Page 25 of Impossible Love

I tip my head and try to look bored. “Whatever.”

Cal narrows his eyes and snarls. He’s furious. Intimidating. Big. And though I’m not scared for my personal safety, the intensity of his emotion and his sheer physical power makes me step back in self-preservation.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a man,” he growls. “I’ve destroyed men who’ve caused half the damage you’re attempting. My brothers and I moved back to the ranch to help my dad. We saved the ranch, saved our family home. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I roll my eyes. “Listen, no offense, but I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve had this conversation with a family member—always a man, by the way—who’s sure he has the skills and resources to save the family business. Never works.”

“You’ve got it wrong, lady.” He steps closer. He’s now just a few inches away. I feel the heat coming off him in waves. “This isn’t a strip mall or a mom-and-pop construction company you’re trying to steal. This is sacred land. MacLaine land. And only fools threaten the MacLaines.”

“Oh, please.”

“If you fuck with us, you will regret it. We’re a band of brothers. A family of warriors. The instant you prepare to take your first shot, you’ve already lost. You got me?”

I have one or two snarky comebacks ready to go, but my vocal cords have closed up. My legs are frozen in place again.

He’s too close to me. I can smell the pheromones popping off him. I can feel the passion pulse from his skin. He’s staring down at me from a foot above. His massive frame dwarfs mine. I was once self-confident, submissive to no one.

Apparently, my rules have changed.

We both know this isn’t about business. The jockeying for power isn’t just to gain the upper hand in the cat-and-mouse world of private equity acquisitions. Cal’s plenty angry, but there’s something more happening with him. It’s happening with me too.

I know it’s crazy. I know it’s impossible. But we’re dealing with a sexual attraction as wild as a force of nature, an animal that can’t be caged.

He wants me. And I want him.

And we’re hiding that truth in the language of business, with warnings and threats and promises of regret. Oh, he’s pissed off. No doubt about it. He’s so pissed off that he hisses at me through gritted teeth. He flashes his eyes at me.

He’s angry because he doesn’t want to want me. Hey, join the club.

So what’s stopping us?

Two bath towels.

Two separate objectives.

Two different worlds.

We stand that way, frozen, face-to-face, our bodies almost touching, for what seems like an eternity. I don’t feel time progress. I don’t feel the deck under my feet. The only thing I’m sure of is that whatever we decide to do next will change the future for both of us, forever.

The problem is, we’re enemies.

Cal closes his eyes briefly, then opens them again. When he looks at me, the anger is gone. It’s replaced by remorse. It’s clear he’s come to the same conclusion I have. He gives his head a barely perceptible shake, steps around me, and goes into the house.

Only after hearing the door close am I able to let go of the breath I’m holding. I don’t really know what just happened, but there’s an understanding between us now. And though we didn’t act on it—and I plan to fight it with everything in me—I have this sinking feeling that my life is irrevocably changed.

I go back into the house through the main door. My phone sits in the middle of the dark table, the fairy lights glinting off the metal. Right next to it is the leftover wine from dinner. I grab it. No need for a glass. I return to my room with my goodies, checking my messages while drinking straight from the bottle. This is a rare vintage, intended to be savored, not chugged. Oh well. Shit happens.

I take off my towel and slip between the bedsheets, dropping my head to the pillow. I feel sad. Raw. Feverish. I can’t sleep knowing that Cal’s in the house. All of Cal. All of his perfection.

And I’m not just talking about his body, which is enough perfection to keep any woman occupied for the rest of her days. I mean the whole package. The whole man. Who he is.

A perfectly hot-headed, stubborn, super-alpha man of principle.

How am I supposed to resist that?

Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t even try. I’d shamelessly throw myself into his arms while asking the universe how I got so lucky. But these are not “other” circumstances. All I’ve got is reality.

And I’ve only known him for a day.

---