Page 52 of Best Laid Plans

He wantedher.

Tonight.

She was simply dressed in jeans and a tomboyish grey T-shirt. No pretty floral dress. No sexy high heels.

It didn’t matter. She was Lucy. And he wanted her.

Too much.

Her disappointment was clear as she stepped away from him and nervously fingered the amethyst, feeling the smoothfacets beneath her fingertips. Her blue eyes were cloudy. Understandably perplexed. ‘Will, there’s something wrong, isn’t there?’

‘No,’ he muttered and he forced his thoughts to focus on restraint.

‘You don’t want to...’ she began, but she couldn’t finish the sentence.

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Lucy.’

Cringe. Had he really said that? The only way he could hurt Lucy was by walking away and denying her the chance to become a mother.

Or perhaps that was the only way he could save himself from eternal damnation? Why the hell hadn’t they stuck to the IVF option?

His throat worked.

Lucy looked away. They were still standing in her hallway, for heaven’s sake.

‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked.

‘A drink?’ he repeated like a fool.

‘To – er – relax.’

He shook his head. He would need a whole bottle of alcohol to douse the fire inside him.

Lucy looked as if she wanted to weep and he knew that, at any minute now, she would thank him for the gift and send him home. It was exactly what he deserved.

She dropped her gaze to the empty box in her hands. ‘I thought a drink might help with... um... getting in the mood.’

With a choked sound that was halfway between a groan and a sick laugh, Will fought back the urge to haul her against his hard, aroused body. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my mood, Lucy.’

‘Right,’ she whispered hoarsely, but she looked upset, a little shocked. And maybe just a tad angry. Her chin lifted and her unsmiling eyes confronted him.

His heart slammed inside his chest. He couldn’t believe he’d been so cool about this last time. What a poor naïve fool he’d been. Back then he hadn’t known what it was like to take Lucy in his arms. He’d forgotten how dangerous it could be to get close to her, to know that the slim curves pressed so deliciously against him were Lucy’s.

Until then, he’d assumed that their kiss on the verandah all those years ago had been an aberration.

Now, Will knew better.

Now, he knew that kissing Lucy, making love to Lucy could all too easily become a dangerous addiction.

With a soft sigh, she set the box and purple ribbon on the hallstand, and when she looked at him again, she placed her hands on her hips and her eyes were an unsettling blue challenge. ‘What do you want to do then?’

‘Kiss you.’

The answer jumped from Will’s lips before he could gather his wits. He saw the flare of confusion in Lucy’s eyes, the soft surprised O of her mouth. But his hands were already reaching out for her and he kissed her as if this were his last minute on earth.

He kissed her as if at any moment he might lose her.

For ever.

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