The haze of desire was slow to lift inside Xander’s head, and it took him several seconds to realise that Samantha was pushing against him.
His head lifted slowly as he looked at her, those perfect rounded breasts quickly rising and falling as she breathed heavily, her cheeks pale, her kiss-swollen lips parted, and her eyes wide pools of anguish.
Anguish?
Because Xander had kissed and caressed her?
Kisses and caresses she had seemed to enjoy?
Seemed...
Could Xander be wrong about Samantha’s response? Could he have wanted to kiss and touch her so much that he had mistaken her initial lack of protest as encouragement?
Was it possible that it had been so long since he last spent any time with a woman, held a woman in his arms, that he had misread the signals? That he was so physically frustrated he was guilty of kissing the first woman who had seemed willing?
Well, that last bit wasn’t true, at least; the bridesmaid at the wedding had been more than willing to share his bed tonight. Hell, she had been more than willing for them to book into a room at the hotel for the night!
She just hadn’t been the woman that Xander wanted.
Because the woman now lying beneath him was the woman he wanted. Samantha Smith. Mother to Daisy Smith.
And the ex-wife of the man who had upset her earlier at the hotel...
Damn it, of course he had misread the signals!
Samantha hadn’t been inviting him to kiss her just now. He had seen it himself; she had been in need of comfort after being so suddenly, so unexpectedly, confronted by her ex-husband. And then her daughter had woken screaming from a nightmare. A nightmare that had caused Daisy to turn to him for that same comfort.
Xander lifted himself up and away from Samantha before standing up, instantly wincing as the aching pain intensified in his leg. ‘I’m sorry.’ He ran an agitated hand through the heavy thickness of his hair.
The same hair that Samantha had tugged and pulled on a short time ago as she’d returned—when he had thought she’d returned—the heat of his kisses. Hell, maybe she had been trying to push him away even then!
Xander turned away from the guilt he felt just looking at Samantha as she refastened her bra and straightened her sweater before sitting upright on the sofa, her eyes dark and bruised-looking, her lips puffy from their kisses. ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated abruptly. ‘That really was inappropriate of me.’
Sam knew it had been.
But oh, how she wished she hadn’t needed to stop their kisses but could instead have taken what Xander had so obviously been offering: a night of uncomplicated and passionate sex.
Except it wouldn’t be uncomplicated, not when Xander was the man she wanted to make love with, rather than her ex-husband who was demanding she go to bed with him again. Just thinking about Malcolm’s threats earlier was enough to give her nightmares!
But her problems had nothing to do with Xander. The only reason she was staying in his apartment at all was to take care of him.
This was a job, for goodness’ sake.
A job that certainly didn’t come with the fringe benefit of sleeping with the boss.
Thank goodness Xander had spoken to her and broken the sensual spell she had fallen under, reminding her of where she was. Who she was with!
She was just so aware of his lethal attraction. The desire he had aroused in her that she had thought long dead.
But it wasn’t only that. She was just as drawn to knowing the reasons behind those dark shadows that she occasionally saw lurking in the depths of his eyes. As if he had his own painful memories he had to deal with on a daily basis. Memories Sam wanted to know, and possibly share with him.
Which was utterly ridiculous.
Why on earth would Xander Sterne, billionaire playboy, have any painful memories, let alone want to share them with someone like her?
Admittedly his father had died when Xander was still quite young, which must have been difficult for him, but other than that he had led a charmed life. He was rich as Croesus, was obviously loved by his twin and his mother and stepfather. And, if the bridesmaid from earlier was any example, then women were obviously falling over themselves just to be with him.
So why on earth would he ever feel anything more than a fleeting attraction towards her, let alone a need to share any of his private life with the woman hired to take care of him while his brother was away on his honeymoon?
He wouldn’t, came the unequivocal answer.
Even if there was something to share. Which there so obviously wasn’t.
‘I am sorry, Samantha.’
She didn’t look at Xander as she nodded abruptly. ‘So am I.’
‘What do you have to be sorry about?’
A desire that had shocked her to her core.
Acknowledging Xander’s lethal attraction and acting upon it were two distinctly different things, when Sam hadn’t so much as looked at a man with interest since the end of her marriage to Malcolm. Even without Malcolm’s threats earlier this evening, her ex-husband’s unreasonable behaviour during their marriage should have been a stark lesson to her never to be fooled again by a good-looking face and a charming manner.
Tonight she had definitely returned the hunger of Xander’s kisses. And allowed Xander to touch her more intimately than any other man had but her husband. She’d also been aroused in a way she could never remember being aroused before. Not even at the start of her marriage to Malcolm, the man she had believed herself to be in love with...
And that knowledge now terrified her!
She didn’t want to feel anything for Xander Sterne beyond the necessary concern of a carer for her charge. She didn’t want to like him. Or desire him. She certainly didn’t want to ever be stupid enough to fall in love with him!
‘Go to bed, Samantha,’ Xander bit out harshly as he saw the way her face had now paled. ‘I’ll manage to undress myself this evening and you can help me shower in the morning,’ he assured her dryly as she looked at him questioningly.
Her expression was noticeably one of relief. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Very,’ Xander confirmed as Samantha rushed from the room.
Or a lustful Xander Sterne...
‘GET IN THE CAR, SAM!’
It was such a pleasant sunny Monday morning that Sam had decided to walk Daisy to school, before leaving her daughter safely in her classroom.
Despite Malcolm’s threats on Saturday night—threats Sam had been trying to forget all weekend—she was completely unprepared, as she left the school grounds, to see Malcolm sitting behind the wheel of the sleek black saloon car, the passenger-seat window lowered so that he could speak to her.
Sam desperately tried to gather her scattered wits together as she glared into the open window at him. She didn’t fool herself for a moment that this was going to be any more pleasant a meeting than the one on Saturday evening had been.
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed to blue chips of ice as she made no move to do as he instructed. ‘Get in the damned car, Sam,’ he repeated harshly. ‘Unless you would prefer I get out of the car and we talk right there on the pavement?’ he added challengingly, as several of the other mothers leaving the school gave them obviously curious looks as they walked past them.