He gave a slow smile. ‘You said that kissing me was the best experience of your life.’
‘That was before I knew the truth about you.’ But her breathing quickened and he felt the chemistry flash between them.
‘I didn’t deceive you, Hayley. There was nothing dishonest about that night we spent together. I want to clear up that misunderstanding right now.’
Outside his kitchen the snow fell, dusting the window with soft white flakes.
Inside, the only sound was the slow jerk of her breathing and his own heartbeat as he struggled to control his shockingly powerful reaction.
Still not moving a muscle, her eyes were locked with his. ‘You didn’t tell me about your children. How could you not mention your children?’
‘As I said, because that night was about you and me,’ he said softly, sliding his fingers slowly through her hair. ‘No one else.’
She closed her eyes and swayed slightly. ‘Stop it. Stop touching me like that.’
‘No.’ His eyes slid to a shiny curl that had wrapped itself around his fingers. ‘You’re beautiful, Hayley.’
‘You can’t talk your way out of this, Patrick,’ she whispered, and he lowered his head slowly.
‘All right.’ He murmured the words against her mouth, his body on fire. ‘No talking. But that rule has to include you, too. And just to help you out…’
She gave a low moan and her lips parted against his. It was like being burned at the stake and Patrick’s mind went blank.
And then she gave him a hard shove.
‘No!’ She backed away, her expression one of self-disgust, one hand raised, warning him to keep his distance. ‘And you’re not to do that again without warning me!’
Shaken by the erotic ache in his loins, Patrick hooked his thumbs into his front pockets to ease the pressure on his jeans. ‘You want me to warn you when I’m intending to kiss you?’
‘Yes. I need to prepare myself.’
Sensing that if he smiled he’d be in even greater trouble, he kept his expression deadpan. ‘How much warning do you need? I mean, just so that I know. Are we talking seconds? Minutes?’
‘Actually, forget it.’ Visibly flustered, she pressed her fingers to her forehead. ‘Just don’t kiss me again, all right? Not unless you can learn to do it badly.’
‘Could you define “badly”?’ Patrick, who was feeling extremely bad, suspected he might have already qualified.
‘Bad as in yucky.’ Her glance was exasperated. ‘The sort of kiss that makes you shudder and reach for a hairdryer. You know the sort!’
‘I don’t think I do.’
‘Are you laughing at me again?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘You are laughing at me!’
‘All right, maybe,’ he conceded, ‘but in a good way.’
‘There is no good way to mock someone.’
His amusement faded. ‘I’m not mocking you. I’m complimenting you. You…surprise me. I’ve never met anyone quite like you before.’
‘An embarrassing disaster, you mean? You don’t need to point out that you’re used to women who are far more sophisticated,’ she mumbled, ‘but you’re not perfect either. Well, apart from the whole kissing thing, which you’re actually pretty good at. And the…’ She waved a hand. ‘Well, you know. But there’s plenty wrong with you. The worst of it being your very suspicious nature and your tendency towards the negative. I still can’t believe you assumed I was pregnant. I mean, that has to be the most unromantic thing I’ve ever heard. What on earth would make you think that?’
‘Hayley…’ Trying to think cold thoughts to relieve the throbbing ache in his body, Patrick tried to focus on the conversation and not her mouth. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. I assumed that only the direst emergency would bring you to my doorstep in weather like this when everyone is decorating Christmas trees and preparing cranberry sauce.’
‘I didn’t know this was your doorstep.’