Page 27 of The Cowboy Takes a Nanny
Questions that needed to be answered, and to answer, one must be able to think. As if an invisible switch had been flicked, her brain finally kicked back in to gear.
What was she doing?
What were they doing?
No! This couldn’t happen. She’d instigated it! Surely the fires of hell could not burn with more intensity than the fire suddenly raging through her. Not the lascivious heat of physical passion; but the heavy burn of mortification. Barely able to draw breath, Ella stepped away, allowed her arms to fall heavily to her sides as she dragged in life-preserving oxygen. She could not face him. “Leo, I’m sorry … I should never …”
“Ella—”
“No, I need to go. Have a shower. Be r-ready for when the children wake.”
The only victory she could claim was that she walked away, back straight, head held high—and didn’t once look back. She’d congratulate herself for that miraculous feat later.
Much, much later when she could face herself in a mirror.
*
For long moments Leo just sat there, willing his body to calm. He lost the argument more than once when both head and body insisted on reliving those mad moments. The way her slender body fitted into his when he’d wrapped himself around her. Her lips: so soft, yet so willing to match his every challenge. The way he’d instantly hardened—all it had taken was her touch to light a fire that raged through him so fast it had literally stolen his breath.
One all-too-brief kiss.
And it had lived up to every fantasy; been everything and more. But it wasn’t enough.
He pushed away the plate, shoved it with such force it almost slid right across to fall off the far side of the counter.
Damn it to hell. This was the very thing he’d feared would happen. And damn it more to hell: He had no idea what to do about it.
He’d learned one thing from his mother and sister, and that was not to let things dwell; to talk about them. Talking with Ella had been one of the unexpected joys of having her in the house with him, but right then, it was the last thing he wanted to do with Ella Staunton Hawes. But it had to be done.
He cleared away the kitchen mess, giving them both a moment before he made his way upstairs.
He caught her tiptoeing out of Mia’s room. Offering a tight smile, she made to pass him, but he snagged her arm, dropping it the minute she looked pointedly at his hand and then arched an eyebrow as her eyes lifted to him. “Ella, please—I think we should talk.”
“Nothing to talk about Leo,” she said in the prim English accent. “We’re both exhausted after a very emotional and physically draining time. We had a moment of madness. And I suggest we put it behind us and pretend it never happened.”
He’d probably been going to say something similar, but it irked him that she got in first and could sound so rational. How was she so in control when his own body was clamoring for even just a smile from her? “Yeah, well, you know I’ve had a few moments of madness in my lifetime, but none of them ever felt like that.”
What was he doing? He intended to put this behind them, not encourage it!
“Well, congratulations,” she returned. “I fear I don’t have all that experience to fall back on, so my ability to compare is rather lacking.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to cheapen our experience, Ella. Just the opposite, but I guess we do need to talk about how we move forward. It’s obvious there’s an attraction there between us, that you and I—”
“Is there, Leo? That’s quite a presumption.”
She may have looked in control—her lovely hazel eyes, with their shards of blue, brown, and green didn’t waver as she stared him down. And she sounded coolly in control, but the pink suddenly staining her cheeks told a different story. “You’re saying you’re not attracted to me, Ella?” His mouth curved upward, and he moved ever so slowly closer to her. “Is that a challenge? Because you know I could test that out right now … I could reach out and do this.” And he ran a single finger down her cheek. “Or this—”
As though coming out of a daze she batted his hand away. But it was the glisten of building tears in her eyes that snapped him back to reality. Freaking hell. What was he doing! Her words, broken and raspy, added the final layer of cold water. “Leo, stop. D-do you even know what you’re doing? Are you thinking about this? Really thinking?”
Of course he wasn’t. Groaning, he scraped a hand through his hair, and started to turn away. Spun back. “You’re right. I’m not thinking. I’m sorry, I …” What could he say? The words were a jumble in his lust-addled brain, and trying to make sense of them was suddenly beyond him. “I’m really sorry, Ella. I’ve got no excuse … Get your shower. The kids will be awake before we know it.”
He didn’t wait to see her response, didn’t deserve another of her passes, just strode the length of the corridor to his room. And it felt like the longest walk of his life.
*
After her shower, Ella lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling. The warm water sluicing her body, streaming through her hair, hadn’t washed away the memory of Leo’s face as he’d challenged her to admit her attraction to him. His eyes seeing beyond the cool façade she tried so hard to maintain.
Had he expected she’d just fall at his feet? Admit she was a blithering mess every time he was within touching distance? Even when he wasn’t? And if she had, it didn’t mean they could hurtle into a torrid affair.
