Adam nodded. ‘I know that. I guess I feel bad that back then I was more caught up with what was going to happen to me than caring about everything she’d lost.’ A guilt that had been enhanced further by Zeb’s arrival. It had taken his mother’s death to bring him what he’d wished for so fervently. The knowledge still soured his gut.
Next to him, Olivia shook her head. ‘Don’t even think about beating yourself up.’
A slender hand touched his arm, a tendril of hair wisped over his cheek and her smell enveloped him.
Close—she was so close—and, damn it, he didn’t want to talk any more.
Or think any more.
He just wanted to feel.
Her hazel eyes met his, their green flecks glowing in the dimness of the car’s interior as she scanned his expression.
There was no hesitation. In one lithe movement she moved closer to him. Elegant fingers reached up and cupped his jaw. Her fingers were so slight and gentle and yet they branded him. Her touch glided over his stubble and around to the nape of his neck; the caress jolted desire through his system.
He released the clip that held her hair back and dug his fingers in the glorious silken tresses, angled her face towards him.
Olivia parted her lips and his name escaped into the air—part groan, part entreaty. Shifting closer to her, he lowered his lips to hers. Her scent swirled round him and he was lost. Caught in a spirally vortex of desire. He could taste the fizz of champagne that lingered on her lips, and when his tongue stroked hers she moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers curling into his shirt.
Closer... He needed her closer. Adam spanned her slender waist with his hands and hoisted her onto his lap, cursing at the constraint caused by the long silver folds of her dress.
With a murmur of frustration Olivia hitched the shimmering material up around her waist and straddled him, her long, smooth thighs pressing against his. Adam’s now almost painful erection strained at his zipper, pushing against her hot core.
Fingers splayed, he smoothed up the soft bare skin of her thighs and she shivered in response. Her breathing quickened as he tiptoed his fingers farther up and reached the wispy lace of her knickers.
She was so wet, so responsive. His hips jerked upward and she writhed against him; their movements bordered on being frantic.
Breaking the kiss, she straightened. Magnificent. More beautiful than anything he’d ever seen before. Hair tumbled in wild disarray around her flushed face. Hazel eyes dark with a primal desire.
‘Adam, please...’ she murmured, her voice ragged.
He slid his finger under the lacy edge of her knickers, desperate to watch her shatter for him.
‘I’m right here.’
And her expression changed. The glow of desire receded and her face leeched of all colour as she stared down at him with a look of sheer horror.
In one awkward movement she twisted from his lap and desperate, jerky hands pulled the shimmering folds of her dress down her thighs.
She leant back against the seat and lifted her hands to her face. A muffled curse escaped her fingers.
Adam forced his breathing to a regular pattern and tried to calm both his veering heart and his hard-on.
‘Olivia—’ he began.
She shook her head. ‘Please don’t say anything. I’m sorry. And I’m mortified. And I really want to somehow pretend this didn’t happen.’
‘Again?’ He couldn’t help himself; frustration and confusion roiled inside him. ‘No can do, Olivia. It happened. Again.’
‘I’m sorry, Adam. I’m behaving like an idiot.’ She dropped her hands from her face and shifted even farther away from him. ‘Clearly my body is having some sort of hormonal meltdown. But I will not give in to it. I hate this. This attraction. I just want to turn it off.’
Despite himself, he smiled. ‘Attraction doesn’t work like that. You can’t just turn it off.’
‘I can. I have to.’ Her voice vibrated with desperate conviction. ‘Attraction is nothing more than a chemical reaction.’
‘Exactly. And you can’t change chemical reactions.’
‘No, but you can make sure that you don’t drop the potassium into the water.’
‘Or you can enjoy the explosion,’ he said.
‘And pick up the pieces later? Not my style.’
It wasn’t his, either. The important thing for him in any relationship was mutual short-term enjoyment, after which both parties went their separate ways in—and this was key—one piece. He’d created enough mess to last him a lifetime. A memory of Charlotte’s tearstained face accosted him and it was all the reminder he needed.
So what the hell was he doing now? Enjoyment did not include sharing his feelings about his mother’s death. Talking about Maria to keep her memory alive was one thing; spilling his guts to Olivia was a whole different situation.