"Come in," Lance said.
With her heart racing, Tara pushed the door open and slowly walked in.
But when Lance looked up and locked eyes with her, he didn't seem like he was going to make a move.
Her palms started to sweat. She quickly set the iced Frosticano down next to his hand.
"Mr. Swain, your iced Frosticano."
Tara turned to leave with the tray. But after only a few steps, Lance's arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her into his chest.
He leaned in close to her ear, his voice rough. "You're finally willing to come in?"
Tara pretended that his breath on her ear didn't set her skin alight.
"Mr. Swain…"
Lance tightened his arms around her and carried her into the bedroom. By the time Tara realized what was happening and tried to resist, he had already crossed the room and shut the door behind them.
He set her down, but she found herself pinned against the door by him.
He lightly traced her cheek with his left hand, his voice a gentle murmur in her ear. "When I was drunk that day, was it you that I had pinned?"
His question sent Tara's mind reeling back to her first two days in this world.
She nodded and looked up at him with some surprise. "You remember?"
Wasn't he drunk?
Lance brushed his lips against her cheek. "I only remember a little. Why didn't you tell me?"
Tara didn't think it was worth mentioning. "It was just an accident. There's nothing to say."
Lance lowered his eyes and kissed her as he spoke.
He said, "I'm sorry."
The apology came out low and husky, sounding more seductive than remorseful, but some of his emotions still came through.
Lance kissed her again. With the curtains drawn, the room was filled with the sound of his kisses.
He looked at her with hooded eyes and asked hoarsely, "Can I?"
Tara's mind was already a mess. When he asked the question, it took her a moment to realize what he meant.
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