Deep down, she knew that she’d never have that with anyone else.

But being with Des would mean putting them both through hell with her family, not to mention that she’d have to live with the guilt of failing her father. No matter how much she wanted to explore their connection, she couldn’t put him through that.

She couldn’t risk giving in, only to lose him when it all got too hard.

To protect them both she had but one option—end it now.

Des had hoped for many things upon waking after spending an incredible night with Gracie. He’d hoped she was willing to climb on top of him for the promise of continued pleasure, despite the fact they’d woken up in the middle of the night for round number two. He’d hoped that she’d be up for breakfast and the strongest cup of coffee he could make. At the very least, he’d hoped that she’d be happy to laze about in bed for a while before they faced the real world.

Yet as the sunlight streamed in through wooden blinds, and his eyes adjusted to the pale morning light, what he got was something else entirely.

Gracie was fastening her bra while searching for her underwear. Her hair stuck out in all directions, the curls tangled and wild like a halo around her face. Mascara had smudged under her eyes, giving her a sexy dishevelled look. But it was the wide-eyed, fearful expression on her face that caused Des’s blood to run cold.

“Looking for these?” he asked, plucking her lacy underwear from where they draped over the railing at the end of the bed.

“Uh, yeah.” She took them from him, her eyes averted. “Thanks.”

“Something wrong?” He threw the covers back and got out of bed. He didn’t miss the way her lips parted when she caught his naked frame in her gaze.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” She wriggled her hips as she pulled the cream scrap of lace up over her thighs. “I…uh, have to get going.”

“So soon?”

“Duty calls.” She folded her arms across her chest, her breasts pushing up and looking more delectable than ever.

His cock stirred again. He took a step towards her, wanting to stroke that smooth skin of hers until she melted against him. Instead, she found his boxer briefs on the floor and handed them to him, a silent request for him to keep his distance.

“Gracie, it’s Sunday.” He pulled the briefs on but made no move to get dressed further. “You don’t work weekends.”

“But you do…don’t you?”

“I’m not on ’til the evening. The restaurant is covered for the brunch shift.” He sighed. “I do have some sort of a life, you know.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Yes, well I should still be going anyway.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. They were cold, fine-boned. “I thought you had a good time last night.”

“I did.” Her eyes fluttered up, her dark lashes framing them perfectly. In the course of their intimate night together he’d learned that her eyes were not a mere brown but a mixture of golds, reds, and chocolate shades. Brown was far too boring an adjective for someone like Gracie.

“Then why are you so eager to run away? If I hadn’t woken then would you have said goodbye?”

“We had our night, Des.” She tugged her hands away from him. “That’s all it was. One night.”

Part of him had known that’s all he was going to get from her, but the words still stung. Disappointment pounded in his chest, the ache of reality spreading through him, slow and steady.

“What if I want more?”

“You can’t have more,” she said. She shook her head, her hands fiddling with the strap of her bra. “I can’t have more, either. That’s not how it works.”

“I don’t understand. We’re two adults who like each other and we had an incredible night together.” He frowned. “Unless you’re going to tell me I’m wrong?”

“No, it was incredible. It was thrilling and amazing and the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Then what’s with the runaway act?”

“That’s exactly the point, Des. It was good sex—no, it was great sex—but that doesn’t mean it’s anything more. It doesn’t mean we can sustain things for longer than a night.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one who was worried about being a one-night stand, and now you’re telling me that’s all this is?” He raked a hand through his hair, his temple throbbing like a drumbeat.

“You said we were right for now.” She turned, obscuring the panic in her eyes, and hurried towards his bedroom door.

Following, Des threw his hands up in frustration. “‘For now’ doesn’t mean one night only. It means we’ll see where it goes.”

“I know where it goes, Des.” She stalked into the living room and found her shirt and jeans where they had landed on the floor the night before. “I’ve been down that road before.”

“Enlighten me, Gracie.”

He watched as she fumbled with the zipper on her jeans, her hands shaking as she hurried. “It ends with us discovering that we’re not right for each other, except instead of having the memories of one great night we have a world of pain and anger and resentment to get through.”

“Why aren’t we right for each other?”

Déjà vu swirled to life in Des’s mind. He’d been here before—he’d had this conversation before, except he’d been the one running away, and it had ended with a diamond ring being thrown at him. His grandmother’s diamond ring, the one he’d been so sure would be on the hand of the woman he loved forever. They hadn’t even made it down the aisle.

Memories of the last time he saw his ex-fiancée flickered before his eyes. Her Queen’s Counsel father hated the fact that his daughter was engaged to a blue-collar boy whose mother spoke broken English. Des had been the one to call it quits in the end because he couldn’t put up with the constant criticism.

Haven’t you learned anything? Listen to her, she’s right. This is a disaster waiting to happen. You had great sex, now move on.

“We’re too different,” she said. “Our lives are too different.”

“Why? Because I work with my hands and you work with your head?”

“It’s more than that.”

“Tell me what it is.” It would have been better if he’d let her go, but he had to hear it. He wanted to torture himself with her words, wanted the sharp slice of her judgement to cut into him, to teach him a lesson.

Maybe then it would be easier to be without her.

“Well…” She chewed on her lip and smoothed a hand over her hair, unable to tame it into shape. “You’re at First til all hours and I’m always up early. We’d never see each other. We’d never spend time together.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“We don’t have anything in common.”

“Not true. We both enjoy food and wine. You’re starting to enjoy dancing.”

Her lips pulled into a ghost of a smile. “We’re from different worlds.”

And there it was, the truth.

“My family is so uptight, so traditional. They’re stuck on these stupid ideas about how I should live my life.” She twisted a strand of hair in her fingers. “I’ve already lost someone I cared about because I tried to ignore our differences. It doesn’t work.”

“You’re worried they’ll think I’m not good enough for you.”

The realization that Gracie held exactly the same prejudice as his ex made his blood boil. He’d known it deep down, but to hear it out loud was another thing entirely. He was good enough and he certainly wasn’t going to settle for someone who didn’t see that.

She didn’t have to respond. The flame in her cheeks and the shame that pulled her eyes to the floor was enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Des.” She spoke his name as though it were a sigh, a question, an apology.

“What, Gracie?” His voice was more solid than his thoughts, thankfully.

“I’m sorry.”

“Really?” He folded his arms, too, mostly so they wouldn’t act of their own accord.

She bit her lip. There were no fancy words, none of the snappy banter that he’d come to expect from her. “Yes.”