Harlequin Superromance September 2017 Box Set. Jeannie Watt

“What are your true thoughts right now?” It was almost as if he couldn’t help but edge toward trouble with this woman.

      “You want the blistering truth?” she asked.

      “I can take it.”

      “I think you don’t want to like me. I think you’re working hard to push me away.”

      Cole stilled. His first impulse was to deny it. His second was to admire her instincts. His third was to back up fast. “I have nothing against you.”

      Her eyes narrowed and her lips curved into a humorless smile, telling him that she wasn’t fooled. Not even a little. “But…”

      “No but.”

      “Liar.” She spoke softly, holding his gaze in a way that warned him not to underestimate her. “But I’ll let it go in the name of future peaceful calf feedings and wonderful days sorting junk.” Taylor took off her gloves and uncapped the water bottle sitting on the tailgate. “I’m done for the day. I have a Skype interview in an hour.”

      She started to walk away, and Cole realized that even though the sane thing would be to let her walk away, he wasn’t done.

      He took hold of her arm as she went past him, and she stopped, her gaze slowly coming up to meet his. “You’re right,” he said.

      “I know.” Her voice was low and husky. It made him think of sex, although he didn’t think that was her intention. Didn’t matter. It came off that way.

      “Getting closer will complicate things.”

      “We wouldn’t want that.” She spoke softly as her gaze moved down to his lips and held. “But you don’t have to be a jerk to me. Just…talk.”

      He pulled in a breath. Her muscles were taut beneath his grip, light as it was. She could have easily moved away, but she didn’t. She finally pulled her gaze from his mouth, her expression shifting ever so slightly as she met his eyes, then reached up to touch his face as he’d touched hers in the SUV the day she’d taken him to the doctor. Her fingers moved over his cheekbone, trailed down his jaw, brushed lightly over his lips, making his nerves sing and his dick jump.

      She leaned closer. “If we kiss—”

      He didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence, didn’t wait for her to set goals or outline parameters. He made the if a reality, releasing her arm and sliding his hand around the back of her neck as he brought his mouth down to hers.

      Taylor gasped against his lips, even though she’d known the kiss was coming—maybe because she felt the same surge of raw need that he did as their mouths melded together and their tongues met. And what should have been a test-the-waters kiss became a long, deep exploratory kiss. One that had the blood pounding in his veins and his hands skimming over her body before he pulled her more tightly against him. He raised his head briefly, then went back for more. Taylor met him halfway as reality blurred. Dynamite in his hands.

      When he raised his head for the second time, Taylor’s lips clung to his and her eyes remained closed, as if she were savoring, keeping the moment for as long as she could. When she opened her eyes, she stepped back, putting space between them that seemed more like a chasm than a few feet of gravel. A slight frown drew her brows together as she lightly pressed her fingers against her lips, as if checking for damage, which only made him want to kiss her again.

      “Aren’t you going to say that you didn’t see that coming?” she asked in a low voice.

      He shook his head. Kissing Taylor had been inevitable. Like it or not, even when he’d thought she was a princess through and through, he’d been drawn to her. At first, he’d assumed it was wanting what was off-limits. Now he knew what he felt toward her was more complex, harder to define. Troublesome.

      “No. That was the reason I was trying to push you away.”

      “Well,” she said, wiping her hands down the sides of her jeans, as if she’d just finished a tough job, “you should have worked harder at that.”

      “It was the thick skin you mentioned. Things seem to bounce off you.”

      “At least it appears that way,” she said before clearing her throat. “I have to do my networking.”

      Of course she did. Kiss and move on.

      But Cole didn’t see this being a done deal. He couldn’t help but think that it was a good thing she was going…and that working with her was going to be a hell of a lot more interesting.

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      TAYLOR HEADED BACK to the bunkhouse, taking care not to walk too fast. Not to look too affected.

      Holy smoke, but that guy could kiss.

      This is no big deal. Get your breath. How many times had she kissed a guy and they’d gone their separate ways, no harm, no foul?

      Many.

      How many times had she done it when she’d had to interact with the guy on a daily basis? None. She’d taken the maxim about not getting involved with coworkers seriously, so maybe that was why this felt different.

      He isn’t a coworker.

      But still…

      A one-time deal. That was all this was. Shake it off. If he thought it was more…well, she’d set him straight.

      She let herself into the bunkhouse and settled at the computer, checked her email, researched possible contacts, noted that the market was tightening even more, damn her luck.

      There was a text from Carolyn waiting on her phone—a selfie of her and her new beau with a glacier behind them. Carolyn looked happy, and Taylor smiled at the photo. Carolyn sought out relationships the same way that Taylor had avoided them. Depend on yourself, her mother had told her at least five or six times a week as she was growing up. Depend on yourself and you’ll be happier and more secure than if you depend on others.

      Cecilia had lived her life that way. She’d been in a relationship with her artist husband, Jess, for almost a decade, but it was on her terms. He was the one who adjusted when compromise was necessary. In Taylor’s mind, it didn’t seem like a healthy way to run a relationship, but they seemed happy, at least on the surface. Surely Jess had to be going a little crazy, always bending and giving?

      When Taylor was in a relationship—and usually she was not—she did fine in the beginning, but when it came to adapting and changing, the fear factor kicked in. What if she changed, gave up what was important to her, and then the deal crumbled? Where would she be then?

      What if she couldn’t get back what she’d given up, or if she lost a piece of herself?

      Getting through the divorce, and her father’s death, and now being fired, she felt as if she’d lost enough of herself.

      So where did that leave her with Cole?

      Excellent question. The pooling of sensual warmth in her midsection at the thought of that crazy-hot kiss was probably not a good sign—especially when she couldn’t say she didn’t want more. Sure, it was threatening, but it was also heady, and she wasn’t about to run or hide.

      Taylor got to her feet and went to the small window over the sink, studied the house where Cole was now…what? Analyzing what had just happened? Or had he pushed it out of his mind?

      If he could do that, he was tougher than she was.

      And he wasn’t.

      Taylor pushed off the sink, rolling her shoulders, which had stiffened up. So she’d kissed him. Whatever.

      And, with that, she was right back to where she’d been when she’d crossed the drive from the house to the bunkhouse. And that was exactly where she was going to stay.

      No. Big. Deal.

      She