Chapter 32

“Stop it.” Vivian said softly.

“But why,” Scott questioned softly, taking the glass from her unprotesting fingers and placing it on the table next to his, “Why do you say that? When you don’t really want me to stop it?’

“Yes, I do, Mr Mc—”

“Scott…” he corrected again.

“Scott” she whispered, but he must have read the lie in her eyes and on her lips.

“I don’t think so. I know it’s been tough at work—but we’re no longer at work. No one from the office is even here so we are free to do what the hell we want. You want me. We’ve been fighting it and I don’t want to fight it any more. I know what you want, honey, “

“Stop it,” she whispered again, but he took no notice, just gave a low laugh as he caught her by the waist, drawing her behind the scented seclusion of the thick, scrambling honeysuckle and into his arms.

“Say it once more—with feeling,” he whispered.

Say it? She could scarcely breathe, her senses were so full of him and the heady