His special scent of fresh pine and indefinable masculinity filled the car and tormented her senses. Her hormones were already railing against the tight control she had over them when she realised she didn’t have everything she needed to finish the finer details in her briefcase. It was akin to torture being in such a small space with him, and her control was wearing thin. The knowledge that the project would be wound up today and she could relax for a few days without worrying about her rioting emotions when he was around had kept her going. Now she’d have to meet up with him probably tomorrow and she’d have to wall-up and protect her heart with everything she had all over again. She groaned and slumped her head back against the headrest. “Damn. The photos!”

They’d entered New York’s outskirts and Andrew had peeled off the interstate to take her to her side of town. “Photos?”

“For the advertising. I wanted to choose the images we need,” she said.

“No problem, I have them on a hard drive at home,” Andrew said.

She quirked a brow, “Your home?”

“I have access to our backup there. All drives at work get backed up every day and I’m one of the few, apart from my IT guys, that can access it. I’m only ten minutes away if you want to call in and go over them.”

Ten minutes. Ten more tortuous minutes where she’d have to guard what she said to stop herself from pouring her heart out to him. The temptation was irresistible. Just pour it all out and tell him how she actually felt.

But what right had she to do that? He certainly didn’t deserve to take on her baggage. Besides, if she did that, then he’d be more than just a ‘friend’. The line would totally dissolve and she’d be in a place where her heart and her plans would be sacrificed.

The energy and sheer will power it took to keep within the client / customer boundaries was exhausting. She so wanted him to be more than just a ‘friend’. The word ‘friend’ didn’t define what she wanted to do with him. To him.

And not just once.

If that line was crossed, she’d be totally derailed, that was for sure.

She swallowed. Hard. Ten minutes and then the images would all be sorted out and she could hide for a few days and not have to stop herself from falling into his arms and kissing him senseless.

The line. Remember the line. That line that could not be crossed for any reason. The reason. It was a good one. Her family. Getting them out of poverty. They were there because of you. Remember, Charlotte. That reason. The reason she could never stay in the states and the reason she would return home. For good.

Get a grip, Charlotte!

She clenched her fists. OK. She could do this. Ten minutes. They’d go over the photos. She’d approve them. Then she could go. Take a cab back to her condo. Her cold, sad, lonely condo.

That’s what she deserved. To be alone. To rectify what she’d done to her parents. The people who had only loved and supported her beyond anything parents should do. They wrote the book on parenting, and then blasted it to pieces.

Andrew drove his sleek car into the underground carpark to his condo building. He placed a heated palm against the small of her back as he guided her into the elevator. The gentle touch sent a fission of tingles into her stomach. She didn’t remember what they spoke about on the way up. Her attention was so riveted to his touch that never left her, even though he could have they rode the elevator to his condo, even when they walked the short distance down the corridor and even when they stepped into his sparse condo.

The strength of his body next to her, the way he was so close made her feel safe. Protected. Special. Their mutual attraction as unspoken, but it was so very close to the line.

She stepped away, missing his touch immediately. She clenched her briefcase to her chest as a flimsy type of protective barrier. Something was better than nothing. He shed his jacket and tie, folding both over the back of a chair and her mouth instantly watered at the sight of him in his pristine white business shirt that moulded superbly to his torso.

The sleeves pulled at his biceps, accentuating the ridges of defined muscle beneath the flimsy material. She was a sucker for a well-fitting shirt and he just looked so good in them. A little voice piped up in the back of her brain that he’d probably look a whole lot better without anything on at all, but she shoved it back down as forcefully as she could. “Huh?”

His mouth stretched into a perfect smile, “I said, it might take some time to look through them all. I’m starving. I thought I could make us something to eat while we go through the images. What do you think?”

“Ah…” The line, Charlotte. Remember the line.

“I’m cooking.”

“You cook?” she asked.

His smile was catching and she felt herself smiling in response. “The basics only. Soufflé. Baked Alaska. Galantine. That type of thing.”

“Uh-ha. And I’m Jamie Oliver’s right hand gal,” Charlotte laughed, tension running from her shoulders.

“That’s sou chef, for people in the know,” Andrew said. He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the sleek black marble kitchen bench.

“Well, Chef Robinson what are we having for dinner?”

“I make a mean omelette. Are you game?” Andrew said.

All Charlotte could do was laugh. “I’ll have your best gourmet omelette then.”

“Your wish is my command,” Andrew said.

Andrew placed the glass of wine on the bench and then poured one for himself. She took a sip, even though she knew she shouldn’t on an empty stomach, and enjoyed the cool wine flowing down her throat. She shouldn’t be drinking wine with Andrew at all, but it was just so nice to relax with him at the end of a long day. Hell, it was the end of a long month.

The wine had a pleasant relaxing effect and she noticed the bottle was just about empty. It had gone down so easily she hadn’t realised they drunk so much. But it was just so nice to sit and relax at least for an hour or so. Work waited for her when she got back home, but recently it was always there. And it had lost the charm it once held for her.

Besides, at home she couldn’t watch Andrew standing at the stove cooking dinner. Her gaze slid over his body as he faced the stove. His pants flowed perfectly around his strong thighs. She’d never had the opportunity to just stare like this at him before so she was surprised when she realised just how damn sexy he was from the back. She could get used to looking at him like this. He was the whole package. Charming. Funny. Intelligent. Caring. And so utterly sexy.

Knowing all that was only going to make it harder to leave. Her stomach flopped uncomfortably and she swivelled in her seat to stop staring at him. His condo was neat to the point of impersonal and suddenly she knew what was missing. “You don’t have any photographs,” she said.

Andrew passed her a plate of a very messy looking omelette. “Photographs?”

Charlotte indicated the omelette. “Gourmet, huh? Yes photographs. You don’t have any. Didn’t you say you had a sister?”

Andrew sat on the opposite side of the bench. “And a niece and nephew and brother-in-law.”

Charlotte swallowed a piece of omelette. “This is delicious. I have photographs everywhere. My parents, brothers and sisters. Extended family. Friends. I hardly have a place left put any more. Surely you have some photos of friends. It makes you feel like they’re still around.”

“Haven’t seen my sister for quite a long time. I’m really not sure what she looks like now. And friends? I can’t say I go out with them that often,” Andrew said.

“Oh Andrew. That’s so sad. I know you haven’t seen your sister for a long time, but... why?” The words were out before she could stop herself. She’d totally stepped over the line saying something so personal, but her heart just bled when she thought of him not having family in his life and no close friends around. She couldn’t bear for him to be alone and lonely and when she looked about the Spartan condo she realised that’s what he must be.

He worked so hard for such long hours he’d neglected that side of himself. You’ll be like this too if you keep on going the same way, a snide little voice piped up in her head. When she tried to shove it down into the deep, dark place she locked all things she didn’t want to hear, it refused to go. Haven’t you been working long hours, just like Andrew? You haven’t even booked your flight back home. You’re not going to get there if you don’t do it soon.

But she just needed to know why he didn’t see his sister. Maybe, if she found out, she could help him. It would be her way of saying thank you for how much he meant to her when she left. If he had his sister back in his life, he would at least have someone to care for and who would love him back. And he’d said she had children. What better thing could she do than to reunite them with their uncle. This was what Christmas was about anyway. Forgiving people, getting in contact with lost family. It was the perfect excuse. “Why haven’t you seen her? Why did you lose contact?”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped and a look of intense pain crossed his face. She reached out and cupped his hand in hers. Their fingers intertwined. When he looked up at her, his eyes were dark pools filled with unrequited pain. “We were just kids when we were split up. It was just the way the system was. No-one wanted children our age, let alone two of us.”

Charlotte gasped. Her fingers tightened around his. “You’re an orphan?”

He sighed, a long, deep, drawn out breath. “My parents died in a car crash. Drunk driver. Same old story. I was eleven. Mandy was thirteen. The only way we could be fostered was if we were split. Everyone wants babies and little kids. Not a boy bordering on teenage years already filled with rage.”

“I’m so sorry, Andrew.” Tears blurred her vision and she blinked hard.

His mouth lifted in a half smile. “It’s okay. You don’t know what you don’t have. I never had much of anything when I was growing up anyway to tell you the truth.”

“I can understand that. I never had much of anything either, but I did have my family. That’s the only thing that really matters in the end. Promise me something,” Charlotte said after a moment.

“Anything.”

“Call your sister soon. Get to know your niece and nephew. For Christmas,” Charlotte said.

Andrew’s gaze searched her face, looking for something she hoped she could provide. “I can’t say my sister would want me to contact her after so long, but okay. I’ll do it for you, Charlotte.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure she’ll love to hear from you. It’s worth a try. Do it for yourself. It’ll be worth it. I promise. Everyone needs someone special in their life.” Especially at Christmas time.

“Yes. They do, Charlotte,” Andrew said.

Their fingers intertwined. She stared at their joined hands, wishing it could be so much more than just this. Wishing was all it could ever be. ‘Andrew… I will return home to Australia. You know that, don’t you?” Her voice cracked. Something cold and uncomfortable settled in the pit of her stomach.

She went to pull away but he caught her fingers, stopping her. “Charlotte, I…”

She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She was tilting on the edge of uncertainty and she knew whatever he said would topple her over the edge of a bad decision. He deserved to know why she couldn’t do this. Shouldn’t do this. “My mind's made up. I… I just have to go back. There’s a very good reason.”

“What is the reason. Tell me. I’ll help you. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can find a way,” Andrew said.

Charlotte smiled, wishing, just wishing that he was right. But there was no magical way she could reverse time. She had to make things right. “Let’s have a look at those photos. Shall we? After that, I really need to be going.”

His fingers gripped for a moment longer, then let her go. She flattened her palm on the bench top. Her skin was so hot that condensation framed her fingers.

“Okay. I’ll get my laptop and we can go through them on the sofa.”

She tried to ignore the ragged edge in his voice, that a wound spontaneously ruptured in her heart so deep that just might never heal. She reached for her freshly filled glass of wine and took a long drink hoping the effects might numb the pain.