Hot.
He shifted and sat taller. More residual effects from that kiss. Nothing he couldn’t handle if he put his mind to it. She was attractive—sexy, even—but no one to become romantically involved with. Absolutely not. He had a list, a plan, and someone with Sophie’s traits was exempt.
He cleared the thickness from his throat. ‘Your students … do they come to you for advice?’ He used to have a favourite teacher he’d confided in. Paige, his sister, had mentioned one too.
Sophie nodded. ‘One girl in particular. She’s a darling—sixteen—and I think her boyfriend must be putting the hard word on her.’
Paige was sixteen, but thankfully no boyfriend dominated the scene. Because Cooper knew all about teenage boys—virile, myopic, bursting with testosterone. But honestly, when all was said and done … ‘I guess you can’t blame boys for constantly thinking about …’
Thinking about …
Sex. Dammit, they were thinking about sex. He was thinking about it now. The slope of Sophie’s throat, the rise of her breasts, that silver charm bracelet on her left wrist winking in the light, as if beckoning.
Tensing every muscle, he dropped his focus to the glass he now held tight enough to break.
For God’s sake, Smith, snap out of it! Get your mind out of the bedroom.
Sophie’s raised arm fell onto her lap. ‘I understand that human beings are built that way. Hormones, raging sexual cravings to get close … so close you’re practically living in each other’s skin—’ Her gaze cut back to him and she tipped forward, frowning. ‘Are you all right? You look uncomfortable. Are you hot?’ She flipped a finger at his collar. ‘You should undo that top button.’
With adrenaline pumping a million to one beneath his ribs, his next words came out strangled. ‘I think I’ll leave it fastened.’
Her concerned gaze skated over his brow. ‘You might be coming down with something. A horrible flu ripped through my school last week. One minute you’re fine, the next you’re flat on your back.’
She leant closer and his blood began to sizzle. He didn’t need to hear about anyone being on their back.
‘A cold compress might help.’ She thought for a second, then slid her cool glass over his brow. ‘Better?’
He groaned. Oh, dear Lord, yes.
Closing his eyes, he dissolved against the sensation of hot against cold. Her soft body inches from his hard one. He wondered if she would guess his thoughts … how she’d react … what she’d feel like under that dress.
His eyes sprang open.
Enough, already!
As he jumped back his arm bumped hers, and water splashed a cold patch on his crotch. He sprang to his feet at the same time she sprang to hers.
Automatically she brushed his wet trousers, then realised what she was doing. Not that he minded her hands-on attention—not one bit.
Stepping back, she blinked at him several times as a moment of blinding understanding and awareness flashed between them. His gaze ended on her lips, which she wet nervously before announcing, ‘I should go.’
It was the wedding, the talk about sex, the memory of that sensational kiss. That explained why he felt this kind of attraction—hard, fast, totally unreasonable. It had crept up on him like a cat on a mouse. A lucky black cat with big green eyes.
She moved to leave, but his hand snapped out to grasp her charm braceleted wrist. She turned back slowly, chest rising and falling as if she couldn’t get enough air. Mirrored in her eyes he saw the same desire he felt surging through his veins. Right or wrong—possibly both—he had to act.
‘I don’t want you to go.’ Seemed he’d been saying that all night. This minute he meant it more than ever.
Her slender throat bobbed as she swallowed. ‘Why?’
He ground out, ‘You know why.’
He felt her holding her breath, evaluating the situation, going over their conversations. Her words came out a threadbare whisper. ‘We weren’t going to do this.’
‘I changed my mind.’ He had no other explanation. ‘I think you might have too.’
To test his theory, he skimmed a palm up the silken texture of her arm and those earlier tingles caught light. When she didn’t move, he slid that hand around her waist. She examined the motion, then searched his eyes while her own glistened in the soft light. ‘We’re totally incompatible.’
As if drawn by a magnet, he lowered his head to touch her lips oh-so-softly with his. Physical longing curled like a fist in his stomach. ‘Without a word of a lie, right now I only remember how you taste.’
When his mouth met hers again, she kissed him back. As he pulled away, her eyes drifted open. Her sigh was a sound near surrender. ‘I remember too.’
He tugged her closer and her body melded with his—supple, curvaceous, inviting. Nose touching hers, he murmured against her lips, ‘I want you to know I didn’t intend for this to happen.’
She looked both anxious and decided. ‘This is purely physical, right?’
Yes. ‘Purely physical.’ Overpowering, irresistible. No for ever tied in romantic ribbon here.
‘We’re agreed. We won’t pursue this. I’m not what you want. You’re not what I need. We have no future.’
‘But we can have tonight.’
The next kiss left his breathing ragged and left her clinging to his shirt like a lifebuoy. He went in deep, feeling his pulse rate spike, his energies harden, knowing, regardless of what was said next, there was no turning back.
When he let her surface, she was looking over his shoulder, a little amazed. ‘Cooper, you have a painting of butterflies on the wall.’
Tasting her temple, he carefully released the zip down her back. ‘Do I?’ He couldn’t remember.
‘Three white butterflies together. That’s very good luck.’
‘Have you heard the saying, make love three times before dawn and your life will be long and happy?’
She grinned. ‘Think that’s true?’
‘Only one way to find out.’ For a second time that night, he swept her up into his arms.
Their eyes remained glued as he carried her up to his master bedroom.
‘When I first saw you,’ she murmured, ‘I thought you looked dangerous.’
‘And now?’
She touched his cheek. ‘Now I need to know for sure.’
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN they reached the bedroom, Cooper nudged a light switch with his elbow and the glow from a corner lamp faded up. Sophie’s breath caught in her chest as he smiled down at her slung in his arms, lidded eyes compelling and hot.
Neither had planned this. When she’d agreed to accompany him to his room she’d believed they both meant what they’d said. Cooper had made it clear she didn’t fit his requirements. She’d made it just as clear she considered his attitude towards finding a match puritanical. She was through with overbearing men, and one thing she’d learned about Cooper in their short acquaintance was that he absolutely wanted to be boss.
Yet their bodies had overwritten their concerns and made up their minds for them. In the end Cooper Smith’s