Page 36 of The Pretender

“I want to believe you’re trying to win me over with a sob story, because...” She gave up the fight with a groan. “But you’re not, are you?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“I’m not even sure what to say.” Her family tree was bathed in death. She mourned losing her parents’ trust but she never believed she’d lost their love. The media played up the estrangement but that was more fiction than fact, or it was after those first few lonely years.

She’d lost so much, so many people. But none of them had chosen something as stupid as stealing over her. They died. They were taken, literally ripped away from her.

“My mom, what she did, the lies and how it destroyed my dad, it all plays a part in who I am today... in the choices I’ve made,” Harris said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Have you been to a therapist?” She didn’t even know if the question fit in with this conversation, but she felt the need to ask it.

“I don’t really need one to figure out why I am the way I am.” He snorted. “The cause and effect is pretty clear.”

A terrible thought hit her. “Please tell me you don’t rob banks.”

He shifted in his seat until their shoulders touched. His hand slipped over hers, his fingers entwined with hers. “I’ve never robbed a bank.”

She settled against him, letting the warmth of his body wrap around hers. “I’ve seen a therapist on and off for years just to figure out how to get up in the morning.”

“Was it like that before your parents and your sister?”

She wanted to lie. She prided herself on keeping it together. Through the accusations and all the ugly comments hurled at her, she’d hung on to that. She soldiered through. Admitting that at some point it hadn’t been that easy really meant admitting she’d once allowed herself to be vulnerable. She had vowed never to do that again.

But blame the caress of his thumb over the back of her hand or the fire or the intoxicating crackle and smell of burning wood, her defenses refused to rise. Before she could think about it, the words tumbled out. “I always suffered from not-good-enough issues. Weirdly enough, losing my parents changed that. It was as if something shifted inside me and what used to matter didn’t anymore. I no longer worried about failing because I was too busy being sick about never seeing them again.”

“Makes sense.”

“I just want to preserve their memories, you know?” She ached to make them proud of her.

“We all have secrets, Gabby. We all have reasons to grab a shovel and dig in the yard.” His gaze searched her face as he talked. “That doesn’t make you guilty of killing your sister, and I get that. I know the difference between the secrets we hide out of self-preservation and the sins we deserve to shoulder.”

The man knew the right thing to say. The soft words, the understanding, it broke through. She was thrown back into the same state from last night. She needed to be touched and held. Not by just anyone, but byhim. “Any chance I can lure you back to the guesthouse?”

“So long as you understand I’m a bad bet.” There was no amusement in his voice. “Sex, I get. Heat, attraction, bodies—all good. But if you’re looking to believe in someone, I’m not your guy.”

He was actually warning her off. It would have been cute if she didn’t want this so much.

“Can I trust you not to say something annoying while I get your clothes off?” she asked.

He shot her that sexy smile that melted her resistance and more than a few brain cells. “I think I can control my impulses for that long.”

“That’s good enough for now.”

Chapter 10

Harris blocked out every word, every doubt. The voice at the back of his head shouted for him to stop. She deserved better. She needed to hear the truth. All true, but he didn’t exactly lie to her.Not exactly. She knew he was holding back... they both were.

His emotions volleyed back and forth as they made the slow walk to the guesthouse. The stay-away-from-her side won by a mile but he couldn’t make himself break away. He’d spent so much of his time knowing her—most of which she didn’t know he existed—floundering in a quicksand of guilt. Before they exchanged one look he’d already failed her.

Every argument and bit of common sense told him to step back. To put a wall between them. But the minute he thought about the solution, he abandoned it. His need for her veered into the wild and uncontrollable. Maybe if they had this one time he could find some sort of equilibrium. Either that or the guilt would plunge him under once and for all.

He had no idea how they made it across the lawn without tripping. The walk started out fine. Hurried, but fine. No touching. Then the back of his hand brushed against hers and he practically climbed on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her. His hands roamed all over her. By the time they got to the guesthouse they were locked in a blinding kiss.

He pressed her back against the door, held her there with a hand on either side of her head. Need pounded inside him and he poured it into the kiss. No holding back. The air between them thrummed with electricity. And when her fingers went to the button on the top of his jeans he almost lost it.

“Inside.” The pent-up feelings for her had him barking out the order.

Her mouth went to his neck as she reached behind her and turned the knob. The door opened and they almost fell through the opening, but he caught her just in time. He held her, walking her backward. They knocked against a table and thumped into the wall. A lamp tipped and rocked on its base but thanks to some miracle didn’t fall over.

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