He had already told her that. And he deserved better than the prickly crap she was giving him now. Trouble was, she didn’t know how to handle this situation. It was the first time in ages that she’d had sex. The best sex she’d had in her life. Which kinda meant she needed to escape asap. Because she wasn’t about to let her happy hormones make her go overboard for him.
So what was the protocol? How did she get out of here as fast as possible without being too abrupt?
“Where can I drop you?” He seemed to sense her growing discomfort.
“Oh.” She licked her lips and tried to shift back from him. She lifted on her knees, her sprits inwardly sinking as he left her body. She quickly wriggled to slip her panties back in place. “Nowhere. I’ll walk from here.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Of course it is. You may not have noticed, but I have two legs, two feet, all fully functioning.”
“I’m extremely aware that your whole body functions spectacularly, but I’m still giving you a lift home.”
“Thanks anyway, but I’d prefer to walk.” She couldn’t quite see, but she was certain he’d just rolled his eyes. She ground her teeth. “There’s no crime in Summerhill—”
She broke off at his laughter.
“Sugar, it’s not safe for you to walk these streets this late at night.” He sighed as if she were stupid.
She tensed and tried to shift off his lap. Because she was not stupid. She could take care of herself.
His hands stroked more firmly down her back, still supposedly soothing, but holding her in place at the same time. “It’s not safe for anyone to walk out at this time of night..”
“I have pepper spray.” And if he wasn’t careful, she’d test whether that was still functioning in a minute.
“That’s not going to save you from the snow,” he replied, amusement rippling through him. “It’s not just people you have to protect yourself from here, it’s the weather as well.”
She took advantage of his relaxed moment to quickly slither off his lap and onto the seat beside him. “Look out the window, it’s a clear sky. I’ll be fine.”
“You could still slip and fall. Hit your head. Lie there unconscious and get hypothermia and be halfway to dead before morning.”
“Wow. And you told me not to dramatize.”
“This isn’t the safe environment you think it is, this village is clinging to the edge of a massive mountain. You have to think about all the possibilities and take precautions.”
“I’ve managed the walk home every night so far without incident…”
“And tonight you don’t have to.”
She glared at him. She did not want to be dropped home, like it was some kind of reward or duty or something. She just wanted to be gone. Now.
“I was just inside you for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “But oh no, you’ve got to do the independence thing.” He reached past her and flicked open the car door. “Fine. Be gone, then.”
She laughed at his flash of irritation. It was the only thing she could do. Or she’d cry and crawl back into his arms and ask him to take her to his home and hold her forever. So not happening. He’d already made it clear that wasn’t ever going to happen. And she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself. She wasn’t ever going to need someone in that humiliating way—where you gave up everything you had, would do anything to be with the one you wanted.
For once she couldn’t think of the right come-back. He didn’t deserve her bitch act. But she didn’t want to be needy either. She refused to be needy, even if parts of her were yearning for him again already.
Businesslike. She finally hit on it. That was the way to deal with him. With a polite, businesslike goodbye.
“Thanks,” she said, turning to say farewell. “I had a nice—”
“Don’t you dare,” he interrupted viciously. “No fucking ‘nice’ manners from you.” With a sharp, vicious movement he leaned across and crushed her mouth with his. Startled, for a second she stiffened, only then his mouth softened and so did she. Heated. He sought pardon with his tongue, stroking deeply, stoking her response. Passionate, carnal. It was like he imprinted his masculine sexuality on her. His damn master kissing skills.
Slowly he drew back, his breathing roughened. “And no regrets.”
She couldn’t answer. He’d kissed her brains out.
He watched, motionless while she fumbled with the car door and stepped out into the dark night.
She walked as quickly as she could for the five minutes ’til she reached the small block of units, aware that a huge black SUV was slowly, pointedly, tailing her. Quite the chivalrous guy, wasn’t he? Freaking heroic. The low rumble of the powerful engine was the bass to the beat of words in her head.
Do not turn and invite him in. Do not turn.
The hunger within her roared. Her body was insanely hot.
Sex. More sex. More of that man.
It was like she had a nympho inside her. She breathed the icy air in large gulps. She needed to cool down.
Do not turn.
Her blood pulsed. That one last kiss had obliterated all the remnants of her orgasmic satisfaction. Now she was has hungry again. Hungrier in fact. Because she knew what she could get from him.
You never even saw him naked.
Finally she got to her small unit. Quickly she unlocked it, stepped inside. Locked the door again. Not to keep anyone out, but to stop herself running out there and begging him for more.
Stupid.
She leaned against the door, listening. Heard the engine of that car rev more powerfully as he increased speed. She kept listening until she could hear the engine no more.
She glanced down, saw she’d pressed her fists to her chest. Thank heaven he’d finished up his job and was leaving town. He’d be out of sight, so she could get him out of her mind. She’d not get obsessed, not lose herself and be bound in a relationship that only broke everything. She refused to lose all she’d built in her life—not like her parents had.
But she knew, he could so easily become her obsession.
Chapter Four
A nice time?
Connor barely restrained the urge to turn around, bang on her door and demand entry. He’d strip her completely and screw her to within an inch of her sanity. Have her suffer from orgasm overload, exhaust her to the point where she had to sleep for ten days straight...
A nice time?
He laughed at himself. Drama, much?
But he’d just had the best time ever. All he wanted to do was drive back to her, carry her to bed, and do it properly. That had been too fast. Too clothed. Too cramped. He hadn’t had sex in a car in years and now he remembered why. His muscles ached from not being able to stretch out. His brain hurt from the regret of not seeing her.
Admittedly, it was the first time he’d had sex in ages. He’d had to keep himself mostly clothed in order to contain his urge to just pump and come with in two minutes of getting his hands on her.
He drove to the Lodge, slowing as he wound up the walled driveway to take in the view of the massive building. The welcome lights were on, creating that postcard perfect picture. It was so damn majestic. And the ramifications of the last half hour hit him.
This building, the mountain, the whole damn empire was his. So what the hell had he been thinking? He wasn’t supposed to have sex with her. He’d wanted to scope her out. The two second Google search he’d done had confirmed his suspicions. She was Tony Nash’s daughter. The man Connor’s father had given investment advice to. Crap advice, as it had turned out.
Technically Rex had done nothing wrong. Tony had chosen to invest and he ought to have done his own due diligence. But Connor knew Rex could cast a spell over almost anyone— Connor had felt badly about it and there’d been rumblings of press interest since Rex had started his sideline occupation of speaker’s circuit. He believed too much in his own success story. But Summerhill was Connor’s success story. And he wasn’t having it shred
ded now. And any investment success in recent times was his brother Logan’s.
His father was a fraud in other ways. So a press spread was the last thing Connor wanted. No investigative journalists probing the lives of the apparently perfect Hughes clan and the glamorous ‘power couple’ behind the exclusive resort. There were too many things that could come out. Infidelity wasn’t illegal, but it tainted reputations. It would irrevocably mar the pristine snow perfection.
Connor had seen the letters Tony Nash had sent. And he’d taken action. He’d used a shell company and bought the three star hotel owned by Tony. Paid more than he needed to. But he’d ensured the man’s financial recovery.
Did that mean he’d bought his silence? Not at all. The Summerhill empire was always looking at expansion possibilities off the mountain. They bought and sold other companies all the time depending on their growth plan.
But he knew Tony Nash didn’t have any money problems now.