“Don’t you dare.”
He grinned. “Why not?”
“Because you promised.”
“I didn’t promise a thing.”
She ordered herself to stay strong. “Have a little respect.” “For what?”
“For this—” she gestured around them, hushing her voice in reverence “—for where we are.” “We’re in my brother’s closet.” “Exactly.”
“You’ve never made love in a closet?” He was moving closer.
Of course she hadn’t. She put her palm flat against his chest to hold him off. “Have you?” “Not that I recall.”
“You’re joking, right?” How could a person not recall something like that?
“It’s a pretty roomy closet,” he pointed out, ignoring her question and making a show of testing the softness of the carpet.
“The truce is over,” she reminded him, eyeing the closet door. She was sure she could make an escape. And she was positive it was the right thing to do.
“I’m willing to renegotiate,” he told her.
“Lucas, be serious.”
“What makes you think I’m joking?”
“I’m saying no.”
He clamped his jaw. But he let his hand fall away. And he rose to his feet, holding out a hand. “Then, let’s go.”
She was glad he’d back off. She really was.
She stuck her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. He kept hold of it, tugging her out of the closet and across Konrad’s bedroom, through the open door to the hallway.
“Just so you know,” he warned her as he pulled it shut behind them, “this room will have a lock on it from now on.”
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