“Stop it.”
“Why?” He shook his head and kept coming, one long, slow step after another. “You’re still beautiful. And I like the way temper makes your eyes flash.”
The office just wasn’t big enough for this, Lacy told herself, and crowded around behind the desk, trying to keep the solid piece of furniture between them. She didn’t trust herself around him. Never had been able to. From the time she was a girl, she had wanted Sam and that feeling had never left her. Not even when he’d broken her heart by abandoning her.
“You don’t have the right to talk to me like that now. You left, Sam. And I moved on.”
Liar, her mind screamed. She hadn’t moved on. How could she? Sam Wyatt was the love of her life. He was the only man she had ever wanted. The only one she still wanted, damn it. But he wasn’t going to know that.
Because she had trusted him. More than anyone in her life, she had trusted him and he’d left her without a backward glance. The pain of that hadn’t faded.
He narrowed his gaze on her. “There’s someone else?”
She laughed, but the sharp edge of it scraped her throat. “Why do you sound so surprised? You’ve been gone two years, Sam. Did you think I’d enter a convent or something? That I’d throw myself on our torn-up marriage certificate and vow to never love another man?”
His jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching as he ground his teeth together. “Who is he?”
She sucked in a gulp of air. “None of your business.”
“I hate that. But yeah, it’s not,” he agreed, moving closer. So close that Lacy couldn’t draw a breath without taking the scent of him—his shampoo, the barest hint of a foresty cologne—deep into her lungs. He looked the same. He felt the same. But nothing was the same.
Lacy felt the swirl of need she always associated with Sam. No other man affected her as he did. No other man had ever tempted her into believing in forever. And look how that had turned out.
“Sam.” The window was at her back, the glass cold through her sweater and still doing nothing to chill the heat that pulsed inside her.
“Who is he, Lacy?” He reached up and fingered the end of her braid. “Do I know him?”
“No,” she muttered, looking for a way out and not finding one. She could slip to the side, but he’d only move with her. Too close. She took another breath. “Why does it matter, Sam? Why would you care?”
“Like I said, we were married once,” he said as if he had to remind her.
“We’re not now,” she told him flatly.
“No,” he said, then lifted his fingers to tip up her chin, drawing her gaze to meet his. “Your eyes are still so damn blue.”
His whisper shivered inside her. His touch sent bolts of heat jolting through her and Lacy took another breath to steady herself and instead was swamped by his scent, filling her, fogging her mind, awakening memories she’d worked so hard to bury.
“Do you taste the same?” he wondered softly, and lowered his head to hers.
She should stop him, she knew, and yet, she didn’t. Couldn’t. His mouth came down on hers and everything fell away but for what he could make her feel. Lacy’s heart pounded like a drum. Her body ached; her mind swirled with the pleasure, the passion that she’d only ever found with Sam.
It was reaction, she told herself. That was all. It was the ache of her bones, the pain in her heart, finally being assuaged by the man who had caused it all in the first place.
He pulled her in tightly to him and for a brief, amazing moment, she allowed herself to feel the joy in being pressed against his hard, muscled chest again. To experience his arms wrap around her, enfolding her. To part her lips for his tongue and know the wild rush of sensation sweeping through her.
It was all there. Two years and all it took was a single kiss to remind her of everything they’d once shared, they’d once known. Her body leaned into him even as her mind was screaming at her to stop. She burned and in the flames, felt the heat sear every nerve ending. That was finally enough, after what felt like a small eternity, to make her listen to that small, rational internal voice.
Pulling away from him, Lacy shook her head and said, “No. No more. I won’t do it.”
“We just did.”
Her head snapped up, furious with him, but more so with herself. How could she be so stupid? He’d abandoned her and he’s back on the mountain for a single day and she’s kissing him? God, it was humiliating. “That was a mistake.”
“Not from where I’m standing,” Sam said, but she was pleased to see he looked as shaken as she felt.
Small consolation, but she’d take it. The office suddenly seemed claustrophobic. She had to get out. Get into the open where she could think again, where she could force herself to remember all of the pain she’d been through because of him.
“You can’t touch me again, Sam,” Lacy said, and it cost her, because her body was still buzzing as if she’d brushed up against a live wire. “I won’t let you.”
Frowning, he asked, “Loyal to the new guy, huh?”
“No,” she told him flatly, “this is about me. And about protecting myself.”
“From me?” He actually looked astonished. “You really think you need protection from me?”
Could he really not understand this? “You once asked me to trust you. To believe that you loved me and you’d never leave.”
His features went taut, his eyes shuttered. She felt him closing himself down, but she couldn’t stop now.
“But you lied. You did leave.”
His eyes flashed once—with hurt or shame, she didn’t know, couldn’t tell. “You think I planned to leave, Lacy? You think it was something I wanted?”
“How would I know?” she countered, anger and hurt clawing at her insides. “You didn’t talk to me, Sam. You shut me out. And then you walked away. You hurt me once, Sam. I won’t let you do it again. So you really need to back off.”
“I’m here now, Lacy. And there’s no way I’m backing off. This is still my home.”
“But I’m not yours,” she told him, accepting the pain of those words. “Not anymore.”
He took a breath, blew it out and scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. The familiarity of that gesture tugged at her.
“I thought of you,” he admitted, fixing his gaze to hers as his voice dropped to a low throb that seemed to rumble along her spine. “I missed you.”
Equal parts pleasure and pain tore at her heart. The taste of him was still on her mouth, flavoring every breath. Her senses were so full she felt as if she might explode. So she held tight to the pain and let the pleasure slide away. “It’s your own fault you missed me, Sam. You’re the one who left.”
“I did what I had to do at the time.”
“And screw anyone else,” she added for him.
Pushing one hand through his hair, he finally took a step back, giving Lacy the breathing room she so badly needed. “That’s what it looked like, I guess.”
“That’s what it was, Sam,” she told him, and took the opportunity to slip out and move around until the desk once again stood between them like a solid barrier. “You left us all. Me. Your parents. Your sister. You