Those thoughts, and his own traitorous body, had him tugging her closer. Ignoring her quick intake of breath, he leaned down.
“Tell me, Maddie,” he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of her ear. She shivered. Triumph, some sense that he wasn’t the only one lost in the past, wrapped up in memories and regrets, washed over him. Encouraged him to step even closer so that his thigh touched her hip, the round edge of her screwdriver digging into his leg. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so pissed at me?”
She faced him slowly, her gaze dropping to his mouth for one long, painful moment before she raised her eyes. “Not even a little.”
CHAPTER THREE
DON’T YOU EVER get tired of being so pissed at me?
Neil’s question echoed in Maddie’s head. She didn’t struggle, didn’t try to break free of his hold, though it felt as if his fingers were burning her skin, scarring her with his touch.
Branding her.
Damn it. As much as it grated to admit, he rattled her with his intense blue eyes and grim expression. God, the man was a millionaire several times over, was at the top of his sport and he still looked as if it wasn’t enough. As if there was something inside that made it impossible for him to ever be truly happy.
Not her problem, she assured herself, her chest tight, as if she wasn’t getting enough air. She’d done her time trying to coax smiles from him, the occasional laugh. He’d always been so serious. So focused on his goals. When she’d been a girl, she’d found that intensity appealing and oh, so attractive. And, yes, she could admit now, challenging.
She’d wanted to be the one to get through to him, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who carried his resentment on his sleeve, who pushed himself to be better than anyone else.
Now she only wanted him to give her some space so she could breathe again.
His fingers tightened before he unwrapped them from her arm. But he didn’t move and her pride wouldn’t let her be the one to put distance between them. Not when he was watching her so intently, as if trying to figure out if she spoke the truth. As if surprised he couldn’t tell.
But then, he’d never had to dig too deeply, had he? She’d always been more than eager to give him everything. Her thoughts and feelings. Her heart.
“Good to know where we stand,” he finally said, his voice a low, sexy rumble.
“You ever want to know where you stand with me, all you have to do is ask.” She linked her hands together to stop from rubbing her fingertips over the spot he’d held. “Direct, remember?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, still not backing up an inch, the bastard. “Right.”
Succinct as always. But really, what was there to say after that? She didn’t like him, didn’t forgive him. Wasn’t sure she ever could.
Even if he asked her to.
Half-afraid they’d be there hours from now, staring each other down, neither one giving an inch, she stepped back. Then took another step. “You’ll excuse me for not walking you to the door? You’ve always been very good at finding a way out on your own.”
It was another cheap shot. One she regretted as soon as the words left her mouth. Biting her lower lip so she wouldn’t take the words back, she crossed to the wall, stared at it blindly.
“I always admired that about you,” he said quietly. “How open you were. How honest.”
She shut her eyes against a pinch of guilt. God, rub salt in the wound, why didn’t he? And where did he get off saying that anyway? He admired her? Of course he did. Didn’t most people admire traits in others they themselves lacked? Lord knew Neil was nothing if not closed off and guarded.
She’d long ago stopped thinking that brooding, emotionally bereft men with tragic pasts and a dangerous edge were attractive.
She shot a quick look over her shoulder at him. Yep. She’d stopped thinking that. Definitely.
Hey, even someone direct and honest could lie to themselves once in a while.
The front door slammed and a moment later, Elijah ran into the room. She wasn’t sure the kid even knew how to walk.
And his return meant the delay of Neil’s departure. Crap.
“I told her, Aunt Maddie,” Elijah said, holding the tape measure up like a trophy. “I told Mom I grew and