Her big sister had been right about all of that. But Sasha had ignored the warnings. Just as she was ignoring the alarms blaring in her ears now.
Go. Walk away. She’d got what she wanted from him.
Hadn’t she? ‘So. Is that it? I should go now.’
‘Unless...’ His hand was on her arm now.
‘I don’t...I can’t...’ Can’t think.
‘Hush, Sasha. I don’t want anything you don’t want to give.’ He’d said that line before too. And she’d ached to give him everything, but every single time she’d stopped short. Unable to truly let go. With him, or anyone else since.
His voice was thick and gruff as the pad of his thumb stroked along her arm, and it felt as if he were stroking her insides too. Her breathing matched his as his fingers wound up the back of her neck, her nerve endings on full alert, rooting her to the spot. ‘I’d forgotten just how beautiful you are. How intensely you feel things. Ten years, but you haven’t changed so much.’
‘You want to bet? If you think I’m still that little lost girl I used to be then you’re very mistaken. I’ve worked hard to be who I am now. I’ve changed more than you could imagine.’
‘Yes.’ He smiled as he unhooked a strand of her hair that had caught in her dress strap, then he glanced down her body. ‘I guess you have.’
Oh, God. She didn’t want him touching her in some sort of rose-coloured grasp at something they’d had, too long ago. Rewinding wouldn’t achieve anything but heartache, and moving forward meant grasping her self-respect and waiting for Mr Right, not grabbing a quickie on a couch—however nice—with Mr Very Wrong.
Typical, the first time in years her hormones were demanding usage, and it just had to happen with Mr So-Far-From-Safe not even one of her health and safety policies could help her.
Her hand reached to his hard wall of chest to push him away. But the feel of his T-shirt beneath her palm, and the heat of his skin beneath that, made her fingers curl into the fabric.
His face closed in, his eyes telling her what he wanted, his so familiar spicy scent weaving round her in a sensual web. Breathing became laboured as she waited for the moment she felt his lips against hers. Waiting to see if he still kissed the same way after all this time.
His head inclined towards her but he paused, his face swimming with a mixture of emotions, the most profound of which was confusion. Giving her just enough time for her doubts to jump in and fill the gap.
Wiggle away from the sex god, Sasha.
She knew who she was now, what she wanted, and it definitely wasn’t inviting trouble back into her life.
Finding strength from who knew where, she pushed him gently away, then swung her feet to the floor and slipped on her shoes. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Nathan. It might be the way you crazy rock stars roll, but it’s not how I do things.’ Or was this how he wanted to be paid for his help?
Yikes.
‘What? Have you invented a whole new way of doing things in Chesterton? In LA-LA land we usually start with a kiss and then see how things pan out...’
‘Nothing’s going to pan out. Is it just a game to you? Something for old times’ sake? Play the silly ex-girlfriend and see how far you can get. What happened to leaving the past alone?’
‘I was just getting caught up in the moment.’ His smile was genuine and warm and reflected in his eyes. Which made her feel even worse. He stood calmly and offered her his hand. ‘And so were you.’
Good point. ‘But I can’t just live in a moment, Nate. My life’s not a wild ride like yours. I have responsibilities, I have to work, to pay the mortgage, I have to be a good role model to my students. Moments don’t count, the big picture does.’
Her sister Cassie would kiss and walk away without a second’s thought. No, Cassie would stay the night and not have a qualm. Cassie would relish the chance of grasping a little vicarious fame, enjoy the buzz of being with a celebrity.
But Sasha wasn’t Cassie. She couldn’t do the one-kiss thing, and definitely not the one-night thing. She was a for-ever girl, plain and simple, so there was no way she’d let herself get carried away with him. Especially not to then watch him leave again.
Shaking his touch away as quickly as she could, she smoothed down her dress and her nerves. ‘I’ll see you at the gig in two weeks. Thanks for taking the time to see me. And for helping in this project.’
‘No, seriously, the pleasure was all mine.’ But his eyes had darkened and he looked as bewildered as she felt. Standing up, he reached for the hotel phone. ‘I’ll call the car.’
‘You’ll do no such thing. I can find my way home from Mayfair.’ The further she got away from him, the better. And quickly. Spending time in his car with his people wouldn’t help her a jot. And she didn’t need to owe him any more. The one lesson she’d learned from her father’s suicide—never owe anyone anything.
Nate captured her gaze and shook his head in an I’ll-never-understand-you kind of gesture, but eventually capitulated to her firm stance. ‘Then at least let me walk you to the tube.’
‘No. I’m just fine. Thank you. I can manage the tube—’ And then she remembered their phone conversation, his chat with Dario the bear in the gent’s.
Her hand covered her mouth in horror. She’d been about to commit the most heinous sin in her own book: kissing a man who was already committed to someone else. Her brain had clearly fried with lust. ‘And what about your girlfriend?’
‘Girlfriend? I haven’t got—’
‘The other night, after the gig, didn’t you have a date? And then...eugh, the tramp twins in the limo? What kind of person are you, Nathan?’
‘Misunderstood?’ His hands curled into tight fists as bewilderment turned to bitterness. ‘Story of my life.’
‘I’ve pegged you as a lot of things over the years, reading reports of you drinking yourself into oblivion, partying for days on end, and hooking up with the most...’ she tried to think of a word that didn’t sound as condemning or derogatory as her thoughts ‘...quirky of girlfriends. But I never thought of you as someone who uses women. Not until now.’
Grabbing her handbag, she dashed to the door and down the stairs as quickly as she could.
Only when she’d reached the tube station did she realise that, along with her pride, she’d left her messenger bag and files on his couch. Goddamn. The man was turning her brain to a soggy hot mess.
But there was no way she was going back to fetch them, not tonight. Not when she’d had to rip her body away from him. Not when she had only one thing on her mind where Nate Munro was concerned. And it certainly didn’t include a whole lot of paper.
* * *
Insane.
Yep. Insane in every aspect. Nate stood outside the grimy red brick walls of his old high school and felt the familiar tightening in his gut. How he’d allowed himself to be talked into this he didn’t know. And by a woman who hadn’t changed much at all no matter how much she protested to the contrary. She still shot first and asked questions...never.
Don’t ask, but jump to conclusions. Check.
Don’t give him a chance to explain. Check.
That was Sasha all over.
Just being here in this rundown dead-end school was bad enough, never mind spending more time with her.
He found her in the old school hall. Nothing had changed here either—the whole scenario was as if he’d rewound ten years to his adolescent nightmares. If this was the punishment for being