Page 49 of The Comeback Heir
Felicity lifted her chin. “I know you’ll want to argue about this, but I plan to go to Falcon’s Notch a week from Saturday and bury my father. I’ll go alone. Leave Saturday morning and be back by Sunday evening.”
When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Ayla, cute as she is, complicates things. It will be a private graveside service. No need for a big fuss.”
His gaze narrowed. “Is it so very important for you to prove you don’t need anyone?”
She firmed her resolve. “You and I are not in a relationship. My responsibilities are my own.”
“And if we share a bed tonight...this week...what then?”
“Just sex,” she said, the words deliberately flippant. “You’ve been clear about that, and I appreciate your honesty.”
The irritated expression on his face spoke volumes. Wynn was a man who liked to control every situation. Right now, she was pissing him off.
“Travel is exhausting,” he said. “It might be nice to have a friend along for the ride. I could get Missy to stay here with Ayla. Probably.”
“Thank you,” Felicity said...very politely. “But I’ll be fine.”
With his free hand, he clenched the arm of the chair, his knuckles white. “I wish I could be the man you need. A forever kind of man. But I’m not. For a dozen different reasons. But this isn’t the time for you to make snap decisions. You have feelings to process.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not my shrink.”
He sat up, leaned forward, set his glass on the table with hers. “No. I’m not,” he said, jaw clenched. “I get that. But for God’s sake, Fliss. You just found out that your mother isn’t dead...and both of your parents lied to you. What are you going to do about that?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I’ll take a page out of your book.”
His gaze narrowed. “Meaning what?”
“When you and I broke up, you ran far and fast from Falcon’s Notch and reinvented yourself as a business tycoon. Look at you. No one in this city has any notion that you’re the kid who came to school in dirty clothes because your parents couldn’t be bothered to go to the laundromat.”
His jaw hardened. “So?”
“How am I any different if I simply ignore what I found out in Florida?”
Green eyes blazed. “Your mother isn’t dead. You have the chance to mend something.”
“I don’t want to,” she snapped.
Wynn bowed his head and rubbed his temples. “Fine. Poison your guts with resentment and anger. Why should I care?”
She kicked off her shoes, curling her toes into the carpet. “I don’t need your drama, Wynn. All I want is your body. Preferably naked, though you do look very fine in that suit.”
He gaped at her.
Deep in her knot-filled stomach, she reveled in the fact that she had managed to shock him.
“Fliss, I—”
She glared. “If you dare tell me we can’t have sex because I’m not in a good place, I may punch you.”
His lips twitched in a wry smile. “That sounds interesting. Would I be tied up in this scenario?”
“In your dreams.” She huffed out a laugh. “To be clear, I’m ready for bed. With you.” She rose to her feet and stood in front of his chair, straddling his legs. “Is that a problem?”
His humor faded. “No. But who needs a bed?” Slowly, he put his hands on her thighs, just above her knees, and shimmied the thin crepe skirt upward. Now he could see her black thong...and the fact she was mostly naked from the waist down. “Holy hell,” he muttered.
He pushed on her shoulders until she was seated on his lap, the skirt awkwardly bunched at her hips. He cupped her head in his hands and kissed her lightly. A butterfly caress on her lips.
She moaned and leaned closer. He was so warm and wonderful. Now that it was happening, all thoughts of using sex for oblivion faded. Her arousal sprang to life, surprisingly voracious.