Maureen Child - Dynasties - The Jarrods

A muscle ticked in his jaw and she saw the flare of anger in his eyes. She recognized it because she knew that same emotion was shining in her own. She’d spent the past several days torn between anger and misery, but now the fury was spilling over.

He reached for her, but she scuttled back, not trusting herself to allow him to touch her right now. She might shatter. Need swam inside her and battled her own pride. It was a toss-up at the moment which would win.

“I told you,” he said, letting his hands fall to his sides, “I can’t risk what I spent my life building. But it’s also true that you’ve got too much going on in your own life right now. You don’t need me making things even more complicated.”

“Oh, stop it,” she whispered, shaking her head. She’d already trusted him too much, risked too much. She couldn’t chance feeling even more. Trusting more. He’d already pushed her aside. How much clearer could he make himself?

“Wish I could,” he admitted, coming around her desk, walking closer and closer still. “Wish to hell I could put you and what’s between us out of my mind, but it won’t go.”

She laughed sadly, thinking of the past few days when he’d avoided her at all costs. “It seems you’ve been doing a fine job of that.”

“No. You’re in my mind all the damn time. You haunt me, Erica, and I’m not sure how to deal with that.” He reached out, and this time she didn’t move away. Couldn’t make herself do it.

He cupped her face between his palms. Staring into her eyes, he said, “What’s between us won’t be denied and neither one of us can wish it away.”

“Can’t we?” she asked, her voice soft as she met his gaze searchingly. “Isn’t that what’s been happening lately?”

“No,” he countered. “This is what’s been happening.”

Then he kissed her. Hard and deep, pouring into that kiss everything she’d been needing for so long. Her head swam, her heartbeat quickened into a racing gallop and by the time he broke away, she was laboring for breath.

Yet at the same time a tiny corner of her heart was erecting barriers, ready to defend her.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “I can feel you pulling away even when I’m holding you.”

“Haven’t you been doing the same thing these last few days?”

“No,” he answered, releasing her and taking a step back. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

“Because you won’t risk caring for me.”

“Because this is my life,” he reminded her, and his features were hard.

“It’s my life, too,” she told him, stiffening her spine. “And I won’t be used then discarded on a whim. You can’t run hot and then cold on me, Christian. I refuse to play that game.”

“You’re wrong about me,” he said tightly. “I’m not playing games, Erica. I wouldn’t do that to either one of us.”

She scraped her hands up and down her arms, trying to chase away the chill that was swamping her. But it was bone-deep and she was suddenly sure that she’d never be really warm again. What she felt for Christian was going nowhere. Because he would continue to refuse what lay between them. Once again, Erica thought sadly, she just wasn’t wanted badly enough.

When he was gone, Erica slumped into her desk chair, turned it around and stared out at a sunlit day that had gone, for her at least, suddenly dark.

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