He pushed his hand beneath her hair, cupping the back of her head, and angled her face toward his as he had right before they’d kissed last night. He held her gaze for so long, her stress turned to anticipation.
“More importantly,” he said in a husky voice. “Fake or not, I’d never embarrass you by hitting on another woman when I’m supposed to be with you. I might not be a saint, but I’m not a cheat. Besides, why would I ever drive a Honda when I have a Bentley in the garage?” He cocked a brow. “Coming?”
Not yet.
Holy smokes. Seriously? She was definitely losing her mind. “No. Go ahead.” She pointed toward the boxes. “I’m going to find the wine.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN ZANE CAME back from getting the supplies, he found Willow sitting on the hill with her back to their campsite. She’d always needed time alone to cool down, and if she was feeling their sizzling connection even half as strongly as he was, she’d need a lot of space. He glanced up the hill, catching her silhouette against the moonlight. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and her head was tipped up toward the sky. She looked peaceful and beautiful and so frigging sexy he could stare at her all night long, which was precisely why he returned his attention to setting up their campsite.
Inside the tent, he finished laying out the sleeping bags and spread the Egyptian cotton sheets he’d bought over them, set the pillow at the top, and checked the string of LED lights he’d hung around the entrance one last time before setting out the goodies he’d brought. He took care of a few more things, tossed his phone in the middle of the bed, and went to join her.
“Hey,” she said as he dropped down beside her.
“You okay?”
“Mm-hm. Sorry about before.”
He put an arm around her. “As I said, green’s not your color. If I hinted at wanting to do anything more than letting Penny feel happy that I remembered she’d texted me, then I’m sorry. I was just killing two birds with one stone.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m just a little messed up right now.”
“I think I’ve already stolen that title. Your rep is clean.” Pressing a kiss to her temple felt natural, and really, really good. How many years had he wished for time alone with Willow? “I’m sorry for putting you through this, but I’m glad we’re getting this time together.”
She gave him a long, assessing gaze. “Are you?”
More than I ever realized I would be. “Hell yes.”
“But why? You’re stuck out in the woods when you could be anywhere else.”
“But you wouldn’t be there.”
For years they’d kept each other at arm’s length, and now heat and the past and something much bigger seemed to twine together, tethering them with an unbreakable bond. His body moved of its own accord, leaning forward, wanting her, needing her in his arms. Her eyes said, Take me, but he knew he’d never stop at one kiss. There was no way. Not this time. Before he could get carried away, he pushed to his feet, grabbed the bottle of wine she’d been drinking, and pulled her up beside him.
“Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A better surprise than a fake engagement and photographers stalking my work and home?”
He turned her by the shoulders in the direction of the tent. The lights twinkled against the dark forest.
“Oh, Z—”
His heart thumped harder. That breathless whisper did him in. He took her hand and led her down to the tent. “Go on in, princess.”
She went down on her knees on the edge of the bed. He watched her beautiful eyes drift over their comfortable bed and the cupcake he’d set off to the side.
“I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as yours, but I figured you might want something to go with this.” He set down the wine bottle and knelt beside her, handing her his phone. “Turn it on.”
She pushed the button, and the screen came to life, revealing the opening credits of the movie The Notebook. She covered her mouth, her eyes warm and dreamy.
“There’s a whole playlist if you’re not in the mood for that one.” He reached over and navigated to Willow’s Playlist, watching as she read the titles—You’ve Got Mail, Titanic, 50 First Dates, Sleepless in Seattle, Love Actually, Pretty Woman . . .
Scrolling through the twenty-plus titles, she said, “All my favorites.”
“Yeah.”
“How . . . ?”
“Ten years of being blown off is a long time. Each time you blew me off, you revealed a little more about yourself. Your favorite movies, that you like the Strawberry Festival better than any of the others, your penchant for custard instead of cream filling, your hatred of blue skirts and guys with no chest hair . . .”
“Oh my gosh” slipped out like a secret.
“I know I’m putting you through hell, Wills, lying to your family, taking you off the market for the next two weeks, but I’m really glad you’re with me.”
“This was my choice.” She looked at the playlist again. “I thought you were just messing with me all those times you texted.”
“So did I,” he admitted.
She grabbed his hand, as if she needed it for stability. Hold me, baby. Hold on tight.
“Z,” she whispered, emotions warring in her eyes. “I’m having trouble defining the line between real and fake.”
He cradled her warm, soft face in his hands, the scent of wine and sweet, luscious Willow drawing him closer. Desire throbbed through his veins, his hands shook with the anticipation of finally touching her again, and he didn’t even try to restrain himself any longer. “Then let’s not define it.”
She leaned forward, but the second before their lips touched, he tangled his hand in her hair, holding their kiss at bay.
“This time I make the rules,” he said too harshly, but he was half a second away from tearing off her clothes and taking all of her, and there was no way in hell he would deny himself the chance to feel.
She swallowed hard, clutching his arms so tight her nails carved half-moons into his skin, and sweet Jesus, it felt good.
“This time we feel,” he demanded. “We feel as much and as hard as we want. And we don’t worry about anyone else. Anything else. Got it?”
She was breathing so hard, “Yes,” came out as a plea.
He dragged his eyes down the length of her body, earning a shuddering inhalation, and in that moment his internal fire changed to an inferno; his desire turned greedy and dark. “Tonight you’re mine, Willow.”
He waited a beat to see if she changed her mind, but she was right there with him, so he pushed a little harder. “From this moment on, baby”—he brushed his lips over her cheek, and her breathing hitched—“I’m yours.”