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chapter 12

He gets up from the table and walks toward me. I back away and meet the wall with a bump.

He stops in front of me. Even with my high heels, I’m still about ten inches shorter than him, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

He gives me a look that’s hot and sultry. “Are you trying to turn me on?” he murmurs.

I blink. “What the…?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. The word impregnate gets me all hot and bothered.”

“Jesus.”

“Say inseminate.”

“No.”

“Fertilize?”

“Hux!”

He laughs. Damn him, he’s so incredibly charismatic. “You’re not going to win this argument,” he says, amused. “I don’t care how much you stamp your feet.”

I glare at him. “I’m not stamping, not in these heels.”

For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, his gaze turns gentle, affectionate. “Look, ten years ago I did something stupid. I know that, and you were right to tell me to get lost.”

“I didn’t—”

“Let me speak. You were right, and so I convinced myself you were better off without me, and I let you
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