Either way, my actions were out of character, so I avoided him when possible. But in a town this small, it was inevitable I’d run into him, and each time he discomfited me.
To be fair, despite my dislike of Kane, he still made me wet my panties—in a good way. He was the epitome of good-looking older guy with silver in his hair and a face that had creases in the right places. Another thing to his credit? He didn’t peek up my shirt like a creep or stare at my almost eye-level crotch. He looked at my face, held my gaze as if he found me interesting.
Which I couldn’t figure out. I wasn’t some hot babe who’d aged well. I had crow’s feet and gray in my hair. Weight loss didn’t leave me flawless. Gaining so much left its mark in loose hanging skin around the middle and boobs that needed a bra. Then there were the stretch marks. Silvery things now, but they were all over my body. I looked my age, which wasn’t meant to disparage but act as a reality check. I’d accepted what I’d done to myself, even as I still worked on accepting myself as I was. What I couldn’t get was why a man like Kane—a renowned architect who’d been photographed with some of the most beautiful women in the world—would pay me any attention.
Screw what people said about men being attracted to minds. I called bull on that. That first night when he’d kissed me, we’d barely talked. He had no idea of my politics, beliefs, nothing. But he did know the taste of me and how I moaned when he sucked on my tongue.
Funny how I could remember parts of the kiss, but not other bits.
Tap. Tap.
He rapped on the glass, but I ignored him. I had nothing to say.
Kane stood there for only a second longer before he left, and I let out a breath. Look at me, ghosting a guy.
I yanked some more tape.
Ding-a-ling.
“We’re closed,” I yelled over my shoulder.
“Would you really turn down a potential customer?” Kane’s smooth timber hit me like a spoonful of hot caramel. It slid, sweet and delicious, into me. It felt so good, even as I knew it was so bad for me.
Ignoring him was no longer an option. I sat down on the edge of the bay window and eyeballed Kane. “How can you be a client when you don’t even know what I have to sell?”
“Word on the street is you’ll be dealing in antiques.”
“People are talking about my store?” I brightened.
“Does one person count?” he replied.
“Marjorie.” I could see her telling people at the diner that I’d be opening soon.
“She told me you’re planning to sell antiques.”
“Are you a collector?” Despite my dislike of him, I’d take his money if he bought something.
“I guess you could say that I am. I am fascinated with the past.”
“What do you collect?” I asked, climbing out of the window.
I tried not to imagine how dusty and sweaty I looked. I wasn’t interested in Kane. He’d probably slipped me something that night in the bar. More than likely if I’d been in my right mind, I would have never kissed him.
Lie.
My own mind accused me. I hated it was right. Kane was tall, much taller than me, and broader than I recalled. Handsome. Handsome enough I wondered what would happen if I pressed my lips to his.
As if he sensed my thoughts, his gaze flickered for just a second to my mouth.
Heat licked me in a place that made me want to cross my legs.
“I collect only the finest of things.” He stared at me a moment longer before he turned and headed for my bookcase and its eclectic figurine collection. “I like to be intrigued.” He lifted the shepherdess with her curved crook and the sheep at her feet.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for the type to collect knickknacks.”
“Ah yes, because you’ve learned so much about me from our brief encounters.” He cast me a side eye, and I almost blushed in shame.
I’d made more than one assumption about him, especially once I saw how much Jace, my next-door neighbor, appeared to dislike his half-brother, Kane.
“Why are you really here?” I asked. Because I highly doubted he had a sudden need for the junk lying around my cottage. Nice junk, which, according to my research, would fetch tidy little sums with the right buyers.
“Can’t a man pop in and say hello to a paramour?” His dark gaze flashed with amusement.
“We aren’t lovers,” I huffed.
“We would have been if not interrupted.”
He was so cocky. So sure of himself. I wanted to knock him down a peg. Or three. “I was drunk.”
“Implying that you wouldn’t have kissed me if sober.” His lips quirked. “I assure you, Ms. Rousseaux, I am even more delightful when all your senses can be fully engaged.”
“Says you. I don’t plan on finding out.” I managed a sassy retort, the perfect comeback that was at war with my racing pulse. There was something kind of heady about having a man like Kane flirting with me.
Obviously, he was after something. Why else would he bother? But the woman in me, the one dumped and sorely abused by her husband of over twenty years, needed the ego boost.
Kane set the figurine back down on the shelf. “If only I had time for your challenge. Alas, my business will be taking me out of town for a while.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
“You don’t live here?”
“Sorry, I should have said, the place where I grew up. I need to attend some business.”
“Going to be gone awhile?”
“Perhaps. Are you going to miss me?” He flashed me a smile.
“Why would I miss you? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“More an observation that you’re not actually a part of my life.”
“Which is probably a good thing for you. You don’t want to be involved with me.” An ominous reply.
I snorted. “Is this supposed to be reverse psychology? I reject you so you’re trying the bad-boy, forbidden-fruit angle?”
His expression appeared even more amused. “Do you think me bad?”
“I think you’re up to no good.”
“Which is why you want me.”
“Do not.” A hot retort that was also such a lie.
“If I only had the time to prove you wrong.”
What did that mean? Was he going to kiss me again?
Would I stop him?
I needed him to go before I found out. “Don’t let me keep you. Have a good trip.”
“Is that all you wish to say?” he asked, stepping closer to me. “Not going to offer a more intimate goodbye?”
“I don’t hug thugs.”
His lips quirked. “And here I thought women were attracted to rogues.”
Oh, we were. Damn him. I stared up at him, the cologne he wore tickling my nose with its subtle musky scent. He loomed over me and stared right back. It was hotter than I’d have expected.
His gaze flicked to my mouth… Oh the temptation. It wouldn’t take much to kiss him.
Kiss a man I didn’t know. A man I didn’t like.
What the heck?
2
I frowned and stepped back.
Kane’s expression registered surprise then nothing, as if he’d dropped a mask and all the warm fuzzies left with it.