Page 26 of Second Draft

And sweet.

And so freaking off limits.

He tosses the towel in the sink, then looks up at me, one palm out. After a few seconds, one eyebrow goes up. “The Band-Aid.”

“Right.” Crap. I hand it to him, watching as he takes the wrapper off, then gently places it on my heel.

His fingers linger on my ankle, his gaze once again on my legs.

“All better.” As light as his words are, his expression is just as dark.

“Thank you.” I swallow past the lump in the back of my throat.

He nods, then his hands go around my waist again, lifting me, then slowly sliding me down his body until my feet hit the floor.

There’s no hiding the huge erection he’s sporting, or the fact that it’s digging into my belly now.

I lick my lips and look up at him, lust warring with fear.

“Go to bed Layla,” his voice is a deep, barely contained growl.

A warning.

He takes a small step back, but from his expression, I can see it takes all his strength to do it.

I do the only sensible thing I can think of. I turn and walk away from the hulking temptation, knowing I’m going to need to keep a lot more distance between us if I’m going to survive him being here much longer.

Chapter 9

Carter

I try to give Layla space, which isn’t hard, because I realize pretty quickly that she’s juggling two jobs, as well as volunteering a few hours each week at the local Animal Shelter.

That, and she’s avoiding me.

She’s going through a lot. I get it. Which is why I’m not pushing things. At least not yet.

Sitting on the living room couch, I rub the back of my neck and read through the piece I’m currently working on, scratching out the last line that I wrote.

The whole article is shit. Mostly because I can’t focus. The only thing I can think about is Layla, and how I’m going to play this.

Slow and steady. It’s not my typical speed, but I’m going to have to be patient. There’s more at stake than just getting her in my bed – which will happen.

But what I really want is her trust, and eventually her heart.

Two things that I can tell she keeps safely guarded.

Three days I’ve been here and I still know barely anything about her. What I do know is that she’s got her walls up, and it’s going to take a fucking militia to tear them down.

I crumple the paper I’m working on and toss it on the coffee table beside my laptop.

Work is on me, pressuring me to come back to New York. I’ve used the family emergency excuse, but I have to leave soon.

The creak of footsteps on the stairs has my gaze jerking up.

Wearing black pants that hug her curvy hips, and a loose fitting blouse that’s buttoned up to her neck, Layla strides into the room, a look of determination tightening her features.

My sexy librarian.

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