Home > Wedding His Takeover Target (Dynasties: The Jarrods #5)(14)

Wedding His Takeover Target (Dynasties: The Jarrods #5)(14)
Author: Emilie Rose

“There won’t be a next time, and any chance is too big of a chance.” She tugged on her bra, concealing the br**sts he hadn’t had enough of yet, then her shirt. Without the delicious distraction, he had to focus on her eyes—eyes filled with regret.

“We’ll deal with that situation if it arises.”

She bent to look for her panties and he shamelessly enjoyed the view of her long legs and tight, round butt. He couldn’t help reaching out and skimming his hand down her flank and savoring the satiny smoothness of her pale skin.

She jumped out of reach and spun around, shielding the dark triangle of curls between her legs with her jeans. “Stop that. And there is no ‘we.’ We have no future. You’re leaving Aspen. I’m not.”

Why did her words hit him like a punch in the gut? They were true. But admitting the truth could cost him everything.

She stabbed her legs into her jeans—sans panties, zipped and buttoned them. “And if any situation requires a decision it will be my decision. Not yours. I don’t want anything from you.”

It would be partly his decision if he married her. “Don’t expect me to walk away from a connection like ours without a fight.”

Panic widened her eyes even more. “There is no connection. It was just sex.”

“Great sex.”

She bowed her head and took a deep breath, then lifted her chin. Her eyes were hard, determined. “Look, Gavin, this was a mistake that won’t be repeated.”

Yes it would. Often, if he had his way. But not in an unheated barn. As much as he liked the way her n**ples tightened from the cold and pushed against her shirt, he wanted her nak*d and spread across his Egyptian cotton sheets, warm and willing.

He rose and stepped closer to her, enjoying her quiet gasp of surprise. “Not repeating what we just shared would be the mistake.”

Her pupils dilated, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed. He could see the hunger in her eyes and waited for her to admit he was right, but instead she shook her head and backed away. “No. Pretending this never happened would be the wisest course of action. That’s what I intend to do. What we both should do.”

He couldn’t allow that to happen. He caught her face in his palm. Her body stilled and her expression turned wary. “There’s no way you can forget how good we are together. I guarantee it.”

She jerked her head out of his grasp and set her jaw at a stubborn angle. “Watch me.”

Seven

She might have been a little overconfident in her ability to ignore Gavin, Sabrina admitted Friday afternoon.

In the eight hours since they’d made lov—had sex, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. Thoughts of him lurked around corners of her mind, leaping out to startle her at inopportune moments. It didn’t help that he was rarely out of sight, and even when he was she could hear the low baritone of his voice as he talked to Pops.Worse, she still smelled of him—of them—because she couldn’t sneak off to wash his scent away without making Pops question why she’d taken a second shower in the same day. And the seam of her jeans rubbed sensitive places—places that should be covered by panties, but weren’t since she hadn’t found hers and hadn’t wanted to linger in the barn to search.

How could she have become intimate with someone she’d only known four days? Shame burned her cheeks. That wasn’t like her. Russell had been her only lover, and it had taken three months and falling head over heels in love with him for him to talk her out of her clothes. Luckily, she’d figured out the guys before him had only wanted one thing from her—copies of her parents’ course exams—before she’d done more than heavy kissing and a little uncomfortable groping.

Footsteps approached—her grandfather’s soft shuffle followed by Gavin’s purposeful tread. Her spine snapped straight and her pulse went wacky. She wanted to run, but she wouldn’t give Gavin Jarrod the satisfaction of knowing she was uncomfortable around him.

Pops preceded Gavin into the kitchen. “I’m off, girlie.”

Alarm raced through her. “Off where? What about dinner?”

“I’m eating with my poker buddies.”

“But this isn’t your usual night, and I was about to grill steaks.” She couldn’t care less about the steaks. She didn’t want to be left alone with Gavin.

“Save mine for tomorrow. Horace is making his famous venison stew.”

“Why don’t you take Gavin with you? He might enjoy meeting your poker pals.”

“I’m not about to bring a card shark to the table. He’d steal the pot, and the boys would never forgive me. Good night. Don’t wait up.” Pops grabbed his coat and hat and let himself out the back door, leaving Sabrina staring after him in dismay.

Now what?

Get rid of Gavin, that’s what.

She delayed facing him until she absolutely couldn’t anymore, then turned. He leaned against the doorjamb, ankles and arms crossed, watching her. The wolf-like watchfulness and hunger in his eyes as his dark gaze rolled over her thickened her tongue and made the spot between her legs tingle.

She gulped. “You’re a card shark?”

He lifted one muscled shoulder. “When we’re stuck on a job and the weather’s not cooperating we sometimes kill the time with cards. I do okay.”

She shifted on her feet, searching for a way to rid herself of his company. “You have an evening off. Go home.”

“Not without my date.”

Her stomach swooped. Good. She was glad he had a date. She wanted him to bother some other woman and leave her alone. But that burn in her belly felt a lot like anger. How dare he romance her and then hours later turn to another woman while her scent still clung to his skin. But what had she expected? Hadn’t those spoiled college boys tried the same tricks? They’d flirted with her, plied her with beer neither she nor they had been legally old enough to drink, then they’d gone back to their girlfriends when she hadn’t given them what they wanted.

“I hope you have a nice time,” she forced through clenched, smiling teeth.

He moved closer, making her retreat until the counter bumped her spine. The look of intent on his face caused her legs to quiver. “We will. Grab whatever you need. Let’s go.”

She blinked in confusion, then when his meaning sank in panic prickled her skin. “We? Go where?”

He parked a hand on the counter on either side of her, effectively boxing her in. “We’re having dinner at my place.”

“Your place,” she parroted back and then could have kicked herself for sounding like an idiot.

“The lodge I’m using at Jarrod Ridge.”

No way. She folded her arms, intent on avoiding that trap and forcing a few inches between them. “I am not going to your place.”

“Would you rather your grandfather come back unexpectedly and catch us in bed?”

Her chest hurt. She realized it was because she’d forgotten to breathe. She inhaled shakily, hoping the oxygen would clear up her light-headedness and slow the rush of blood through her veins. It didn’t. “That’s not going to happen.”

He checked his watch, giving her just enough space to dodge out of reach. “The lobster, buttered asparagus, maple-glazed carrots and German chocolate cake will be delivered in an hour.”

Her favorites. Her mouth watered like one of Pavlov’s dogs’. “Pops has been talking.”

“You’re his favorite subject.”

She cringed. “I’m sorry you have to endure his ramblings.”

“I’m hanging on every word because pleasing you, pleases me.”

Oh, boy. The man personified testosterone in a turtleneck, and when he spoke in that low sexy growl she wanted to lap up everything he said like a dog in heat. Good thing she wasn’t that gullible.

“Come for dinner, Sabrina. If you can resist the pull between us I’ll bring you home—untouched—afterward. But if you can’t…” He dragged a knuckle down the side of her neck, making her shiver. “I’ll spend the rest of the night exploring every inch of you. First with my hands. Then with my mouth.”

Her knees melted. She clutched the counter for support. Shattered by the image he painted with his words, she shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’d rather have a quiet night. Alone.”

A smile of pure devilment curved his lips, and her heart flipped like a pancake on a hot griddle. “No, you wouldn’t. I can’t erase the taste of you or the feel of your skin from my mind. This morning was only an appetizer. I want more, and I’d bet my truck you’re fighting the same battle. You’ve watched me all day with the same hunger in your eyes that’s chewing up my insides.”

Could her skin possibly get any hotter? Her heart beat any faster? Had she ever been more tempted to throw caution to the winds and seize what he offered? No, no and no.

And then her panic subsided as quickly as it had risen and a sense of calm settled over her. Well, a sort of calm if you discounted the tremor racking her limbs and making a cold sweat bead on her upper lip.

Why couldn’t she accept his proposition? Why shouldn’t she enjoy a brief, temporary affair with Gavin? He was the perfect candidate to help her work the logjam of hormones from her system. He was rich, entitled, and even arrogant—qualities she would never find attractive. He’d be leaving Aspen as soon as he fulfilled the terms of his father’s will. It wasn’t as if she’d fall for someone who was counting the days until he could break free. Not when she understood how all-consuming that yearning to escape could be. It overrode everything, including reason.

An affair. Seven months of sex.

Excitement rippled through her, then waned. Her last affair—with Russell—had cost her so much. Her home. Her family. Her friends. And then when she’d lost her baby and hit rock-bottom she’d had no one to turn to because Russell had been deployed overseas. But that had been years ago. She wasn’t a naïve eighteen-year-old anymore. And her family, other than Pops, already acted as if she’d died.

What did she have to lose? Certainly not her heart. Not to a man like Gavin “His Family Owned Half the Valley” Jarrod.

It didn’t matter that he was handsome and hellaciously good at finding her pleasure points. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—love him. Not in this lifetime.

You have no idea how to have a no-strings affair.

But she could learn. She could learn anything if it meant finding a way to hold onto the inn and easing the discomfort Gavin had created.

But her grandfather could never find out. He wouldn’t approve.

“I’ll get my coat.”

The flash of victory in his eyes gave her pause, but she pushed it aside. She would not let this be a mistake.

Sabrina wiped her damp palms on her jeans and swallowed the lump of nerves rising to block her throat. “Black Spruce Lodge,” she read on the tastefully carved wooden sign outside the building. “Are all Jarrod Ridge’s lodges named after trees?”“Yes,” Gavin said as he pulled the key card from his pocket.

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