Page 57 of The Secrets She Keeps

Her expression softened. Her eyes went dreamy. She smiled, so beautiful. His gut tightened. Just like that.

“More than I have ever wanted anything in the world. In my life.”

“Then lay it on me. Because I’m just as confused as you are. Maybe we can figure this out together.”

Oh,who wrote the man’s lines? He was just so perfect at everything. Powell wanted to curl up right there against him—and let him make the worldperfectfor her. Even if it was just for a little while. Then she wanted to do the same forhim.To make him see thathemattered to her. And he did.

This manmatteredto her.

Maybe that was what was so terrifying. She wasn’t good at romance. What if she seriously screwed everything up and ruined everything completely? “So what do we do next? Everything has changed, but has it? We agreed in Wyoming that it was a mistake.”

He shot her a look of such intensity that Powell’s breath caught.

“And I think maybe that was the mistake.”

“Of course, you say that now,” Powell said. The microwave dinged behind her. But she just kept her eyes on him. “Now that there is a Viking baby baking and you feel responsible?—”

And that was her fear number one. He thought she was his responsibility now—she knew how a man like him wasprogrammed. She’d grown up with three barbarians running roughshod over her forever, after all.

“I am responsible. I am the man who took your clothes off, remember? Greatly enjoyed it too.” And now those eyes were burning blue fire. An answering fire started inside her—and not from an ulcer.

“I could have told you no.” Well, yes, she could have. But the instant his hands had strayed beneath the safe territory of her sweater that night, she had been toast.

She’d wanted him to touch her.

To hold her. His arms around her had felt perfect. Beyond perfect.

That was her problem with Gunnar Erickson. The man was just tooperfectin every way. From the way he looked, to the way he talked to people, to how perfectly kindly he treated people, to the way he’d touched her.

And the last thing Powell felt was anythingbutperfect. Hadn’t she already established that to herself? Long ago?

It felt like she had to work and work and work just to keep up with the real world around her. To make lasting connections, that kind of thing. Everything had always been so easy for her brothers where people were concerned. At least for Mac and Brandt anyway.

It wasn’t easy forher.And never had been. Why would being in a relationship with this man be any different? Maybe that was why he scared her so much? She was afraid she’d work and work and work—and still screw everything up in the end? It was a real possibility.

“Whatever happened in Masterson—something I relive in my dreams frequently, no point lying about it—it doesn’t change what is happening now.”

She was not touching that comment with a ten-foot pole. The man had heat in his eyes when he stared at her now. “No. I don’t suppose it does.”

“I want to be in my kid’s life, Powell Melissa. Don’t ever doubt that for a moment. And damn it, I want to be in yours. More than anything. I want to bewithyou.”

She didn’t want to sound like a cliché, so she kept the question to herself. But how could anyone in her situation not at least think it?

Did he want that because he wantedher,or was it because of the baby tying them together?

“That’s what you doubt, isn’t it?” He stepped around the kitchen island. Powell immediately tried to go the opposite direction. Self-preservation and everything.

But, well, the man was fast. Really fast.

Probably the mile-long legs, honestly.

He had her trapped against the marble countertop in an instant. She could smell him, the slightly spicy scent ofGunnar.It had her mouth watering—and not for food.

His chest was right there, perfect and muscled and just beyond…

Perfect.

There was that word again. She almost growled.

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