As if that wasn’t bad enough—and it was plenty bad—he’d gone and changed the game. How was she supposed to keep her distance if he insisted on showing her glimpses of a childhood not so far off her own? Hadn’t she run from LA like the hounds of hell were chasing her? The similarities weren’t comfortable.

Nor was the idea of keeping her hands off of him.

Instead of clearing her mind, the cold air made her more acutely aware of her body. Her stupid nipples hardened, which only made her think of how good it felt when Ryan put his mouth on them. “Stop it.”

Wonderful. Now she was talking to herself. She shouldered through the back door and stalked across the room to dump the firewood in the metal holder. Her ire lasted only as long as it took her to turn around and catch a glimpse of Ryan washing the dishes with the same single-minded intensity he had when his hands were on her body.

Heat chased the cold from her skin and left a flush in its wake. Oh, this wasn’t good. If she stood here much longer, she was going to end up walking over there and seeing just how serious he was about holding out on her.

Chapter Twelve

Ryan finished washing and drying the dishes and moved on to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. It didn’t really need the scrub-down, but he needed something, anything, to keep himself away from Bri. Though she seemed ready to go toe-to-toe with him again, his goals had changed with their conversation.

While he cooked the oatmeal, he’d gotten a glimpse of the side of Bri that sparked his curiosity in a huge way. She’d be easy to write off if she didn’t show him those flashes of vulnerability and sweetness. More than that, the way she shied from talking about her past only intrigued him more. There were shadows there, and he wanted to find out exactly what had brought her to Wellingford.

Hell, he wanted to know everything.

It didn’t help that she was wrapped around her book on the couch, absently running her fingers through the ends of her hair. She was totally lost to reality, and he had a few ideas on how to bring her back. None of which he could implement, because he was supposed to be talking with her—not yanking off her clothes and kissing every inch of her body. She looked so damn comfortable he was tempted to curl up next to her, which was exactly the wrong thing to do if he was intent on keeping his hands to himself.

He built up the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t look up, not even to throw out a comment about him burning something down. Disappointment flared, followed by the realization… Holy shit, he actually enjoyed bickering with her.

Ryan sat back on his heels and gave her his full attention. She didn’t so much as twitch. That must be one hell of a book if she was able to ignore him—and the opportunity to rib him—so completely. Though common sense said he should just let it be, he couldn’t sit here and let her ignore him. And the temptation to see if he could provoke her, just a little, was too much to resist.

He dropped onto the sofa across from her. “What are you reading?”

“A book.”

He could already see her checking out on him, her attention sliding back to the words on the page in front of her. An idea took root, slipping out of his mouth before he had a chance to think better of it. “Read it to me.”

That got her attention. She actually tore her gaze from the book and frowned at him. “What?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but this place doesn’t have much in the way of entertainment. So entertain me.”

“I’m not a performing monkey.”

“Never said you were.” He held up his hands. Bickering was one thing, but an actual argument would only end with them right back where they started. “Throw me a bone, here. I’m about to go out of my mind.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes since we had breakfast. You can’t possibly be that bored already.”

Maybe not, but he was having a hard time remembering why he wasn’t supposed to seduce her when Bri sat there, all comfortable and kissable. “Come on, Bri. Please.”

She sighed. “It’s a romance. You aren’t going to be interested.”

“On the contrary—there’s nothing like an intriguing romance. Is it good?”

“You’re really interested?” She looked at him over the top of her glasses. He didn’t think now was the time to tell her that her doing that sent a bolt of desire through him so strongly, he almost scrapped his resolve and closed the distance between them. No. Jumping back into having sex would accomplish even less than fighting. He gave his best sincere look. “Yep.”

“If you promise to refrain from commentary, then I will.”

“I’ll be as silent as Mr. Smith.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “He’s a wonderful listener.”

“I’ll be just as good. I promise.” God, he hoped this wasn’t one of those bodice-rippers. His buddy’s wife was into those, and James was known to bitch about them from time to time. Then again, he did it with a grin on his face, so Ryan didn’t think he minded all that much. “So what’s the setup?”

“The hero is a duke who’s trying to find the group of people who killed his little sister. The heroine grew up on the streets in his city and has had to do some pretty terrible stuff to keep herself alive. They met when she sneaked into his room to steal this pendant he has so she can pay to free her sister, who’s been taken captive by a rival group. They are just about to get married to solve both their problems.”

Well, hell. His head was already spinning. He eyed the book. She wasn’t more than a quarter of the way through—he could catch up. “Got it.”

“Okay, then. Here goes.” She took another deep breath, as if steeling herself. “Dmitri knew he couldn’t trust Savannah, knew it right down into the depths of his soul, but he was unable to walk away…”

Ryan knew exactly how this dude felt.

…

Bri got lost in the turning of the pages and the unfolding of the relationship between Dmitri and Savannah. She did a Story Time session several times a week, so it felt perfectly natural to read aloud, even if she was reading romance to Ryan and not a picture book to a group of prekindergartners.

She was so caught up in the conflict that she was two pages into a sex scene before she realized what had happened. Oh hell. She tried to ignore the flaming of her face and carefully set her bookmark between the pages and shut the book. “I think that’s enough for now.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You were just getting to the good part.” At some point, he’d stretched out over the couch, making himself at home like he was some kind of sexy cat.

Sexy cat? Obviously the book had gone to her head, because she couldn’t help but think that he’d make an excellent shifter, though he’d probably be more wolf than one of the cat family. She wished she could blame the heat pulsing between her legs and through her body on the story she’d read, but it’d be far from the truth.

It was Ryan.

He was all barely contained strength and sex appeal. She wasn’t immune by a long shot. Though, if she was perfectly honest, she hadn’t tried very hard to ignore his appeal. She shifted under his gaze, wanting to tell him to look away, but that’d mean admitting how much he affected her. “My throat hurts from talking so much.”

It was a dirty lie, but she didn’t think she could handle reading a sex scene while he sat there and watched her. Not to mention Jenny Ellis was known for her explicit language, which was fine when reading alone in the privacy of her own home, but this was hardly that.

Worse still, if she kept reading, he’d know what was happening.

He gave her a lazy grin. “Come on, Bri. I want to know how Dmitri is finally going to talk Savannah out of her panties.”

“It’s not a game for him. He cares about her.” Or he would, after they’d been sleeping together for some time and then she ran, which would make him realize exactly how much he loved her.

“Honey, I’d think he more than cares about her.” He pushed to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, making his shirt ride up to reveal a slice of tanned stomach. She was so distracted by the sight that he was nearly on top of her before she realized he’d moved.

“What are you doing?”

“Pass it over.”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting what she was afraid of? In case she was right, Bri slid sideways until she could tuck the book under a pillow. “Pass what over?”

“The book. If your throat hurts, then I’ll read the rest. It’s my turn anyway.”

If there was anything worse than reading this scene to him, it was having him read it to her. How was she supposed to focus on the story when it was his deep voice spelling out all the naughty things Dmitri was doing to Savannah?

Bri met his gaze and understood that he fully expected her to run. Her pride reared its head, demanding she hold her ground. She passed him the book. “Whatever you say.”

“Smart girl.” He winked and then strode into the kitchen.

What the heck? “What are you doing?”

Ryan gave her a look. “You said your throat hurt. Tea will help with that. Besides, it’s been a while since breakfast. I’m starving, so you have to at least be a little hungry.”

He was taking care of her? She sat there, trying to reconcile this man with the one who had pushed her buttons since the moment they met. Yes, he’d made her food and taken the dishes. Then there was the way he’d used his hand on the small of her back the night of their date, and how he’d followed her out of Avery’s party after she bolted. Not to mention the firewood and chili and letting her sleep in the bed…