“Whoa, now, Libs. Hate? That’s a strong word.”
“So is restraining order. Now are you finished?” She spun away and reached for the doorknob. “Because if you’re done making a fool out of yourself, I’m going back to work.”
Guilt left a bad taste in his mouth. As the woman he once loved to distraction, she deserved better than childishness from him. They were stuck in this less-than-ideal situation together, so why make it more difficult by being a jerk? The end of their relationship hadn’t been her fault—that was 100 percent on his shoulders. And he was okay with that. Mostly.
He caught her hand. “Libs, wait.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Fine. Libby.”
“Assistant District Attorney Pruitt to you.”
His jaw tightened against the barb in her tone. Her coldness toward him shouldn’t hurt. He deserved it and more. But, dammit, it did hurt. “All right, A.D.A. Pruitt, can we start over here?”
Her ponytail flopped as she shook her head. “Not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re…you.”
Another barb, and it cut deeper than the first. “The fuck up.”
“Yes. No.” Sighing, Libby rubbed her eyes under her glasses with the fingers of one hand. “Jude, I’m not the girl I was eight years ago, okay?” Finally realizing he still held her other hand, she shook off his grip and reached for the door handle. “And I don’t want any kind of relationship with you ever again.”
Ouch.
No, he thought and touched the ring in his pocket to anchor himself, not ouch. This had been his goal when he hurt her—but that was supposed to have been all there was to it. Hurt her, move on with his miserable life without her, the end. He never would have guessed the whole nightmare of a situation would come back to bite him in the ass now.
Hand still on the doorknob, Libby stared at him over her shoulder as if she expected some kind of response to her declaration.
“Well,” he said finally, “that’s unfortunate, since your father hired me to be your bodyguard-slash-pretend-boyfriend.”
Did she just go pale? Maybe it was the harsh lighting in the conference room, but it sure looked like her complexion had lost a few shades of color when she spun back to face him. And, damn, there was that surge of guilt again. Even so, he couldn’t tell her any of the whys because the truth would be much more painful than anything he’d done to her.
“W-what about the Marines?” she asked.
“Officially out a month ago.”
“Oh.”
“And seeing as we now have to convince everyone I’m your main man,” he added after a beat of silence, “we need to learn to play nice with each other.”
“Oh,” she said again, apparently at a loss for words.
Another beat, longer this time.
“So,” he prompted. “Can we start over?”
Libby chewed on her lower lip, naturally drawing his gaze to her mouth. Christ, the dreams he’d had about that mouth… He could still taste her, too, from his earlier attempt at playing his part, which didn’t help dull the throb of need behind his fly. He remembered exactly how good it was between them and wanted that mouth on his again. And on other, lower portions of his anatomy.
“Meet me in the parking lot after work,” she said finally, interrupting a particularly X-rated fantasy that had to do with her lipstick and his cock. “Jude, hello, did you hear me?”
“Er, right.” He shook himself. “Parking lot. Gotcha.”
“Five. Don’t be late. I need to get home.”
“Sure. See ya around.” He gave a dorky half wave as she shook her head and opened the door. Cursing at himself, he stood in the empty conference room and shut his eyes.
See ya around?
Shit, maybe he was mentally stuck in the fifth grade. Where was his head?
Okay, dumb question. As soon as he’d seen Libby again, his brain had migrated south. She just looked so good, all curvy and womanly, and the fire in her eyes every time she looked at him…
Damn.
She’d always been fierce, but as a young college co-ed, she’d kept it carefully leashed and hidden behind a sweet exterior. At least until they hit the sack, and then she’d rock not only his world, but his whole freaking solar system. Adult Libby—now she was something else. She all but crackled with passion. Made a guy wonder…
And fantasize…
And lust…
Oh, man. He needed an ice bath, a-sap.
Chapter Three
“You’re still here?” Libby stopped short in surprise when she exited her office to find Jude camped out on the floor beside her door, his long, jean-clad legs outstretched, his head tilted back against the tiled wall. His eyes were closed until she spoke, but he hadn’t been sleeping. He thrummed with suppressed energy.
“Where else would I go?” he asked.
“How about away?”