his throat, Angelina immediately crashed back into the real world.
She broke off the kiss and stumbled away from him, hating the fact that he was too darn potent for her to think rationally. “Stop trying to confuse me. Tell me what’s going on right now,” she insisted, congratulating herself on her fairly poised delivery, considering that she felt as put together as an unmade puzzle.
“I don’t know. I have no idea why you’re here. All I know is that I’ve been calling you every hour for two straight days. You have no idea how frustrating it is when all I get is your voice mail. But now you’re here, standing right in front of me.”
Angelina was stunned by his soliloquy. “You’ve been trying to contact me for two days?”
“Maybe I should have left a message, but I wanted to explain things in person.”
He wanted to explain things. It was too close to what Bryce had said to her at the end of the summer. Will had just kissed her like he was dying of thirst and she was water ... but when was she going to learn that passionate kisses didn’t mean anything to men like them?
Trying for mature, hoping for calm, Angelina managed, “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”
“I don’t?”
She pasted a cheerful smile on her face. “I understand perfectly.”
“You do?”
“Of course.”
“But—”
Angelina cut him off before he could say anything that would hurt her more. She faked a yawn.
“If I’m going to have a good consultation with your mother tomorrow morning, I’d better get some rest.”
“My mother called you?”
Angelina stared at him in disbelief.
CHAPTER NINE
Judging by the closed, wounded look on Angelina’s face, he knew she wouldn’t believe him if he told her the truth. Frankly, he was having a hard time believing what his mother had done. She was worse than any of the other scheming mothers he’d encountered during the past twenty-four hours.
Was it wrong to be so pleased by her meddling?
“I hate to tell you this, but there’s only one spare bedroom.”
A look of utter disbelief and exhaustion settled over Angelina’s face.
Will cleared his throat and jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wanted to reach out for Angelina to comfort her, but something told him his touch wouldn’t be welcome. Not when she was so clearly upset with both him and his mother.
“I’m going to grab my stuff right now and clear out so you can have it.”
He groaned inwardly, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to get any sleep on the couch in the living room, with Angelina just a wall away. As it was, he was fighting the urge to pull her back into his arms.
How could it be that in weeks he had gone from being perfectly sane and in charge of his life to losing control over everything?
Right now, his only chance at temporary sanity was to dunk himself in the cold lake.
* * *
It only took Will five minutes to pack up his things, but Angelina swore it took an hour. He must know his effect on her. She was absolutely certain he was deliberately torturing her.
When he finally said, “Good night,” without turning to face her, then shut the door behind him, Angelina fell onto the bed gasping for air. She had been holding her breath while Will was in the bedroom with her. Within seconds, a bone-deep exhaustion hit her, and she couldn’t even muster up the energy to brush her teeth or take off her clothes.
She woke up at midnight, momentarily disoriented before she remembered where she was. In New York. At Will’s mother’s house.
His scent was all over the sheets and the pillowcase. It was self-torture lying there, breathing him in, having no choice but to relive the sweetness of his kisses.
She sat up in bed and brushed the hair away from her face. Maybe a walk in the brisk night air would help to clear her mind. Stripping off her horribly wrinkled clothes, she rummaged around in her luggage for a pair of jeans. She slipped them on
She broke off the kiss and stumbled away from him, hating the fact that he was too darn potent for her to think rationally. “Stop trying to confuse me. Tell me what’s going on right now,” she insisted, congratulating herself on her fairly poised delivery, considering that she felt as put together as an unmade puzzle.
“I don’t know. I have no idea why you’re here. All I know is that I’ve been calling you every hour for two straight days. You have no idea how frustrating it is when all I get is your voice mail. But now you’re here, standing right in front of me.”
Angelina was stunned by his soliloquy. “You’ve been trying to contact me for two days?”
“Maybe I should have left a message, but I wanted to explain things in person.”
He wanted to explain things. It was too close to what Bryce had said to her at the end of the summer. Will had just kissed her like he was dying of thirst and she was water ... but when was she going to learn that passionate kisses didn’t mean anything to men like them?
Trying for mature, hoping for calm, Angelina managed, “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”
“I don’t?”
She pasted a cheerful smile on her face. “I understand perfectly.”
“You do?”
“Of course.”
“But—”
Angelina cut him off before he could say anything that would hurt her more. She faked a yawn.
“If I’m going to have a good consultation with your mother tomorrow morning, I’d better get some rest.”
“My mother called you?”
Angelina stared at him in disbelief.
CHAPTER NINE
Judging by the closed, wounded look on Angelina’s face, he knew she wouldn’t believe him if he told her the truth. Frankly, he was having a hard time believing what his mother had done. She was worse than any of the other scheming mothers he’d encountered during the past twenty-four hours.
Was it wrong to be so pleased by her meddling?
“I hate to tell you this, but there’s only one spare bedroom.”
A look of utter disbelief and exhaustion settled over Angelina’s face.
Will cleared his throat and jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wanted to reach out for Angelina to comfort her, but something told him his touch wouldn’t be welcome. Not when she was so clearly upset with both him and his mother.
“I’m going to grab my stuff right now and clear out so you can have it.”
He groaned inwardly, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to get any sleep on the couch in the living room, with Angelina just a wall away. As it was, he was fighting the urge to pull her back into his arms.
How could it be that in weeks he had gone from being perfectly sane and in charge of his life to losing control over everything?
Right now, his only chance at temporary sanity was to dunk himself in the cold lake.
* * *
It only took Will five minutes to pack up his things, but Angelina swore it took an hour. He must know his effect on her. She was absolutely certain he was deliberately torturing her.
When he finally said, “Good night,” without turning to face her, then shut the door behind him, Angelina fell onto the bed gasping for air. She had been holding her breath while Will was in the bedroom with her. Within seconds, a bone-deep exhaustion hit her, and she couldn’t even muster up the energy to brush her teeth or take off her clothes.
She woke up at midnight, momentarily disoriented before she remembered where she was. In New York. At Will’s mother’s house.
His scent was all over the sheets and the pillowcase. It was self-torture lying there, breathing him in, having no choice but to relive the sweetness of his kisses.
She sat up in bed and brushed the hair away from her face. Maybe a walk in the brisk night air would help to clear her mind. Stripping off her horribly wrinkled clothes, she rummaged around in her luggage for a pair of jeans. She slipped them on
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