careening as off track as hers was right now—made her strong enough to finally let go of him.
Every part of her that had been so warm while pressed against him immediately chilled as she forced herself to put some space between them and made herself say, “You should go.”
Though she was wearing only a towel, he never looked away from her face. “Come with me. Sit for me again. I’ll feed you pie.”
He made it sound as if there wasn’t one single reason why she shouldn’t go back to his cabin and sit on the chair in the corner with his big dog in her lap while he painted her. As if they both didn’t know darn well that if she went with him, she’d also end up in his bed.
Dangerous.
Drake was so dangerous for her.
It wasn’t just his intensity that was dangerous. Wasn’t only his big heart as he’d looked out for a stranger.
No, it was his belief that this connection between them was worth taking a risk for, that suddenly seemed the most dangerous of all.
Rosa had learned early on in Hollywood that if she didn’t keep the walls around her heart tall and thick, she wouldn’t be able to survive it. But she’d never been tested like this. Never wanted to drop all her walls so that she could let someone else in.
“Drake—” Every inch of her ached to be back in his arms. But she needed to be stronger than that, needed to force herself to close the door behind him for good this time. “I can’t go with you.” She held up her hand before he could come closer. “And you can’t kiss me again to try to convince me either.”
“You’re right, I can’t if you don’t want me to. But you can kiss me again anytime you want. And when you do?” His eyes grew even darker. Even hungrier. And were so sexy that she nearly melted into a puddle of goo as he said, “All bets are off.”
She shook her head, hoping that might clear it. When it didn’t, she decided to try another approach. “We shouldn’t even be having this conversation right now. I don’t have any clothes on.”
His mouth curved up, but he still didn’t drop his gaze from her face. “Then put some on and come back with me.”
Clearly, he wasn’t the kind of man who was used to taking no for an answer. “I still don’t understand why you want to paint me so badly.”
“You make me remember why I love it.” It was the most beautiful, heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to her, and she was still reeling from it when he grinned and added, “And you make me remember why I love kissing too.”
She shouldn’t have laughed. Shouldn’t have encouraged him, especially when she was still nearly naked. But how could she stop herself from laughing when he was so gorgeous and persistent and wonderful?
The laughter felt strange in her chest, her throat. And not just because she had barely even smiled in the past two days. It was more that she hadn’t really laughed in years. She frowned, wondering if that could be true.
Had she really not laughed in that long?
She looked up into his eyes when she felt his fingers lightly stroking her cheek. “Come to my cabin. Sit on the leather chair with Oscar. Let me paint you. We don’t have to make it any more complicated than that right now.”
He wasn’t lying—she already knew that Drake Sullivan simply wasn’t capable of it. And yet she also knew not complicated couldn’t possibly be true. She needed to be brave enough to lay out the consequences for him in black and white.
“I want you, Drake. There’s no point in pretending I don’t. So if I come back to your cabin, we both know where it’s going to go. Where we’re going to go. And I can’t let us go there when I’m not—” She couldn’t look into his eyes. “When I’m not good enough for you.”