to the magnetism that had always pulled at them.
‘Is whoever he is really your boyfriend?’ he asked, looking down into her eyes, his mouth dry and his body wound so tightly it was in danger of shattering.
Lily blinked, clearly taken aback. ‘Nick?’ she said, her breath catching and a pulse hammering at the base of her neck.
‘Yes.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Is that what this is about, Kit? Do you suddenly have a problem with me moving on or something?’
‘Possibly,’ he muttered because, as disconcerting and unexpected as it might be, he suspected he did.
And then her eyes narrowed and filled with indignation, and she pulled her shoulders back and glared up at him. ‘Well, that’s just tough because you don’t get to have a say in what I do any more. You don’t get to have an opinion. And you certainly don’t get to comment on my boyfriends.’
‘I know that,’ he said roughly, trying but failing to ignore the implication that there’d been a few.
‘Anyway, would it be so hard to believe if he was?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Good.’
‘Disappointing as hell though.’
She arched an eyebrow and tilted her head in challenge. ‘Oh, really? Why?’
The provocative stance, the energy emanating from her and the flurry of memories that were now shooting round his head killed off the last remnant of his self-control, and Kit felt himself begin to unravel.
‘Because even though I know it would be mad,’ he said, his voice hoarse with the effort of restraining himself, ‘even though I know we haven’t seen each other for five years and have enough baggage to sink a liner, I’m this close—’ he held his thumb and forefinger a centimetre apart ‘—to dragging you into my arms and hauling you off to bed. The only thing that’s stopping me is this boyfriend of yours and even he’s now beginning not to bother me. So if you have any sense of self-preservation whatsoever, if you don’t feel the same way, then I suggest you step aside and let me leave. Now.’
* * *
As the words sank into her head Lily’s mind reeled and her heart lurched. Kit wanted to take her to bed? Could she really have heard that right? Surely she must have got it wrong. Surely his proximity was having such a disturbing effect on her mind and body that she’d misheard or something because the very idea of it didn’t make any sense at all.
Kit hadn’t given any indication of wanting her earlier. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’d been cool and utterly indifferent to her. Which was entirely to be expected. They hadn’t seen each other in five years and didn’t even like each other particularly.
But no, she thought, blinking up at him in astonishment. It seemed to be that she hadn’t misheard and he really had just told her that he wanted to sleep with her. She could see it in his dark eyes, blazing down at her with barely suppressed desire, and she could feel it in his body, which was radiating heat and vibrating with tension.
And even though it could well be nothing more than a simple case of male jealousy or a misguided attempt at marking out territory or something, whatever it was, for one brief, crazy moment she wanted to throw caution to the wind, fling her arms around his neck and sink into him because it had been so long since she’d had great sex and she missed it more than she’d ever let herself admit.
But she stamped out the temptation, set her jaw and held her ground. She hadn’t spent the last five years of her life building up sky-high defences to protect herself against men who could cause her the kind of emotional turmoil he could only to have them annihilated by the very man who’d created her need for them in the first place. She’d trained herself to look forwards, not back, and Kit didn’t feature in her present, let alone her future.
She didn’t want to sleep with him anyway, she told herself firmly. She was totally over him and completely immune. In fact she rather thought she was appalled, insulted and even disgusted by his suggestion.
Especially if this was why he’d come here. Lily frowned as the possibility crossed her mind. Was it? Was he on some sort of booty call or something?
Well, if he was, she thought, her indignation firing, that was just awful. If he was, she’d have liked to be able to turn back time in order to slam the door in his face when he first pitched up on her doorstep.
‘You want to take me to bed?’ she said, her tone as scathing as she could manage, which wasn’t very because in amongst the indignation and shock was something that felt suspiciously like hurt, although what there was to be hurt about she had no idea.
‘Very badly.’
‘Why?’
‘You have to ask?’
‘Clearly,’ she said dryly. ‘Are you lonely for a little company on New Year’s Eve, Kit?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘You must be pretty desperate if you’re here.’
‘I am.’
‘So what is this? Auld lang syne and the remembering of old acquaintances or something?’
‘I don’t know what this is,’ he muttered, shoving his hands through his hair, looking as baffled as she felt. ‘I didn’t come here to sleep with you, Lily, but nevertheless I want to.’
‘Well, I don’t, so dream on, darling, because it’s never going to happen.’
He nodded. ‘Fine. Then move aside and I’ll go.’
‘Right.’
‘You aren’t moving.’
‘I’m about to.’
But she wasn’t. Because, to her horror, her feet refused to move.
A burst of panic exploded inside her and she felt a cold sweat break out all over her skin.
Why wasn’t she sending him on his way, as he’d demanded? Why wasn’t she moving aside, wrenching the door open and bundling him out? Why was she still standing here, deliberating, struggling with herself?
Struggling with herself?
Oh, no, she thought, her heart hammering. Why was what should be an easy decision a struggle? Why was she dithering? She wanted him to leave, didn’t she? She didn’t care why he was here, did she? She was over him. Wasn’t she?
Kit went very still, alert, like a panther about to pounce. ‘You still feel it too, don’t you?’
‘Feel what?’ she said, so poleaxed by the notion that she even had to question her indifference to him after such certainty for so long that for a moment she genuinely didn’t know what he meant.
‘The chemistry.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, not altogether genuine now.
‘Yes, you do.’
‘I’m over you,’ she said to convince herself more than him.
‘Are you?’
‘Totally.’
‘Then why aren’t you moving?’
‘You’re in the way.’
He took a step back, but to her alarm it didn’t make any difference to her mobility. And he knew it. She could tell by the glint in his eye, and the panic escalated to such a level that she thought the top of her head was about to blow off.
What if she wasn’t as over him as she’d thought? What if, despite all this time, despite all the lengths she’d gone to to ensure otherwise, she wasn’t over him at all?
Because if she was, she wouldn’t have to spend every anniversary drunk