Why couldn’t I leave her alone?

She’d been walking away, and all she’d taken with her were two little twigs off a couple of pines that I wasn’t even sure belonged to me. Why had I gone after her? Why was I talking more to her than I had to anyone in years?

Was it just because she’d fired back with that fuck comment? She’d caught me off guard, sure, but that shouldn’t have been enough to get me to do something so out of character.

Except that comment had made me think about fucking. Not what’s-her-name from Miami. No, I was thinking about fucking the beautiful dark-haired woman whose feathers I couldn’t seem to ruffle.

Except I had. That comment about her store had ruffled her. That stupid, thoughtless comment that I never should have said and didn’t really mean. I’d always hated it when people made assumptions about me based on what they thought they knew about me and about my family, but that hadn’t stopped me from doing the same thing to her. She should have called me out on it. Sworn at me. Called me every name in the book. Instead, she’d gotten a little snarky, but I’d deserved more than snark.

Then she’d started testing me, and I knew she was doing it on purpose. No one provoked me intentionally, especially not someone who most likely knew my reputation for not liking people. But that hadn’t stopped her. In fact, the more annoyed I got, the more it seemed to amuse her.

Why the fuck couldn’t I leave her alone?

I hadn’t meant to grab her arm, not really. I’d just wanted her to stop walking away from me. I kept telling her to go, but I didn’t actually want her to go. I wanted her to keep sparring with me. I wanted to see how far I could push her.

Then my hand was wrapped around her wrist, and she was close enough for me to see into the depths of those deep brown eyes of hers. Close enough to know that she didn’t wear perfume, but rather that she smelled like herbs and other plants…and pine.

“I bought this place because it was private. I don’t invite people out here because I don’t want people out here. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. I want you to leave me alone.” The words came rushing out, but not all of them were true. Or, rather, they weren’t all completely true. The things I’d always wanted were at odds with what she made me want.

Want. Maybe that’s all this was. I wanted her. She was strong, and not only physically. She didn’t freak out or act like she was frightened of me, not even when I’d yelled, which made me wonder if she was the sort of woman who could listen to what I wanted without judging, who was strong enough to not only take it but give as good as she got.

“And?”

For a moment, I thought she was starting a sentence, but then I realized that was all she was going to say. Any other woman would’ve slapped me, yelled at me, done something to make sure I understood how far out of line I was. Not her. She didn’t even pull away from me. But one look in her eyes and I could tell that she wasn’t holding back because she feared me. I could see she wasn’t happy with me, but there was no fear.

My gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips, and for the second time in the last few minutes, I wondered what they would feel like against my mouth, my skin, my cock.

Fuck.

Just the thought was enough to get me half-hard, but it wasn’t enough to make me step back.

That should have been my first warning to stay away. Any time I thought a woman could possibly mean more to me than sex, I walked away. I didn’t fuck women I found obnoxious, but I also didn’t fuck women I thought were fascinating either, and that if there was a single word to describe how I felt about Brea at that moment, it was fascinated.

I wanted to shake sense into her, but I also wanted to kiss her breathless. I wanted to leave her gasping and wanting more. Would she melt against me, her mouth soft and pliant? Or would she try to take control of the kiss? What would she sound like if I kissed her, if I bit her lip? Would she even let me kiss her or would she stop me before I could get that far? Would she tell me no or push me away? Either way, I’d respect her decision.

And that was when I realized that I still had ahold of her arm.

I released it, guilt flooding me. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Apology accepted,” she said, straightening her sleeve.

She was going to walk away, and I couldn’t let her go with that being my last impression. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want her to think I was the sort of asshole who’d hurt her. An asshole who yelled and snarled like a child throwing a temper tantrum, yeah, but I couldn’t stand it if she thought I was an abusive asshole.

Of course, instead of politely offering to walk her to her car, or telling her she was welcome to come back, I thought it was a great idea to ask her to dinner. And I couldn’t even get that right.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

I’d meant to make it a request, but of course, it came out as a demand. I’d never been charming like my brother Slade, but this was simply pathetic. What made it even worse is that I didn’t even know why I wanted to have dinner with her. I didn’t really do the whole ‘take a woman on a date’ thing. It was always sex, nothing more.

Apologies came in the form of flowers or cards, and that would’ve been fine. An offer to look around my property might’ve put me in a better light.

Dinner? Dinner was a date, and I didn’t date.

Her head was tilted to the side, her expression somber, like she was studying me, seeing deeper inside me than anyone else ever had.

“All right,” she said. She took a step toward me, then moved up on her toes so she could kiss my cheek. “I’ll be at your place at six. I’m a vegetarian, but I don’t mind if you eat meat.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me staring after her and wondering just what the hell, had just happened.