Page 29 of The Right to Remain Mine

If a good shagging was all she wanted from him, then he would give her one she wouldn't soon forget.

Nine

Willow should've expected it. But the sight of Camille breezing into her office hardly ten minutes after she herself entered still managed to surprise her.

"Okay. Spill it," Camille demanded, nosing her huge stomach past a filing cabinet and falling heavily into the chair across from Willow's.

Being a junior partner at her firm, Goode and Wilson, Willow kept her own office, but it had no window and measured less than half the size of any other lawyer's office in the company.

She'd had to do some serious feng shui to organize her desk, files, and law books to fit into the cramped space. Now, she was pleased to note, the place looked roomy and comfortable despite a couple narrow pathways.

Her cousin, however, didn't seem to feel the calming effect the placement of the shelves and desk were supposed to bestow upon her. After plopping down across from Willow, Camille sent her an anxious look.

"Why, good morning, dear heart," Willow greeted, pushing her lap top to the side, so she could fold her hands and set them calmly on the desk to give Camille her undivided attention. "I trust Dylan safely saw your snack home last night."

"He did," Camille answered. "And he also delivered some very distressing news about the company you were keeping."

"Did he?" Clearing her throat discreetly, Willow wasn't quite able to meet Camille's probing stare. She busied herself by glancing at her laptop and clicking on a link.

Inside, she groaned, wishing her cousin would go away and leave the big inquisition for another day. She didn't want to talk about what had happened last night. She still felt too raw, and not just physically. Raith Malloy demanded things from a woman that left her reeling. She felt dazed, confused, hungry for more. And that totally contradicted the composed, unruffled persona she was determined to present to the world. Being a judge's daughter, she had to prove she'd gotten where she was by her own steam, had to prove herself worthy. She had to act as if nothing affected her. Letting some hot guy throw her off her game could not be permitted.

Though, oh God, she couldn't stop thinking about him. His hands, his mouth, his cocky little smile, the sweet way he held her in his sleep, making her heart flutter off into—

"You should've heard Dylan going on last night about that man who attacked him in your kitchen," Camille accused.

Scowling, Willow cleared her throat. "Well, in my company's defense, he thought Dylan was an intruder." She had no idea why she defended Malloy. He had been rougher on Dylan than necessary. But Malloy wasn't a soft individual. That was just one of the things she loved about him. He didn't pansy around and—

Wait, what had she just thought? That hadn't been the L-word tumbling around in her head, had it?

"But that's not all Dylan had to say," her cousin continued.

Willow fingers cramped as they stabbed at a few more computer keys, yet she managed to give Camille an unconcerned smile. "Yes, I did sense some underlying tension between him and Malloy."

"Malloy?" Camille squawked in horror. "You're letting this guy stay the night, and you call him Malloy?"

Willow frowned. "Why not? That's his name."

"Lord have mercy," her best friend muttered as she ran her hands through her thick blonde hair. "You fell into bed with him and you don't even use his first name?"

Willow swallowed. Since the situation already upset her cousin enough, she didn't think it would be in good taste to announce she hadn't even known Malloy's first name until last night. But there's no way she could refer to him as Raith. Raith. Just thinking the word gave her goose bumps. Her internal organs shuddered with longing.

Raith with the talented mouth, hot hands and body that wouldn't quit.

No, she couldn't call him Raith. Calling him by his given name would feel way too personal. And there's no way she could explain that to her cousin. Camille would never understand. She'd say something along the lines about sex being a very personal experience; of course it should feel personal.

But there had been something more to Raith Malloy. He had managed to invade Willow, steal right into the deepest crevices of her being and touch something that was way too private. And whatever it was, it scared the crap out of her.

God, she just wanted Camille to go away. She was befuddled enough as it was. Why was her cousin so determined to make it worse? She still couldn't believe her own behavior. It didn't seem to matter how irritated she became with him, as soon as he touched her, all she wanted was more. But she kind of liked his butthead ways. His quick wit and ability to set her teeth on edge without fail was a little thrilling; it gave her a challenge, got her blood pumping and her mind whirling. A small, deeply disturbed part of her actually looked forward to her next argument with him.

But this morning told her that probably wasn't going to be happening any time soon. She woke up to him standing next to her bed, dressing. When she'd said his name, he glanced over his shoulder to look at her with blank, expressionless eyes, like some kind of stranger.

"I should go," he said and turned away, tugging on his shirt.

The instant rejection hurt. She yanked the sheets up around her, securing them over her naked, used body, hiding her pain.

He swung his head around and pinned her with an accusing look that seemed to say, See, you don't want me here. I should definitely go.

She wanted to snarl, and spit, and scratch. And cry. How dare he act as if this was her idea? He'd made the first move to leave.

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