Family Secrets

“Charlotte...!” He clenched his hands into fists, controlling himself with visible effort. “No one has ever been able to rile me the way you do,” he said as if it pained him to admit it. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“If I do.” she said, feeling a flash of vindictive pleasure, “it certainly isn’t because I try.”

“No?” He took a step toward her. “There are a lot of different ways to get to somebody. It isn’t always in anger. Once...”

Her mouth felt dry and she took another swallow of her drink. “I don’t want to hear about ‘once,’ ” she said. “What’s past is past.”

“Think so? I wonder.” He moved toward her, his dark eyes glittering with determination.

Sharlee wanted to run. She wanted to turn around and bolt into her bedroom and slam the door. But that was what a child would do, and hadn’t she been trying to convince him, and by proxy her parents and grandparents, that she hadn’t been a child in a long time?

She raised her chin and stood her ground. “Give it up, Dev. You don’t do a thing for me anymore.”

“No? And all evening I’ve been thinking otherwise.”

Her pulse leaped. “That’s your problem.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. She could pull away, shove his hands aside. She could scream at the top of her lungs if she wanted to and the weight lifter across the hall would be in here before Dev knew what hit him.

Or she could face him down. Look him in the eye and let him see that this approach wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “If you think you’re scaring me, you’re wrong,” she informed him.

“Why would I want to scare you?”

He slid one hand up the slope of her shoulder until he touched her bare skin beyond the collar of her blouse. His thumb stroked lightly on the indentation at the base of her throat and she wondered if he could feel her racing pulse.

She held steady. She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t even like him anymore; certainly, she didn’t trust him.

“You’re wasting your time, Devin. I’m way beyond that, where you’re concerned.”

The movement of his lips mesmerized her to the point that his words only registered belatedly. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“About what?” Oh, she was handling this just fine!

“Whether any of the old feelings still exist. Whether there’s the least little spark left.”

“I’m not a bit curious about any of that.” But she was! She was dying to know what it would be like to...to kiss him again, nothing more. She wouldn’t think about the rest of it—if she could avoid it with his hands on her the way they were now, stroking, coaxing.

“You lie.” He leaned so close it took all her willpower not to flinch. “We’re not kids anymore. You wonder if it will be the same, worse or better. My money’s on better.”

“My money’s on...indifferent.” He was taking control away from her and she had to get it back. “Why don’t we just find out?”

She put her arms around his neck—careful of the drink she still held in her right hand. Looking into his eyes with all the insolence she could summon, she pressed her lips to his.

And for that instant, she was in control. Moving her mouth against his in little nibbling kisses, she felt her confidence growing. All right; it was just all right, nothing more. She could step away anytime she wanted, confident that...

He came to life as if exiting some twilight zone, pressing his lips against hers as if he wanted to devour her. Sparks raced along to her nerve endings and she tasted trouble.

This was the man who’d taught her to kiss—not given her the first one, but taught her how powerful a kiss could be. There was no way on earth she could resist the deluge of memories or the stunning sensations that made her right hand relax...

He jumped away from her. “What the hell?” Twisting, he pulled the shirt away from his back.

The wet shirt.

It took her an instant to realize the ice and liquid in her glass had soaked him. All that cold must have been quite a shock.

She stared at him, mortified, trying not to giggle.

He glared. “Did you do that on purpose?”

As if she’d been able to think straight enough to plan such a revenge. It was ludicrous. She smiled, shrugged, hoped he’d believe she’d had that much presence of mind.

Surprisingly the outrage left his face. “Very good,” he said approvingly, “but that was still a rotten thing to do. You owe me, chère.”

The endearment was beginning to sound natural. “I don’t owe you diddly,” she said. Pulling herself together, she glanced pointedly toward the door. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”

“You’re not getting off that easy.”

If he put his hands on her again she’d... God only knew what she’d do, but she wasn’t eager to find out. “Devin—”

“You can make amends for that dirty trick by thinking about what I said earlier—about your grandmother, I mean.” He gave up on the shirt and quit trying to hold it away from his back. “Think about this sensibly and maybe you can find it in your heart to... Sharlee, I know you love your grandparents. Don’t let—I don’t know what it is, stubborn pride, maybe? Some grudge I know nothing about? Whatever’s made you so bitter, don’t let it stand between you and doing the right thing.”

With every word he spoke, her mouth tightened until it felt like a grim hard line. “Dammit, Dev, that’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” he said. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

She had to get him out of here. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”

He let out a sigh. “Thanks. That’s all I ask. Call me in the morning? Here’s the number of my hotel.” He picked up his jacket and drew a business card from his pocket, dropping it on the card table.

She didn’t look at it. “All right.”

“Promise?”

“Yes! Now will you go?”

He went.

And as promised she thought... mostly about that kiss.

SHE CALLED HIM the next morning before leaving for work. He answered the phone sounding alert, even eager.

“Mornin’, chère. Nice of you to call.”

She wasn’t interested in idle chitchat. “About what you asked me to think about last night—”

“Tell me at breakfast,” he cut in quickly. “I saw a great-looking place between here and your apartment. I thought maybe we could—”