She never took the easy way out. She wasn't going to start now.
“I'm worried about you.”
Still not turning to face her, he said, “You need to go.”
Good one. He had to know she wasn't going anywhere.
Scanning the room for the seat with the best ocean view, she moved to it and sat down, kicking her legs up onto the coffee table. “I've been needing a vacation. I think I'll take it here.”
Now he had no choice but to look at her. “I don't have time for your games, Janica.”
“Actually, from what I hear, you've got nothing but time. Four weeks of time.”
In a flash, he was up on his feet and coming after her. He grabbed her shoulders and wrenched her up from her seat.
“You're leaving. Right now.”
But she wasn't afraid of him. Even if, judging by his furious expression and the extremely hard grip he had on her, she should be.
“Not until you tell me what's going on. Not until you tell me why you showed up at my place last night.”
His answer came fast, furious. “I wanted to fuck you.”
She flinched and saw a flash of regret in his eyes. But it was gone as fast as it had come.
What had happened to him? To the Luke she knew?
And why couldn't she just let him go back to living his life alone, completely separate from her?
But she already knew the answer to that.
Love.
“And now I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
There was such hardness to his words, a lifelessness beneath them that broke her heart. Not because he was hurting her with his callousness after the night they'd spent together – even though she had to admit there was a little hurt bubbling up inside of her – but because it was clear just how much he was hurting.
Last night she'd looked into his eyes, had run her fingers across the harsh lines of his face, and knew how much he needed her. But today, things were even worse.
What had happened?
Janica knew she'd never been good with this emotion stuff. All her life, she'd been physical, active.
How could she reach him?
All she knew was that she couldn't go. She couldn't leave him alone. Not like this.
Making a show of scanning the cabin, she said, “It looks to me like you've got plenty of space here. Besides, you wouldn't turn out family, would you?”
“Don't go there, Janica,” he warned her in a low, rough voice.
“Where else should I go, Luke? Would you rather I told you how much I liked it when you had your mouth on my—”
Half expecting him to bodily throw her off the porch at this point, she was surprised when he cut her off with a kiss, a hard connection of lips and tongues and teeth. He tasted like tequila and his own particular brand of heat.
How would she ever get her fill of him?
A sharp pang squeezed her heart. She never would.