Joss Wood - If You Can't Stand the Heat...

And while I say that I want everyone to be happy I frequently resent the fact that she left, that Merri left—okay, temporarily—and I have to carry on, pick up the pieces. When do I get to step away?

‘So, you’re stressed out and doing the work of two other people?’

‘And none of it well,’ Ellie added, her tone sulky.

Jack smiled. ‘Now, tell me about having to move.’

Ellie gave him the rundown and cradled her glass of wine in her hands. She felt lighter for telling him, grateful to hand over the problem just for a minute. She didn’t expect him to solve the problem, but just being able to verbalise her emotions was liberating.

And, amazingly, Jack just listened—without offering a solution, a way to fix it. If he wasn’t ripped and didn’t have a stubble-covered jaw and a very masculine package she could almost pretend he was a girlfriend. He listened like one. Keep dreaming, she thought. Not in a million years could she pretend that Jack was anything but a hard-ass—literally and metaphorically—one hundred per cent male.

Ellie yawned, curled her legs up and felt her eyes closing. She felt Jack take the glass from her hand and forced her eyes open.

‘Come on. You’re dead on your feet.’ Jack took her hands and hauled her up.

He’d either overestimated her weight or underestimated his strength because she flew into his chest and her hands found themselves splayed across his pecs, warm and hard and...ooooh... Her nose was pressed against his sternum. She sucked him in along with the breath she took...man-soap, man-smell...Jack.

She felt tiny next to his muscled frame as his hands loosely held her hips, fingers on the top of her bottom. A lazy thumb stroked her hipbone through the chef’s jacket and Ellie felt lust skitter along her skin. She slowly lifted her head and looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. There was half a smile on his face, yet his eyes were dark and serious...

He lifted his hand and gently rested his fingers on her lips. She knew what he was thinking...that he wanted to kiss her. Intended to kiss her.

Ellie just looked up at him with big eyes. She felt like a deer frozen in the headlights, knowing that she should pull away, unable to do so. She could feel his hard body against hers, his rising chest beneath her palms. His arms were strong, his shoulders broad. She felt feminine and dainty and...judging by the amount of action in his pants...desired.

He stepped back at the same time as she pushed him away. She shoved her hands into her hair, squinting at him in the moonlight. This was crazy... She was adult enough to recognise passion that could be perilous—wild, erratic and swamping. But lust, as she’d learnt, clouded her thinking and stripped away her practicality. Lust, teamed with the brief emotional connection she’d felt earlier, when she’d opened up a little to him, had her running scared.

Bum magnet.

Jack cocked his head. ‘So, not a good idea, huh?’

Ellie bit her lip. ‘Really not.’

Jack lifted a shoulder and sent her a rueful smile. ‘Okay. But you’re a very tempting sight in the moonlight so maybe we should go in before I try to change your mind.’

When she didn’t move, Jack reached out and ran a thumb over her bottom lip.

‘You can’t just stand there looking up at me with those incredible eyes, Ellie. Go now, before I forget that I am, actually, a good guy. Because we both know that I could persuade you to stay.’

Ellie erred on the side of caution and fled inside.

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