“No.” The truth came out in a broken whisper. Her hips rotated involuntarily. “I want this.” Her voice caught, and she swallowed once more. “But…I don’t…know how…”
His mouth left her shoulder, and he released her breast. With far more purpose in his hands, he turned her around to face him. Concern touched his intense, blue eyes, along with a heavy shot of confusion. “How to what, sweetheart?”
She stared at the base of his throat, unable to look him in the eye as she confessed the embarrassing truth. “How to let go of myself when you know me. We’re not strangers anymore. Total freedom is…lost.”
For the briefest millisecond of time, a frown creased his brow. Then, he stepped away, caught her hand, and led her into the front room where they’d left their work. He pointed at a throw pillow. “Wait there.”
Befuddled, she sat on the overstuffed down, watching him through a narrowed, mistrustful gaze. “What are you doing?”
Brad shrugged. “Lighting this fire.”
Cassie blinked. He was doing…what?
He took a knee in front of the hearth, pulled open the glass doors, and tossed in a log. “When I’m done here, I’m going to light the one in that guest room you mentioned. And then…” He ripped off a sheet of newspaper, balled it up, and stuffed it under the logs he’d stacked. “Then you’re going to tell me where you’d rather talk.”
Talk? They’d gone from sex to talking? “Why?” she blurted out.
Brad drew a long matchstick across the container and held it to the paper. When it caught, when the flames began to lick at the dried wood, he tossed the stick in, pulled the chain curtain shut, and swiveled to face her. “Because you aren’t comfortable with me. And we’re going to talk until you are.”
A shudder gripped her. Damn, how could he make something so benign, sound so harmful?
Chapter Thirteen
There was something immensely satisfying about building a fire. Particularly when Brad hadn’t done so since Boy Scout camping days. That he could remember how gave him a sense of accomplishment. Accomplishment that eased the disconcerting knowledge that Cassie was uncomfortable with him. Or maybe with herself. He intended to discover which before the night was over.
He stepped onto the bottom stair and entered the living room, to find her sprawled out on the floor, the pillow tucked under folded elbows. She stared at the fire, lazily kicked her feet back and forth through the air. At the sound of his footfalls, she pushed herself back into a sitting position. Apprehension filled her eyes.
Talking had never been his thing. Not when it came to women, at least. But it had become imperative to break down her walls and get to the root of why she was resisting taking things further. She was smart and savvy; he didn’t buy her paltry excuse about the career risks, even if Clinton had all but said Cassie needed to win this case. No, there was something else, some deeper reason. His gaze scampered over her thin frame as he considered where to start.
She didn’t mind the casual interaction when they were focused on work. Didn’t hesitate to throw in a joke that caught him off guard, or tease when he wasn’t expecting it. As long as he didn’t touch her, as long as the interpersonal boundaries weren’t breached…she would be completely at ease.
So he’d start there. Even if the prospect of doing so killed him. His voice hoarsening before he could spit out the first word, he gestured at her pajamas. “Take those off.”
Her dainty mouth dropped open. She quickly snapped it shut and blinked at him. “I thought we were—”
Brad arched an eyebrow. “We are. Now, please, work with me.”
Cassie stopped talking. As her hands dropped to the hem of her shirt, he gave her a short nod. “All off.”
While she shimmied out of her clothes, he shucked his own and grabbed the heavy quilt from the back of the nearby sofa. He spread it on the ground, close to the fire, then sat down cross-legged, determined to ignore the way his cock hovered at half mast. Cassie regarded him from her perch atop her pillow, a faint flush to her skin. He patted a spot on the blanket in front of his knees. “Come here, beautiful.”