“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my new assignment,” I manage to say without drool dripping down my chin.

Noah is one of those men who looks hotter each time I see him. He’s gorgeous on a bad day. However, the sight of him in a navy T-shirt that is practically painted on, khaki shorts, and two days’ worth of stubble on his face makes me want to fall into a pool just so he can strip me again. Only this time, I’ll be sober so I can actually enjoy it.

I need to get laid.

His hands brace on both sides of the door, and he leans forward. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I could, but what would be the fun in that?”

“I’m pretty sure we could have fun.” He smiles.

Oh, I don’t doubt it. “I’m going to pretend you’re talking about the article I’m apparently writing about you.”

Noah lets out a throaty chuckle. “What else would I be talking about? Is there another kind of fun that involves the two of us that you’re thinking of?”

I’m onto his game. “The only fun between us will be posted online.”

He rights himself and removes his sunglasses, showing me his bedroom eyes. Damn him and his sexiness. His voice is low and sultry with an edge of humor. “I figured since you didn’t give me your number the other night, I should stop by so we can get the next few weeks figured out.”

“How sweet of you,” I allow the sarcasm to flow. “I get an article I didn’t ask for, and you’ve managed to ensure we’ll spend weeks together.”

Noah takes a step closer to me, but I hold my ground against the intensity between us. The closer he gets, the more my legs shake. My stomach has millions of butterflies in it and my throat is dry. The musky sandalwood cologne hits me, reminding me again of what it was like to be in his arms.

Pull it together, Kristin. You can’t go down this path.

“Do you worry about being around me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I?” I retreat, but Noah follows, denying me the space I was going for.

“Why are you trying to get away now?”

I clench my fists and force myself not to give another inch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiles like the cat that ate the canary. “I’m not, either.”

That is exactly what I was afraid of. Heather was right—I’m so fucked. I have no idea what Noah’s game is, or if it extends past his bid to get into my pants, but I can’t deny the attraction between us. His gaze rakes over my face and then down to my chest. My breathing is accelerated, and he’d have to be blind to miss all the signs that I’m both turned on and terrified.

“Well—” My voice cracks, making me have to clear my throat. “I guess we better get to work.”

“Yes, I’m ready to get to work.”

I shift over to the side and focus on breathing. Having distance is the key to this. When I’m not so close, it isn’t so bad. Sure, short of putting a paper bag over his head, there’s nothing I can do to make him less hot, but space will keep me from doing something stupid.

Like leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

I make a mental list of rules to ensure success for the project. Noah is smooth, sexy, and kisses like a God. The way he touches me, tastes, and scatters my thoughts will be what makes this train go off the tracks. I can’t think about how his fingers felt digging into my back or the way his lips moved with mine.

And now I’m keyed up.

Way not to think about it, Kris.

The list. Yes. I need a list of rules.

“We need some ground rules,” I say, lifting my hand so he’ll stop encroaching on my much-needed space.

He laughs.

“I’m serious. If you want me to write this article,” Not that I have a choice, “then you’ll need to agree to my terms.”

He struts closer. “I’m listening.”

“None of this.” I point to him. “No trying to be close to me with your sexy moves and whatnot.”

Noah stops and raises his brow. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Yes, I mean, no. You know what I’m saying, damn it! You’re all flirty with me. No being flirty!” He knows exactly what I’m saying.

“Okay.” He stands straight. “No flirting.”

Good. I think.

“Next rule, no dates. You can’t take me out and schmooze me, thinking it’ll lead to sex. We’re not having any kind of sex.” I put my hands on my hips.

Noah’s lips form into a panty-melting smile. “What I’m hearing is that you think about sex with me.”

“I don’t.” I lie.

He moves closer. “Then why worry about a date?”

“Because we’re not dating. I’m writing about your life.”

“And you’ve already told the world that I have feelings for someone, haven’t you?”

I knew this article was going to be a mistake. He gave me that piece of info, knowing I would have to publish it but not be able to say more. My pulse quickens as he takes another step toward me.

“Not the point. And you’re being flirty again!”

He grins as he continues to inch closer. Stupid smirky bastard is making my thoughts scatter.

“They’ll want to know who it is that I’m suddenly chasing after.” His head tilts to the side.

“All the more reason for no public appearances.” I shake my head. “Do you agree to the terms?” My feet shift back until I hit the back of the couch. I’m trapped, and he’s still pursuing me.

“No.” His voice is low.

“No?”

“No, we’ll have food because we’ll need to eat. We’ll be in public because I’m not going to spend the next month hiding, and it’s going to be very hard for you to keep your hands off me if we’re always alone.” His voice is full of mischief.

Bastard might be right. It will be harder to keep my . . . wait a minute. “Keep my hands off you?”

He shrugs. “You are the one who tried to kiss me the first night and told me about how amazing you are in bed. By the way, I’m happy to test that theory out if you need confirmation.”

My jaw falls open. He tried to kiss me. Heck, he did kiss me. It was him who initiated all of this. Plus, that night I was toasted, so nothing I did should be held against me since I only remember fragments. Now, the other night, yeah, I kissed him back. Not first.

“Your memory is a bit off, pal.”

“Pal?”

“You know, buddy, pal, bro, homey . . .”

Why am I having to explain this?

Then he laughs.

You would think with the way our exchanges go that I’d never dealt with a man before. I’m starting to wonder if I’m just incapable of human interaction at this point.

“You can call me anything you want if you kiss me again,” Noah offers.

“Kiss you?” I scoff. “No.”

“Then you can only refer to me as ‘Man I have feelings for but refuse to admit it.’”

Like that’s ever going to happen. “Or I can refer to you as ‘Delusional actor who thinks he’s hot.’”

“You’ve already admitted you think I’m hot.”

“You’re all right.” I try for nonchalance.

While he’s near me, he’s followed the first rule and has stayed back more than I thought. I’m grateful for the distance because the yearning to kiss him strengthens the closer he is.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your body says another.” His eyes drift to my breasts.

Sure enough, my nipples are poking out like two mountain peaks. “I’m cold.”

“I’ll let you have your lies.”

“How nice of you.” I cross my arms over my chest. Stupid boobs.

Noah takes a few steps back, and I look to the ceiling, praying for divine intervention. I have three weeks of this torture, but then he’ll be gone. This isn’t his home, New York is, and the last thing I have time for is some guy who will breeze in and out of my life.

I have two kids to think about and a divorce hearing in a week. Noah Frazier is the least of my worries.

“I read the article,” he says as he turns to face me.

I’m surprised he read it, but I’m not sure if I want to know what he thought. His face isn’t giving me any clues. “And?” I can’t help myself.

“I think the title is funny,” he smiles.

Mission accomplished. Eli has mentioned that they never read the tabloids, claiming that it’s better to pretend you don’t know what people are saying about you. I’ve seen some of the comments about Noah online. It’s horrible that anyone thinks they have the right to judge his life. So what if he eats unhealthy once? Why is Noah subjected to being told that his acting isn’t up to par with someone? Access to celebrities is a luxury I never had as a kid, but I’d like to believe if everyone treated them the way they would face to face, it would be a better place.

“I didn’t know you read articles about yourself,” I say as I make my way to the couch.

I’m sure he has thick skin, but he isn’t made of Kevlar. Words can hurt, I know this better than most. Scott may have never physically assaulted me, but he planted seeds of doubt that bloomed into roses with thorns. Each prick drew blood, forcing a new rivulet of pain to flow, showing me that there were possible truths to his words. Even once those wounds healed, there was a scar to remind me that it happened. I would do anything in my power to never feel that way again and I completely understand why Noah would protect himself by not looking at articles.

He shrugs. “I don’t, but I wasn’t concerned with reading a bunch of bullshit. Plus, I needed to know if I had to discredit you with the information I have.”

My head hurts from this conversation. Him and his information. No one is going to care about what I do. Plus, he seems to forget I may not be able to say what was off the record, but I sure can use it to make his life hell.

Instead of arguing, I go back to the beginning of this discussion. “About the rules—”

“Yeah about that.” He cuts me off. “I think they’re dumb, and I’m not interested. We’ll just do this my way.”

Seriously? He doesn’t get to decide that. I’m the one leading this article, so there needs to be some sort of order. Plus, I don’t care if he’s interested, this isn’t up for debate.

“No rules, no article.”

“Again, I’m going to call bullshit.” He grips his chin with his hand. “When I talked to your boss, she was excited about this. I have a feeling you really don’t have a choice, do you?” He grins, and I fight the urge to punch him.

“Why is that, Noah?” I can’t wait to hear this one.

“Not a clue. I was simply helping out a friend. You know, job security is a rarity in this industry.”

Sure, I believe that one.

Noah walks into the living room like he owns the place.

I watch him, letting the one nagging question come back to my mind. “What made you decide to do this anyway? You’ve never done any kind of major press, so what could possibly be the reason you suddenly feel like telling your life story?”

“You.”

My lips part. “What?”

“Because of you,” Noah repeats.

I look for some sign that he’s joking, but there isn’t any. He’s completely serious. For a fleeting moment, I think it actually could be me, and then I realize I am being ridiculous. There is no reason for it to have anything to do with us; we’re nothing.

He wouldn’t stay in Tampa for weeks just for me, would he?

If he is, what the hell does that mean?

“Why would you say that?” I ask while touching my throat.

He pushes off the table and stands before me. “I’m being honest. I find that there’s no reason to beat around the bush. If you ask me a question and we’re not on the record, then you’ll never have to question my words, Kristin. It’s because of you that I’m here.”

I stare at him, hating that my life is so fucked up. That I’m so fucked up. If it were another time and place, I’d be all over him. In a few short days, I’ve felt more for Noah than I have for anyone in years. When he’s near me, I forget the rules of what I’m supposed to be . . . I just am.

But giving in to him would be a mistake. One I’m not prepared to make.

I’m damaged inside, and there are far too many bruises and broken bones left to heal before I can put myself out there.

“I know you think that, but you have no idea what I’m really like.”

Noah’s hand lifts and skims my cheek. “I know that your laugh makes my heart race. The way you smile when you think no one is watching stirs something inside me that makes me desperate for more. The way your entire face lights up when you talk about Finn and Aubrey. I know what it feels like to have you in my arms, touch your lips, and fuck, I’d be lying if I said I’m not wishing for it again. I think about you more than I should. I know that you think you’re weak, but I see a strong, beautiful, and smart woman who deserves a man to worship her. More than any of that, Kristin, I should walk out and let both our lives be a hell of a lot less complicated than trying to start something, but here I am. You’re worth complicating things.”

My breath hitches and I tingle from head to toe. “I do-don’t—” I stutter. “I’m . . . you’re . . .” The words I want to say won’t come out because each thought I have gets cut off by another.

His dark green eyes are open and expressive. His tone is playful, but his gaze isn’t. I see the desire, hope, and wonder there, and they stun me.

What were my reasons again? I can’t seem to remember them.

Noah inches closer, causing my heart to accelerate so fast I’m worried I might pass out. My thoughts are jumbled, my chest is tight, and I don’t know how to respond. I want him, I want him when I know I shouldn’t.

My divorce hearing is in a week, my life is a mess, and this is too soon. I shouldn’t have feelings for this man. I shouldn’t want his hands all over my body.

I should be pushing him back, forcing myself away from him because I don’t know if I can endure yet another heartbreak. The man I loved failed me, what is to say he won’t?

Noah’s eyes stay on mine, almost as if he can read the confliction that stirs within me.

His lips turn to a grin and he straightens, breaking the intensity. “I need to head out and meet someone. I’ll be back in a few days, and we can begin then.” Noah leans in, kisses my cheek, and lifts my chin so my eyes meet his. “Okay?”

“Huh?” I question, not comprehending what he said.

“Three days?” He smiles.

“Sure. Days away. I’ll be here.” Days away? What the hell is wrong with me?

“Perfect.” His lips move toward mine, and I freeze. He’s going to kiss me, and I’m just standing like a statue, unsure if I want this or at least trying to pretend I don’t want this. Instead of touching, though, he holds still as our breaths linger. His voice is barely a whisper, but I hear the words as if he’s yelling. “I’m going to win your heart, Kristin. Be ready.”

His touch is gone a second before he turns and walks out the door.

I grip the back of the couch and try to catch my breath because I’m in no way ready.