Synthia woke up with Tristan’s hand over her heart. For several long moments she just let herself enjoy being in his arms. As if maybe in an alternative universe she could just wake up like this and everything would be okay. And she could be happy and not have to do everything alone.
Tristan kissed her shoulder. “I don’t want to wake up. Let’s stay here and pretend we don’t have to go back.” Playing with a lock of her hair, he added, “I’m going to miss the Vegas cocoon.”
Thread by thread the fantasy began to unravel. Icy dread mixed with frosty admonishment crawled up her spine. Vegas cocoon. You knew better than to get attached to him. She’d known this was temporary, but over the past couple of days she’d thought—well, never mind what she thought. “I need to start getting ready,” she murmured. This was Tristan and this was a fling. Outside of this, they didn’t work. They were too different. This only worked now because it was in a suspended reality.
She shifted, but he only held her tighter. “No,” he whispered. “Not yet.” The unspoken words between them hung in the air.
Her heart squeezed. She’d let herself get too close. “Tristan...” She let her voice trail.
He nuzzled her neck. “Yeah, Syn?”
“You sure do hold on tight, don’t you?”
He kissed her neck and he loosened his grip a little. “Didn’t mean to crush you.”
Syn smirked. “If this was the old Tristan, I’m not sure I would believe you.”
“Mostly I just wanted to touch you.” His voice was soft, almost inaudible.
Deep emotion curled around her heart. He’d never told her that before. She wanted to believe him because, she realized, she never wanted to leave. She wanted to be in his arms. Wanted to believe that they could work. Don’t believe the hype, Syn. In bed, they were fantastic. But outside bed, it wouldn’t be possible. They were too different, and believing in that fairy tale could cost her this project.
Never mind the warmth she felt in her heart when she was with him. She wasn’t going to let him hurt her. She couldn’t. It was time to take this experience and lock it into a deep box far away. She wasn’t going to let this affect her. Vegas cocoon. She wasn’t going to let him hurt her.
Syn rolled over and kissed him softly on the lips. “I think it’s time to return to the real world now.”
His gaze searched hers. He frowned but whispered softly, “Okay.”
* * *
This was a mistake. Had been a mistake. He’d been a fool to think this thing with him and Syn would be some casual get-each-other-out-of-their-systems fling. Now it was Monday morning and she’d slid out of bed an hour ago.
And just like that, they were back to normal. As if this had never happened. As if he’d never gotten to see this side of her. She was once again the enemy. Well, he hoped not. Even if this situation was merely temporary, he didn’t want to be on the attack with her. They had to find a way to coexist, didn’t they?
After a cold shower designed to wake his brain up and to cool his libido, he’d dressed quickly and gone looking for Syn. Her usual pencil skirt and blouse combo were back. Paired with some do-me pumps that he hadn’t seen before. Gone was the loose, flowing hair he’d seen since Friday. The characteristic bun was back in place. And the sweet, sexy makeup was gone. Instead she’d gone back to her usual red lips and a cool attitude. “Any chance there’s coffee?” Oh, great, that was the best you could offer.
She whirled to meet his gaze. Her expression was all soft parted lips and surprised wide eyes, as if she hadn’t expected him to be awake so early. He hadn’t had much choice. Once she was out of bed, he hadn’t been able to sleep.
“Good morning. Yeah, um, there’s some coffee. Room service brought it up a few minutes ago.”
Her tone was cordial but distant. His Syn was gone. “Thanks,” he muttered.
She shifted in those killer heels of hers. “I wasn’t sure if we were heading over to the airport together or not. If you’d rather go separately, I can—”
He ground his teeth together and shook his head. “No, together is fine. I’ll grab a to-go cup and we can head out now.”
“No rush. The valet already came to collect our bags.”
Hell. This was almost worse than the dreaded eggshells he’d been hoping to avoid and the battling war gods they’d once been. “For heaven’s sake, Syn, can we talk about this?”
She rolled her shoulders. “Sorry. I know this is awkward. I clearly didn’t think this out. I have no idea how to act around you now.”
Tristan sighed. “Okay, how about we act normally?”
“Well, have you forgotten that normal for us includes shouting and eye sex?”
His dick twitched. Down, boy. “Okay, normal but without the shouting. I don’t want this to be weird and awkward. Maybe we could even try being friends.”
She relaxed her shoulders. “Friends...you say that like it’s easy. We couldn’t manage friends before and now you think that we’ve seen each other naked, it’ll be any easier?”
She did have a point there. “Not exactly, but this overpolite shit is going to kill me. Not to mention it’s a dead giveaway.”
Her eyebrows snapped down. “Pardon me for not knowing the etiquette. This was your idea, remember?”
Tristan sighed. “Yeah, I know, I just—”
There was a knock at the door. Synthia inhaled. “Looks like our car is here.”
Synthia’s stride was as brisk and direct as always and the pencil skirt hugged her ass just right, giving him a spectacular view. He didn’t want it to end like this. Once in the elevator, he turned to her. “Syn, are you okay?”
Her gaze was flat, without any of the fire of before Vegas and missing the heat of the past few days. “Fine. This was the agreement, right? We go back to normal, whatever that is, now. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “Look at me.”
She didn’t comply. Instead she kept her eyes glued to the lit floor numbers. The elevator slowed and dinged and the doors opened. Immediately Tristan assumed proper elevator positioning, sliding around next to her and looking straight ahead. Like her, he also held on to the back rail for support. As people filed in they were pressed closer and closer together, their fingertips nearly touching. That span of an inch separating his index finger from hers might as well have been the Grand Canyon. The tension twirled around them, thickening and swirling. On the first-floor pool deck everyone filed out, leaving the two of them alone. Tristan stared down at their fingertips. She met his gaze. Her almond-shaped dark eyes blinking up at him. The decision was already made for him. If this was the way they were going to be with each other, he wanted one more taste before he had to let her go.
When he wound his arms around her waist, her eyes rounded in shock. “Tristan—”
He didn’t let her finish the thought; instead he kissed her. The spark that flared between them flickered and his blood rushed. Her response was instant. She groaned and slid her hands into his hair. Her tongue glided against his and he shuddered.
Tristan pulled the pin out of her hair, moaning as her heavy tresses fell over his fingertips. Synthia melded her body to his, arching into his caress.
When the elevator dinged again, she staggered back. He reached for her, but she stepped just out of range. Her chin tilted up and just like that, the mask was back. When she stalked out at the next floor, he didn’t stop her.