Jaci Burton - Melting the Ice

“I’m sure you haven’t. Because that would mean what happened between us mattered. And we both know it didn’t. Right?”

He’d taken a step forward, getting into her personal space.

“Or did it matter?” he asked, his voice going low and soft as he swept one of her curls behind her ear.

She shuddered, as always, lost in the stormy gray depth of his eyes.

He’d always been able to do this to her, to make her forget her resolve and turn her into the inept college girl she’d been all those years ago.

The doorbell rang, and Drew took a step back. Carolina pivoted and went inside to answer the door. Drew was right behind her, surprising her.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, his wallet already open as he paid for the food and tipped the delivery guy.

“I could have done that,” she said, following behind him after she shut the door.

“I know you could have, but since I’m the one who insisted on dinner, I figured I should be the one to pay.”

“Fine. Let’s eat.” She was starting the countdown. Fifteen minutes for food and conversation, another fifteen for after-dinner talk, then he was gone.

She grabbed plates and laid out the cartons of food on her table. Drew had gone out to the balcony to grab his beer.

“Can I fix you something to drink?” he asked, obviously comfortable enough to open her cabinets and grab himself a glass.

“I’ll just have a glass of water.”

He ended up taking down two glasses. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

She didn’t want him to be nice. She wanted to think about him as he’d been in the past, like that night in college when he’d slept with her and dumped her the next day, effectively ruining her girlish fantasies about him.

But that was in the past. She was a grown-up and a lot of time had passed.

She was over it. Over him.

Right?

Except he was even more gorgeous now than he’d been in college. He’d filled out in places, slimmed down in others. He still wore his hair a little long and shaggy, which she found irresistibly appealing. His cheeks were more chiseled now, his jaw more angular, making her focus on those spectacularly sexy eyes of his that had always drawn her to him. Eyes that right now were zeroed in on her like a hawk zeroed in on its prey.

Yeah. Not gonna happen.

So instead, she scooped some chicken teriyaki and sesame noodles onto her plate, concentrating on the food instead of Drew.

“So what made you decide to launch your own line?” he asked as he lifted a forkful of rice up to his mouth.

Which of course made her raise her head just as he closed his mouth over the fork, which made her focus on his lips. Drew had very full lips, and despite all the years that had passed since—since they’d been intimate, she could still remember what it felt like when his mouth had pressed against the side of her neck, and what he had tasted like, and how gentle he’d been with her, since it had been her first time.

She’d lost herself in that night, that only night with him. And it had taken a goddamned eternity to get over him.

“Carolina.”

She jerked her head up. “What?”

He smiled at her. “What made you decide to launch your own line now?”

“Oh.” That’s right. He’d asked her that question and she’d zoned out, slipping into the past so easily, like she always did whenever he was near. “I couldn’t handle working for David Faber any longer.”

“What didn’t you like about working for him?”

After swallowing, she took a sip of water and laid her fork down. “Where to start? He’s demanding, which I can handle. Designers often are. The difference with David is that he’s high-strung all the time, which creates such a nerve-racking workplace. And he’s such a jealous bitch, treating his designers like slaves, refusing to let them provide any input. It was stifling working for him, which was why I accelerated my move to designing my own line. If he’d once taken any of my suggestions rather than treating me like nothing more than a seamstress, I might have stayed with him, because the man is truly brilliant. But he’s so neurotic and so afraid someone’s going to steal his designs, he’s impossible to work with.”

Drew studied her. “Hard to work in an environment where your contributions aren’t appreciated.”

And just like that, he’d nailed it, when she’d thought for sure he’d just nod and say “uh-huh” or something like that. “Yes, it was. Not that I expected to take over or anything, but I had good ideas, dammit. Ideas that would have helped his line. Not myself, but him.”

“I understand. And it’s his loss, isn’t it? Because you’re going to create your own line now and kick his ass.”

Admittedly, she was shocked by the compliment. “I don’t know about that. But taking that step was freeing in a way I never thought it would be. At least initially.”

“And now you’re nervous because you’re on your own now and you don’t know if you’ll succeed.”

He was also annoyingly keen at identifying her biggest worry. “Maybe.”

“Don’t be worried. You’ll be great.”

She pushed her half-empty plate to the side. “How can you be so confident, when you know nothing about me?”

“Easy,” he said, standing and moving into the living room, where she’d shoved her sketches onto one of the side tables. He picked them up. “This. And this. They’re good, Lina.”

She took a deep breath as his gaze caught and held hers. “You’re hardly knowledgeable about fashion, Drew.”

“Maybe not. But I know what looks good on a woman. You’ve always dressed well. I think you have a keen eye for what makes a woman feel great about herself. And I’d bet you could do the same for a man. You’ve never lacked for confidence.” He gave her a wicked grin. “Hell, you even threw yourself at me back in college.”

Ugh. She couldn’t believe he’d brought that up. “Don’t remind me.”

He came back into the kitchen. “Do you know how much courage that took? It was a huge turn-on, and it showed me how ballsy you were. You were just a girl back then. You’re a woman now. I don’t think anything can stop you from having whatever you want.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze again.

She lifted her eyes to his and, with him so close, the heat that always seemed to emanate from him surrounded her, enveloping her in a haze of not-so-forgotten lust and longing.

“That’s a nice thing to say.” He’d always said nice things to her—when he wanted something. Which made her wonder exactly what it was that he wanted now.

She studied him, the woman she was now not nearly as naïve as the young girl she’d been back then.

“Exactly what are you after here, Drew? A repeat performance from college?” She pushed her chair back and stood, creating distance between the two of them. “Because if you are, I can assure you it’s not going to happen.”

She made sure to keep eye contact with him, so he understood clearly her meaning. “Never again. Ever.”

DREW FOUGHT THE URGE TO SMILE AT THE LOOK Carolina gave him. Man, she was fierce and determined to not show that she gave a shit about him, while her body and her eyes betrayed her, just like they had back in college.

If there was one thing he could do and do well, it was read a woman’s body language, and Carolina was all tight with tension and nerves. She always had been around him.

And he’d been a class-A douchebag back then, had taken advantage of a young woman who’d had an obvious crush on him, had used her and discarded her in the dickhead way young guys did. He still felt like shit about it all these years later.