He kissed like he meant it, like he wanted to savor every second of it. His tongue delved gently into her, teasing, taunting, coaxing. But it wasn’t until he moved his hips against her, the evidence of his arousal jutting into her belly, that she sagged into his chest and let him in.

“Gracie,” he moaned into her mouth. His hands slid down her back, cupping her ass and lifting her slightly. Each subtle movement of his hips shot flames through her. She was unravelling. Fast.

“Des, I think—”

“Don’t think.” It was a command, without room for negotiation.

His lips were at her cheek, her temple, her hairline. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging him so his lips came back to hers. A tremor ran through him, a tremor she’d caused.

Excitement danced like fairy lights behind her eyelids. Her world was tilting; solid ground shifted beneath her feet.

“Come home with me.” The words were whispered like a secret in her ear, an invitation to undo her laces and break down her boundaries.

“I can’t…” If she did then she would never be the same. Des would ruin her for other men. After experiencing him, her world would be gray. It was too risky. “We’re not right for each other.”

“We’re right for now.”

It was enough to push reason to the forefront of Gracie’s mind. She didn’t do “now”, she did “long term” and Des Chapman was not a long-term choice.

“I’m sorry, Des. I’m not anyone’s one-night stand.” She straightened her shoulders and took a step back. “Not even yours.”

Chapter Four

It had been two weeks since her world had been flipped around. Two weeks since she’d kissed Des and thought of nothing else. It was true, she didn’t do one-night stands, but the possibility that Des might stick around longer than an evening of pleasure tugged at the frayed edges of her mind.

What if?

It was useless, but she couldn’t shake the sense of loss that followed after she’d abandoned him at the market. Gracie wasn’t interested in seeing anyone else…not anymore. She’d turned down a guy from her work—who was gorgeous, smart, and an executive—simply because there wasn’t the same fizz of attraction that Des ignited within her. She’d ignored messages on her online dating profile and even declined an invitation to drinks by a hunky acquaintance.

Des had ruined her, as she’d predicted, and that was before she got anything more than a kiss.

“Gracelyn, what on earth is wrong with you?” Her mother’s voice snapped Gracie’s attention to the present. “You’re so vague, it’s positively off-putting.”

“Sorry, Mother,” she murmured, spearing another piece of roast beef with her fork. Her appetite had been a non-existent concept of late, to the point that her work pants hung from her hips a little too loosely.

Why would she eat when the color had been sucked from her life?

“Just as well. To anyone else it might seem that you would rather be elsewhere than spending time with your family.”

Her mother’s formidable tone was perfected to strike fear into the hearts of either Greene daughter. She spoke with an edge sharp enough to carve ice and it was the subtext that mattered most; Gracie was on the verge of causing her mother to go on a tirade…and no one wanted that.

Under the table, she received a swift kick to the ankle. Gracie looked up to the meet a not-so-subtle stare from Emmaline.

“This roast is fantastic, Cecilia.” Conrad reached out and patted his mother-in-law’s hand. “Really top notch.”

Pass me a bucket.

“Thank you, Conrad. It’s nice that someone appreciates family meals.” Cecilia surveyed the table, set in the finest of cream linens and porcelain crockery, her eyes narrowing at each of her daughters in turn.

Conrad puffed out his chest and Gracie rolled her eyes. He was like a puppy doing anything he could to get a pat on the head. His saccharine smile grated on her nerves. But she kept her mouth shut. After all, Conrad was Emmaline’s husband and Gracie loved her sister more than anything…despite her poor taste in men.

She’d chosen a perfectly bland optometrist with a perfectly bland mansion in Toorak. Together, they lived in beige-colored society bliss, much to Cecilia’s satisfaction.

“Now, Gracelyn, you remember Mrs. Richardson, don’t you? She’s informed me that her son is back from a stint in Hong Kong. I’ve passed on your mobile number so she can set up a time for you two to meet.”

She remembered Mrs. Richardson all right. The woman had a mean disposition and a Chihuahua trained to attack anyone who got within a foot of its owner. Unsurprisingly, the only person the Chihuahua didn’t attack was Gracie’s mother, most likely because they were kindred spirits. She also remembered Mrs. Richardson’s son and she’d pick the Chihuahua as preferred company any day.

“Mother, as much as I’m grateful for your…help… I don’t think Mrs. Richardson’s son is right for me.” She chewed on her beef pretending to give the idea some serious consideration. “I would hate to waste their time.”

“Why are you so insistent on being single, Gracelyn? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“I’m not insistent on being single, but I don’t want to date someone when I know it’s not going to work out.”

Wasn’t that the exact reason she was avoiding Des?

There was no way she could put him through the torture of the weekly Greene Family Luncheon. There was no way she could force him to endure a lifetime of her mother’s judgement. And her mother would judge him. He didn’t deserve that.

Gracie also didn’t deserve to be dumped because of it…again.

“How do you know it’s not going to work out? He’s an investment banker, you know. He has a good job.”

“So?”

Another kick under the table from Emmaline. Arguing with her mother was a fruitless endeavor, but Gracie was too miserable and too frustrated to put up with the constant attacks. She was sick of playing nice and doing what her mother wanted.

“Henry Richardson is a bore,” Gracie continued. “I’m not interested in dating him.”

Silence descended over the Greene family. Knives and forks hovered mid-air, breaths were held in. Cecilia lowered her cutlery slowly and patted her cement-like coiffed ice-blond hair. Gracie bit back a smile. It was the smallest of rebellions but she needed it. It made her feel like she wasn’t her family’s doormat.

“You can’t spend your whole life flitting about without responsibility. By the time you’re ready to settle down no man will be interested in you.” Cecilia tilted her chin, daring Gracie to argue otherwise.

“This is ridiculous. I pay my bills and my mortgage, I contribute to society. I am not flitting about.” She sighed, forcing down the anger bubbling in her stomach like toxic lava. “We’re not living in the dark ages anymore. I’m not going to date someone because you think he’s a suitable option.”

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” Cecilia muttered, reaching for her wine. “She’s far more sensible.”

“Mother, that’s not fair—” Emmaline protested.

“Don’t get involved, Em.” Conrad cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder as if to silence her. His cold stare unsettled Gracie. She never could understand how her sister had married such an asshole. “Let Gracelyn dig her own hole.”

Gracie closed her eyes and willed the thumping in her head to go away. Her family was seriously dysfunctional, and without her father to balance out her mother’s controlling ways, Gracie was more disconnected from them than ever.

She missed him so much. Shutting her eyes, Gracie willed the tears away. Her promise to her father swirled in her mind, warring with her feelings for Des.

“Gracie, why don’t you give me a hand with the dessert?” Emmaline pushed up from her seat and gathered the empty plates closest to her, motioning for Gracie to follow. In the kitchen, Emmaline put the dishes by the sink and placed her hands on Gracie’s shoulders. “Deep breath, honey. She doesn’t mean to be cruel.”