More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

“This can’t be the first time you’ve ventured into a ladies’ room,” Tina said, still desperate to keep the conversation from veering into more personal terrain. Her voice sounded uneven and thick with tears. He finally allowed his eyes to drift back to hers, meeting and holding her gaze in the mirror.

“Believe it or not, it actually is,” he admitted and cautiously moved a step closer to her, reminding her of the way a man would approach a skittish wild animal. Which was fair enough, since she felt pretty damned skittish right now. He very, very slowly inched his way forward until he was standing directly behind her, so close that she could feel his every breath stirring her hair.

But he did not touch her.

“Why did you follow me in here?” she asked.

“You seemed upset. I was concerned.”

“About me?”

“Who else?”

“You have no right to be concerned.”

“And yet I am.”

She had no response to that. His words confused her, disconcerted her.

“I wish you hadn’t come here.”

“The ladies’ room or the town?”

“Both.”

He sighed deeply, and the movement caused his chest to brush against her back. She shuddered, disturbed by his extreme proximity. Disturbed and excited.

“I came here for Libby,” he said, his voice lacking conviction.

“Did you?”

“And for you. We have unfinished business.”

Chapter Five

“No, we don’t,” Tina denied. His breathing seemed to be getting heavier. It sounded uneven, jaggedly sawing in and out of his lungs.

“Turn around.” The words were whispered, and she watched as his eyes closed helplessly while he buried his nose in her hair.

“No.”

“Tina.” Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. “Please.”

“I can’t.” She didn’t know what was happening. It unsettled her. This was not something that should be happening. Ever. This awareness. This need to turn and step into his arms. It was undermining years of progress.

His hands lifted, hesitated—hovering in midair for a timeless moment, during which they both stopped breathing—and then settled on her upper arms. Lightly shackling her in his hold.

She was wearing a sexy black short-sleeved wiggle dress that celebrated her voluptuous curves . . . and his strong hands left scalding imprints on her flesh.

They both froze at the skin-on-skin contact before Tina shuddered in reaction and Harris groaned.

“I’d forgotten how soft you are,” he whispered, his voice taut, and Tina stiffened at that word.

Soft.

It brought back so many terrible memories. She shouldn’t allow this. Shouldn’t be duped by him again. But when his hands stroked down the length of her arms, to her wrists, and then down to her hands, where his fingers entwined with hers, she was completely powerless to resist him. She craved his touch more than she had ever imagined possible.

His eyes still held hers captive, and she swallowed painfully.

“Why were you crying?” he asked on a whisper, and she shook her head as her eyes flooded again.

“It’s been a stressful twenty-four hours. B-business hasn’t been ideal . . .”

She was stuttering on the half truth when one of his hands released her fingers to palm the side of her neck, his large thumb stroking the sensitive underside of her jaw. She made a soft sound, somewhere between a mewl and a groan. His front was pressed fully to her back by now, and she could feel the unmistakable swell of his arousal in the small of her back. It was shocking and intimate and completely surreal.

“I’m sorry,” he said, directly into her ear, his hot breath fanning against the temple.

“You shouldn’t be touching me,” she said, her voice lacking resolve.

“I like touching you,” he replied, and she shuddered.

“Let me go,” she said, her words a weak command. He immediately complied, leaving her feeling inexplicably bereft. He stepped away from her, and she felt distinctly wobbly without the warmth and support of his big, hard body.

She dropped her palms to the countertop in an effort to brace herself and lifted her eyes to meet his in the mirror. His pupils were dilated, he had a bright flush riding the crest of his sharp cheekbones, and his fists were clenched at his sides. He looked none too steady himself.

“I don’t like seeing you cry.” Tina nearly laughed out loud at his words. Ironic, when she had shed so many past tears because of him. “Would you let me help you? With the business, I mean.”

Every atom in Tina’s body rejected that idea, and she was shaking her head vehemently before he’d even completed the question.

“I don’t want your help,” she said, and his face tightened in annoyance.

“Why not?”

“Because this is my responsibility, and if this place succeeds after I accepted help from you, everybody would assume it was because of your involvement. It wouldn’t ever be my success.”

“That’s ridiculous.” But his denial sounded unconvincing, and she knew he could see the truth in her words.

“Nobody believes I can do this, Harris.”