His eyes narrowed as he watched her and Tula felt the heat of his stare slide into her bones.
“I learned to pay attention. To make rules and follow them. To never let anyone get the best of me. There’s no room in my life for chaos, Tula,” he said.
There was no subtext there and she knew it. He was saying flat out that there was no room in his life for her. She had figured that out for herself, of course. But somehow hearing him say it out loud left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“I saw exactly what happens when a man loses focus,” Simon added. “My dad couldn’t concentrate on work he hated, so he didn’t pay attention. I never lose focus. I guess I did the same thing you did. Made my own choices in spite of the early training by my father.”
And those choices would keep them apart. He couldn’t have been any clearer. So why, she wondered, was he looking at her as if he wanted nothing more than to grab her and carry her up to his bed? Heat filled his eyes even as a chill colored his words. The man was a walking contradiction and Tula really wished she didn’t find that so darned attractive.
She shook her head as if to rid herself of that thought and asked, “What about your mother? Didn’t she have some impact on you, too?”
“No,” he said abruptly. “She died in a car wreck when I was four. Don’t remember her at all.”
“‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t sound like much,” she told him, “but I am.”
“Thanks.” He looked at her again and this time there was emotion glittering in his eyes. She just wished she could decipher it. Simon Bradley touched her in ways she had never experienced before. Even knowing that nothing was going to come of what was simmering between them couldn’t stop her from wishing things were different.
Wishing that just once in her life, someone would see her for who she was and want her.
“Tell me more about your father,” Simon said suddenly. “What’s he like?”
“Like you,” she blurted without thinking.
“Excuse me?”
Tula thought it a little weird that he could look so insulted without even knowing who her father was. “What I mean is, he’s a businessman, too. He practically lives in his office and can’t see anything in his life if it’s not on his profit-loss statements. He’s a workaholic and he likes it that way.”
He leaned back against a pillow tucked up to the wall. “And that’s how you see me?”
“Well, yeah.” Grateful to be off the subject of her own family, Tula said, “You’re a lot like him. Go to work early, come home late—”
“I’m home early today. Have been for the last few days.”
“True and I don’t know what to make of that.”
“I intrigue you?”
“You confuse me.”
“Even better.”
“No,” she said, inching back on the window seat to keep plenty of room between them. “It’s really not, Simon. I don’t need more confusion in my life and you’ve already made it pretty clear what you think about me.”
“That fight we had, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t mean a thing,” he told her and leaned forward.
“That’s not how you felt then,” she reminded him, trying not to notice that he was just within reach of her.
“As I remember it, you had plenty to say, too.”
“Okay, yes. I did. You made me mad.”
“Oh, trust me, you made that perfectly clear.”
“Good then. We both remember that argument.”
“That’s not all we remember,” he said, voice low, thick. He reached for her hand before she could pull back and rubbed his thumb across her palm.
Tula shivered. It wasn’t her fault, she thought frantically. It’s not like she chose to be this attracted to him. It was simple chemistry. A biological imperative. Simon touched her and she went up in flames.
But she could choose to step back from the fire.
“Simon…”
“Tula, we were good together.”
“In bed, sure, but—”
“Let’s just concentrate on the bed for right now, huh?”
Oh, that sounded really good, she silently admitted. That featherlight touch on her palm was already firing up every nerve ending in her body. She took a breath, held it, then released it on a sigh.
Oh, Tula, she thought wildly, you’re going to do it, aren’t you?
Even as that disappointed-in-herself sigh wound through her mind, Tula was leaning in toward Simon.
It was inevitable.
Her gaze locked with his as his mouth touched hers. A whispered groan slid from her throat at that first, gentle contact. And she realized just how much she’d missed him. Missed this. It didn’t seem to matter that they were constantly butting heads. He was right. For now, all she had to concentrate on was what she felt when she was with him. When she surrendered herself to the magic of his touch, his kiss.
No doubt, there would be plenty of time for regrets in the coming weeks and months. For right now there was only him.
As if a floodgate had been opened somewhere inside her, emotions churned, fast and furious throughout her system. She leaned in closer, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His arms closed around her, holding her tightly to his chest and suddenly, the wide window seat seemed too narrow. Too public.
He tumbled her to the floor, assuring that he landed on the hardwood and she was cushioned against his chest.
Her breath left her in a whoosh of sound. She lifted her head, looked down into his eyes and grinned. “You okay?”
He winced, then smiled back. “I’m fine. And I’m about to be better.”
“Promises, promises…”
A wide smile dazzled his eyes and made her heartbeat jump into a gallop. His hands swept up and down her spine and paused long enough to give her behind a quick squeeze.
“I know a challenge when I hear one,” he said and lifted his head from the floor to kiss her again. Harder, deeper, his tongue swept past her defenses and tangled with hers in a sensual dance that stole her breath.
She cupped his face in her palms, loving the feel of his whiskers against her skin. She shivered as his arms tightened around her, holding her so closely she could feel the pounding of his heartbeat shuddering through her.
He rolled over, cradling her in his arms until she was on her back and his heavy weight pressed down on her. Tula sighed, loving the feel of him on top of her. She didn’t mind the hardness of the floor beneath her, because he was too busy making sure she felt nothing but pleasure.