Page 72 of Misadventures With My Fake Fiancé

I looked up into his eyes, so blue, so intense, for a mere moment before he lowered his mouth to mine. He kissed me, coaxing my mouth open without much effort, his tongue slipping in. The heat, the zing that came from the contact wasn't just from four days apart. It would always be like this. Hot, steamy, needy. My body would always crave his. Need him. I gave a soft little moan.

But he was leaving. My body might crave him, but my mind was smarter. I had to protect myself from more hurt; regardless of the pleasure just his lips could bring me.

I pushed at his hard chest. He didn't move. He didn't even stop kissing me.

Turning my head away, his lips ran over my jaw to my ear, to that sweet spot right behind it. “Mike,” I gasped. My breath wasragged, my heartbeat like a hummingbird. “Stop. Please, stop,” I practically begged.

He pulled back, must have seen the unshed tears in my eyes and stepped away. He ran his hand through his hair, paced through my small living room.

“Jesus, Vi. Don't cry. I can't handle it.”

How dare he! “You can't handle it? You? This isn't all about you. You can't just walk away for days, head off to start a new life and then come waltzing back in and kiss me. I won't be here waiting for you.”

He turned back to me, his face bleak. “When I got your call and you told me that ridiculous thing about Veronica and a dress, I thought I was going to lose it. You were in trouble and I wasn't there for you. Do you know how many traffic laws I broke to get to you?”

I shook my head.

“When I saw you there, in one piece, looking so perfect, everything I ever thought was validated. I knew. I don't give a shit about New York. I turned them down. I was going to call, but I wanted to tell you in person.”

What? He turned down New York? My heart did a little flip.

“Why, Mike? Because you were scared I was in danger? Just like the bee sting?”

“No.” He came over to me, took my hands in his big ones. They felt so warm, so comforting, but it was hard to hope. “You were right. I couldn't save my friend at camp. No one could. I have to let it go, stop feeling guilty about being alive. I haven't been able to do that. I just push myself more and more to make up for what he never would have. It's time I started living for me. I pushed you away once.” He lifted my chin to meet his gaze, but I wouldn't—couldn't—look at him. He waited patiently until I had no choice and met his gaze. “I won't do it again. I love you, babe.”

Happiness flooded through me at his words. Tears returned to my eyes, but this time happy ones. “I love you, too, Ox.”

“Oz. I like Oz much better.”

When he lowered his head this time, I didn't push him away. In fact, I grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him in. Like I never wanted to let go.

Eventually, we came up for air and he tugged me to the couch. He sat down, tossed a throw pillow out of the way, and pulled me onto his lap so I straddled him.

He was so big, so strong. So perfect. His thighs were warm and solid beneath me. His hands moved over my hips holding me just where he wanted me.

I fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “So you're staying in Bozeman?”

He nodded, brushed hair back from my face, his palm resting at my nape. “I'm settling in here. It feels good.Youfeel good. Someday you'll have my ring on your finger.”

I glanced at him in surprise. Ring? “You mean...”

“I'm a very possessive man, babe. You're mine.”

I smiled, felt my cheeks heat. “When it's time, I want the ring from Alaska.”

He tilted his head back as if to get a better angle to see me. “That hideous thing?”

I nodded. “It's hideously perfect. I hated it, but now I love it. I love you.”

He tugged on my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. That went on. And on.

“But, babe, there's more to talk about than just me,” he murmured when I lifted my head. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as if tasting me still. “I read your book.”

The kiss had softened me, all but weakened the walls around my heart. I closed my eyes to block him out, to block outhis words. I just wanted to keep on kissing, to forget about everything else.

“Vi,” he said gently.

I ignored him, tried to ignore the feelings of shame and embarrassment that flared up like heartburn. I felt my cheeks heat.

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