Harden

She moaned. The sound penetrated his mind, aroused him even more. He felt her legs trembling against his blatant arousal, and he forced his mouth to lift, his hands to clasp her waist and hold her roughly away from him while he fought for control of his senses.

Her face was flushed, her eyes half closed, drowsy with pleasure. Her soft mouth was swollen, still lifted, willing, waiting.

He shook her gently. “Stop it,” he said huskily. “Or I’ll have you right here, standing up.”

She stared up at him only half comprehending, her breath jerking out of her tight throat, her heart slamming at her ribs. “What…happened?” she whispered.

He let go of her and stepped back, his face rigid with unsatisfied desire. His chest heaved with the force of his breathing. “God knows,” he said tersely.

“I’ve…I’ve never…” she began, flustered with embarrassment.

“Oh, hell, I’ve ‘never,’ either,” he said irritably. “Not like that.” He had to fight for breath. He stared at her, fascinated. “That can’t happen again. Ever.”

She swallowed. She’d known that, too, but there had been a tiny hope that this was the beginning of something. Impossible, of course. She was a widow of barely one month, with emotional scars from the loss of her husband and child, and he was a man who obviously didn’t want to get involved. Wrong time, wrong place, she thought sadly, and wondered how she was going to cope with this new hurt. “Yes. I know,” she said finally.

“Goodbye, Miranda.”

Her eyes locked with his. “Goodbye, Harden.”

He turned with cold reluctance and opened the door again. He could still taste her on his mouth, and his body was taut with arousal. He paused with the doorknob in his hand. He couldn’t make himself turn it. His spine straightened.

“It’s too soon for you.”

“I…suppose so.”

There had been a definite hesitation there. He turned and looked at her, his eyes intent, searching.

“You’re a city girl.”

That wasn’t quite true, but he obviously wanted to believe it. “Yes,” she said.

He took a slow, steadying breath, letting his eyes run down her body before he dragged them back up to her face.

“Wrong time, wrong place,” he said huskily.

She nodded. “Yes. I was thinking that, too.”

So she was already reading his mind. This was one dangerous woman. It was a good thing that the timing was wrong. She could have tied him up like a trussed turkey.

His gaze fell to her flat belly and it took all his willpower not to think what sprang to his mind. He’d never wanted a child. Before.

“I’ll be late for the workshop. And you’ll be late for work. Take care of yourself,” he said.

She smiled gently. “You, too. Thank you, Harden.”

His broad shoulders rose and fell. “I’d have done the same for anyone,” he said, almost defensively.

“I know that, too. So long.”

He opened the door this time and went through it, without haste but without lingering. When he was back in the car, he forced himself to ignore the way it wounded him to leave her there alone with her painful memories.

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