attention, and Graham turned, presenting her his profile.
Shit.
“Tess?” His voice was soft as the night spread before them.
No sense in playing statue anymore. She stepped forward. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re wearing gold and it catches in the moonlight,” he said, moving so close she caught the scent of his cologne. The fragrance wound itself around her just like this man who had enraptured her that night long ago.
“I knew I should have worn the black dress my mother bought me on sale last spring. It was practically made for subterfuge,” she cracked dryly. Wasn’t like she could hop over the railing and disappear into the depths of the lake.
“You look spectacular in the one you’re wearing,” he said, a smile flickering at his delicious mouth.
Oh, damn it all. Why was his mouth so delicious?
“You’re just in suck-up mode and can’t turn it off. I saw you with Miles. You both looked very chummy… Makes me wonder what you’re working up for him. Should have kept my big, fat mouth shut.”
“Yeah, but I like your mouth open,” he said, his eyes deepening. This man’s words were silk against her skin, making her yield.
She didn’t want this. Couldn’t handle moonlight and seduction… not when so much was at stake. “Do you? Well, then you won’t mind when I open it and tell you you’re grasping at straws with Miles. He prefers quality above all else. My sketches give him that. Paired with Monique’s offer, he can’t resist. So save your pandering.”
“Tess, I’m just doing my job.”
“Which should have been my job,” she muttered and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was moot. Indulgent. A freaking dead horse. Her inner toddler may shout “It’s not fair!” but the reality was life wasn’t fair.
Suck it up, Tess, and stop dragging that hurt out into the light.
“Touché,” he said, staring out at the boats anchored in the marina, bobbing in the gentle waves. He probably wondered how many times he’d have to hear about something that wasn’t his fault. “I wish things were different for you, Tess. I wish I could make it better.”
Something pinged inside her and made her aware of her constant harping on being usurped. “I have to move past what happened. I have to let it go.”
He didn’t say anything. Just stared out into the inky darkness as if he could find the answers for her there. After a minute or so, he turned. “About what Monique said. You know that’s not true. That night wasn’t—”
“I know. That night belongs to us. No one else. It’s our memory, Graham, and I know you didn’t know I was Frank Ullo’s daughter.”
“Monique likes to paint me as the bad guy.”
Tess gulped back a laugh. “You are the bad guy.”
He moved closer still. “Is that what you really think?”
She didn’t answer. He knew she didn’t think he was bad. He knew she wanted him… maybe even knew she admired the way he loved Emily, the way he stood up for Ullo.
Graham cupped her chin, raising her face to his. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face, making his eyes soft and mystical. “I’m the bad guy? I used you?”
Still she said nothing.
“Tess?”
Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. “No.”
“No?”
She opened her eyes. “You’re not a bad guy, Graham.”
He lifted another hand and brushed back a tendril of her hair. “I want to be your good guy. I want things you can’t imagine.”
“I know you do,” she whispered, longing rising within her. How did he always manage to do this? “I thought you were the right guy that night, but everything went so wrong. How could it have gone so wrong, Graham?”
Her words brought him to her. It was as if he could see she hadn’t fully closed the door to him. She wanted him. She couldn’t keep him out.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, Graham maneuvered them both even farther into the shadows. The touch of his body brushing against hers ignited a torrent of desire. She couldn’t resist him. She didn’t even want to stop him.
Maybe just a little taste.
Couldn’t hurt to have one secret moment on the balcony, maybe then she could let him go. Maybe one kiss would be enough, maybe it would be average and not at all as special as she remembered.
She lifted her face to him… and then his mouth was on hers, hungry, almost punishing.
But she didn’t care. She welcomed the nip of his teeth, the tightness of his grip, the tug of her