LITMIR.BIZ

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back with ferocious force.

      He shoved his hands deep in his pockets as much to stop them from reaching out to strip that dress from her body and touch her as to disguise the very visible effect she was having on him.

      ‘Well?’ she said expectantly, and he stared at her mouth, desperate to find out if she still tasted the same, felt the same.

      Which he couldn’t do, he realised as common sense made a timely and most welcome appearance. For about a billion reasons. She was his ex. He hadn’t thought about her like that for years. She probably still hated him. He didn’t think he particularly liked her. They had more history than the Egyptians. She had a boyfriend. He wasn’t thinking rationally. Or with his head.

      In fact, he should probably get out of here. Now. Before he lost control and did something he’d regret. Which was all too possible given the length of his abstinence and the strength of the assault his body and mind were under.

      ‘I should go,’ he said, his voice sounding scratchy and rough.

      Lily stared up at him in baffled astonishment. ‘What? Go? Why?’

      ‘You were right—we don’t have anything to talk about.’

      So much for all that nonsense about being able to behave like rational, sensible, civil adults, thought Kit grimly. Right now he was feeling anything but.

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Really.’

      She frowned. ‘Are you all right, Kit? You seem kind of upset all of a sudden.’

      The effort of keeping himself under control what with everything that was raging inside him was making his jaw ache. ‘I’m fine.’

      ‘You don’t look fine.’

      ‘Leave it, Lily.’

      ‘I don’t think I can,’ she said. ‘You really don’t seem well.’

      ‘I’ll survive.’

      Once he was out of here and out of her head-wrecking orbit and once he had time and space to work out what was going on he’d be absolutely fine.

      Probably.

      Galvanising into action, Kit grabbed his coat and began to shrug it on.

      ‘Wait,’ she said urgently. ‘Was it something I said?’

      The concern in her voice only made him feel even more confused. ‘No.’

      ‘Something I did, then?’

      Out of the corner of his eye he saw her frown and bite her lip and he gritted his teeth against the urge to throw himself on top of her and kiss the life out of her.

      This was horrendous. Why her? Why now? he wondered, his head pounding. He’d met dozens of women over the last few years. Beautiful, intelligent, fun women. Many just as attractive as Lily. Some even more so. So what the hell was happening here?

      ‘It was something I did,’ she said, leaping to her feet and taking a step towards him, potentially so close that he violently recoiled before she could touch him.

      ‘Don’t,’ he snapped.

      Lily froze. She paled. Frowned. Then said a bit shakily, ‘What’s going on, Kit?’

      ‘Nothing.’ Why wouldn’t she shut up and let him get on with the business of leaving?

      ‘Rubbish.’

      Kit ignored her. She could be as sceptical as she liked. He didn’t care. He was off.

      Not bothering with buttons, he whirled round and made for the way he’d come in, but before he could stride down the hall, through the front door and out into the safety of the dark, cold night Lily had whipped past him and planted herself between him and escape.

      He stopped in his tracks while she stuck her hands on her hips and set her jaw, a stance he’d never seen before but suggested she wasn’t going to let him go without an explanation. Which he was damned if he was going to give, so if she didn’t budge he’d just have to lift her out of the way.

      ‘Move, Lily.’

      ‘No,’ she said, her chin up and her eyes glinting in the soft, low light of the hall. ‘You show up in the early hours of New Year’s Day, make a big deal about wanting to talk and then suddenly you don’t want to talk? You’re making me worried and I won’t let you leave when you’re in this sort of state. So come on, what gives?’

      Now, clearly, was the time to march forwards, physically lift her aside and make his escape, thought Kit with the one brain cell that was still functioning rationally.

      But that would mean being near her, laying his hands on her, he reasoned with the part of his brain that was addled with lust, and once that happened he wouldn’t be lifting her out of the way, but pulling her close, backing her up against the door and divesting her of her clothing.

      Shoving his hands through his hair, he cursed whatever madness had made him think that seeking Lily out had been a good idea.

      And then, beneath his breath, he cursed her because why the hell was she making such a big deal about this? Why wasn’t she just letting him leave? Why did she care what was going on inside his head?

      Come to think of it, why was he making such a big deal about this? Why was he getting so wound up by what was happening to him?

      He ought to be glad his problem seemed to be solved, that he was ‘cured’. He ought to be thanking her and heading to the nearest bar in search of someone with whom he could make up for lost time. Or calling Carla, perhaps.

      And so what if he was still attracted to Lily? There was nothing surprising about that. The chemistry that had existed between the two of them had always been instant, fiery and intense. Even towards the end of their relationship when they’d been too battered by what had happened between them to want to act on it, it had still been there, simmering away in the background.

      But what if what he was feeling towards Lily now was more than mere sexual chemistry? Something deeper?

      Kit froze as the idea of this stormed into his mind and opened up a whole labyrinth of other possible truths.

      What if the problem he’d had sleeping with other women in the last five years didn’t have anything to do with guilt or regret or self-recrimination? What if it was down to the fact that he was still hung up on his ex-wife?

      He’d assumed he’d got over Lily years ago. But from the moment they’d met she’d got under his skin and been in his blood, like some kind of fever, the sort that was quick, fierce and lethal. And incurable. So maybe she was still there. In his blood. Under his skin. Tucked away in some long-forgotten corner of his heart.

      Maybe that was why he’d kept vague tabs on her. Maybe that was why the idea of her having a boyfriend bothered him so much. Why he’d wanted to remind her of the good times they’d had together and had deliberately if obliquely brought up that afternoon in the woods.

      Maybe she still felt something too, he thought, his heart hammering while his mind churned. Hadn’t she flinched when she’d let him in? Hadn’t her eyes darkened and her cheeks reddened when he’d alluded to the al fresco sex?

      Despite the cool-as-a-cucumber air she was exuding now, despite the defiant stance, he could hear a slight shallowness to her breathing and he could just about make out a familiar faint flush to the skin of her upper chest. There was also a flicker of heat in her eyes that he didn’t think was solely down to her wish to know why he was here.

      So maybe, as chemistry didn’t seem to have a time limit any more than it had anything to do with liking and trust, she was still as attracted to him as he was to her. Maybe it was something more for her too, despite the existence of a boyfriend.

      Maybe he ought to think about finding out.

      With his common sense spinning off into the distance and his head swimming

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