But if Nash understood anything from the moment those shapely legs dipped out of that dinosaur of a car, it was that Hayley Albright was much more to him than an old lover or a piece of his past. She was part of him.
More than just his desire for her worked through him, and beyond the years of loneliness was the crushing feeling that she distrusted him. It was justified, yet it weighed heavy on his soul. He'd earned a reputation of trust, of a man worthy of breeding million-dollar Thoroughbreds, and yet when he wanted that honor from her, she couldn't give it. She might not say the words, but he'd seen it her eyes.
His hand slid up to cup the back of her head, to tip it until she met his gaze. The instant their gazes locked everything changed. The air burned, bodies clung more tightly. Blood moved more slowly through his veins and his muscles locked with a sweet heat that left him in a breathless state of hardness.
She felt it, shifting slightly against him.
Nash thought he'd come apart right there. It was too soon to ask for a second chance. But he had to taste her. He lowered his head.
"Oh, Nash," she said in a trembling sigh.
His name on the breathy rush undid him. He swooped down and was suddenly powerfully, deeply in her mouth, his tongue plundering, taking possession. He didn't try to hide his need. He didn't need to. She drew it from him the way a river breaks against a dam, letting her desire rush over him, envelope him. She clawed at his shoulders, trying to get closer, and he clutched her, dropping to the nearby stool, pulling her between his thighs.
A whimper escaped her throat. He drank in that, too.
With one hand he cupped her bottom, pushing her into him. She flexed in a ribbon of desire, her breathing rushed, her hands in his hair as she tipped his head to take more of him and match it with the fire of memory. But it was hotter, stronger, more potent than she thought possible, and Hayley knew she was in real danger. Then when his hands drove up her back, under her shirt and she let him, the burn of his touch spiraled her need out of control. She wanted to be naked with him, feel his incredible mouth on her body, feel his hardness push insistently into her as his tongue pushed into her mouth now.
It had been way too long.
The sound of the front door opening broke into their privacy.
Nash groaned in frustration and pulled back slowly, kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheek.
Hayley gasped for breath, blinking, the haze slow to lift. She met his gaze and the fire smoldered, begging to be flamed again. The kiss had opened a door she wanted locked. And yet, another part of her longed to cross the threshold and throw away the key.
She staggered back. No, she couldn't do this. It was just the emotions of the night before lingering.
Nash struggled for control. His groin was unbearably thick and heavy. For her. He hadn't felt like this in years, not this lack of control, and if the men weren't coming into the house, he would have made love to her right there on the floor. He lifted his gaze to her and frowned at the look in her eyes.
His heart rolled in his chest.
Distrust, shame, laced with the sting of old hurt.
"I can't do this again," she whispered. "I won't."
His features darkened. "Hayley, things are different now." He could hear the footsteps of his men coming closer.
Her gaze narrowed.
"You can't lie to yourself and say that wasn't something," he said.
Her mouth curved bitterly. "Oh, it was something all right." Stronger, hotter, wilder than before, she thought. "But we can't start up. I'm leaving."
He wasn't going to discuss her leaving. That was less than two weeks away. "You don't trust me not to hurt you again."
She tipped her chin and gave him a cool look. "That doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters!" When she simply stared, he said, "By God, you are a stubborn woman. And we will talk about this later." The last came like a warning.
"There is nothing to discuss, Nash. I don't have a choice this time. People are depending on me."
He didn't say anything, unnerving her more as he stood. He groaned, his body too tight to walk.
A very unladylike snicker escaped her, and when he shot her a dark look, an instance of mutual heat pulsed between them. Seth strolled into the kitchen and stopped short, glancing between the two. Nash ignored him, still standing only a hand's width from her. He stared, an almost triumphant smile crossing his lips when he heard her breath hitch.
His gaze lingered, caressed and stroked her as intimately as his touch, and Hayley felt her insides twist and shudder.
"Get to cooking, woman," he growled softly. "We're burning daylight."
Hayley nodded. At least she thought she did. His stare was too intense to feel much past the delicious numbing of his kiss and the sensation of simply being looked at as if he could peel away her skin and see beneath. But he had seen beneath. And his look said he remembered every inch of her, every cry of passion, every push into her body and its resounding friction. It was a persuasive look, and she gloried in feeling so desired, wanting him in ways she had no business thinking about. He was devastating to her senses, his scent mixing with hers. And to top it off, his eyes were somber, glittering with something she hadn't seen in a man's eyes for a very long time—hunger. She had to get control of herself before she leaped on him, demanding he crush her in his arms again and make love to her mouth as he just had. For where Nash was concerned, she was the vulnerable one.