barely be called a kiss, she knew that. Still, arousal sparked at the chaste press of his mouth, shimmering through her body until it landed between her legs. Fuck.
Nate pulled back, looking at her with a rueful expression. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said.
She should be happy at this sign that he was beginning to see sense, but all she felt was that delicious zing of need, along with a disturbing disappointment at his words.
Apparently, her face conveyed that disappointment without authorisation, because he smiled—oh, she wished he wouldn’t smile—and murmured, “You disagree?”
“I don’t,” she said. “I think you’re right.”
Nate sighed. “This was a lot easier before I knew you. Now I can tell when you’re lying.”
She decided to ignore the more concerning part of that statement; nobody knew when Hannah was lying. “This?”
“This. Pretending I didn’t want to touch you. Not cornering you in the kitchen like some kind of pervert. Resisting the urge to kiss you.”
“You haven’t kissed me.”
“Yet.” But then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. No. I’m not going to kiss you. I’m not going to touch you.”
“Because you don’t… like me.” That was what she’d thought, but it was getting harder and harder to believe it.
Especially when Nate opened his eyes with a frown and asked, “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I like you.”
“Right.” She nodded calmly, as if she’d been aware of this all along. Which, really, she had—but it just seemed so impossible. When did anyone ever like her and want her all at the same time? Never, that’s when.
Now, actually. Someone likes you and wants you now.
“The problem,” Nate said slowly, as if making sure she understood, “is that you work for me.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, yes. I knew that.” I just somehow didn’t consider it at all, because I was far too preoccupied with pre-teen anxiety about who does and does not like me. Wonderful.
Nate sighed, his expression suddenly, achingly sad. “This has ruined everything, hasn’t it?”
To Hannah’s surprise, something close to panic flared inside her. “What? No. I mean—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything at all, I just—”
“Not you. It’s not you.” He laughed, the tension in his shoulders fading slightly. “You can’t help yourself. You’re ovulating.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Are you ever going to forget I said that?”
“Not in a thousand years.” His gaze dropped, for one heavy moment, to her lips, and Hannah’s chest tightened. He lowered his head, but their mouths didn’t meet. Instead, she felt his breath against her jaw, her ear, her throat. It felt like he was dragging his lips or his tongue, or even his hands, over that sensitive skin—but he wasn’t. He didn’t touch her. Not once.
Hannah felt slightly faint. If he ever did touch her she might just die. A thick, thrumming heat formed in her belly and moved lower, lower, lower, settling between her thighs. She felt like an ocean struck by lightning. She felt like a woman who’d never worried. She felt like he’d better hurry up and kiss her before she expired in anticipation.
“You weren’t supposed to know,” he said, and for a moment she imagined she felt the brush of his lips against her throat. But that was just a fantasy. “I didn’t want to put you in this position. I’m sorry.”
“Know what?” Why did she sound so breathless? If she’d had room for an emotion other than need, she might’ve been embarrassed.
“How much I want you.”
“Oh. Well. I mean, I already thought…”
He pulled back with a slow smile. “You thought what?”
“Um… I thought you might, perhaps, possibly, be slightly attracted to me—”
“You knew?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, Nate, I am thirty years old, and sometimes people are interested in me—”
“Only sometimes?”
She gave him a warning glare. “And when they are, they tend to display certain signs, and I have become adept at recognising these signs—”
“You knew.” He laughed. “Oh, Hannah. I don’t know why I thought I could hide anything from you. No-one could hide anything from you.”
You’d be surprised. “I assumed you’d get over it,” she said. “Which you will, once you get to know me.”
Nate gave her an odd look. It was the kind of look she imagined he’d give the Queen, if the Queen suddenly ripped off her clothes and started pole dancing. “Hannah. I do know you. Knowing you is one of the reasons why I fantasise about kissing you senseless.”
“You… fantasise…” She shook her head and decided not to focus on the kissing