All Grown Up Read Online Free

why she couldn’t.
    She was weak when it came to Sam Ely. Weak and dreadfully predictable. So he was handsome, so what? The fact that he was sexy and Southern and so damned funny and smart shouldn’t be an issue.
    Any notion she’d ever had of snagging Sam had disappeared when she’d embarrassed herself with a youthful, impassioned declaration that was ill-timed to say the least. Sam might pretend he’d only been letting her down easy, but she had a hunch that in their charged encounter way back then, he had been speaking the truth.
    Sam’s perfect woman was not Annalise. Not by a long shot.
    With a strangled mutter of protest, she eluded his embrace, picked up two small bags and headed toward the kitchen. Refusing to look at him, she raised her voice as she walked away. “I’d like another cup of coffee, and then I’d appreciate it if you would show me my room.”
    * * *
    Sam grabbed up most of the rest of the bags and followed her, grinding his teeth in frustration. He’d apologized, damn it. What more could he do? He wasn’t about to crawl. Especially since he hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he ought to get a medal for doing the right thing. Annalise was one of the most sensual, beautiful women he had ever known. If he’d been a different kind of man—or not suitably intimidated by his father and hers—he would have said to hell with it and taken her up on her offer.
    He’d certainly thought about it often enough over the years. But he’d been raised to adhere to a gentlemanly code of conduct, and that code precluded a thirty-year-old man from having sex with one not-quite-mature college graduate who’d been sheltered more than most.
    He wasn’t the bad guy in this scenario. So why did he get the distinct impression that Annalise Wolff would like to consign him to the devil?
    Striding through the kitchen and into the hallway beyond, he tried to avoid looking at her. The scent of her perfume, something light and beguiling, mingled with the smell of coffee.
    The bedroom that had been prepared for Annalise was as cold as ice. He rolled his eyes in disgust and opened all the vents. Evidently the housekeeping service his grandmother utilized had missed a few key points about dates.
    Annalise startled him when she appeared at his side, her arms wrapped around her waist protectively. “It’s like a meat locker in here,” she said. “Are you sure the heat’s working at all?”
    He hefted her large suitcase onto a large cedar-lined chest at the foot of the bed. “For now? Yes. But I’ll kick the thermostat up a few notches to be sure. It wouldn’t kill you to put on a sweater.”
    “The cold doesn’t seem to be bothering you.”
    “I have a fast metabolism. And quite a few more pounds of insulation than you do.” He paused, uncharacteristically uncertain. Of himself. Of her. “Last chance,” he said. “If we leave now, I think we can still make it back to town.”
    Annalise stared at him, eyes wide. “I’ve cleared my calendar,” she said quietly. “This project deserves my full attention. Even with bad weather, there is a lot I can do to keep the ball rolling. Measuring and sketching alone will keep me occupied for several days. But I understand if you need to go back to Charlottesville.”
    He couldn’t read her expression. Weak late-afternoon light, muted by the snow, filtered in through lace sheers, casting dappled shadows on the hardwood floor. “I can’t leave you here alone,” he said, not really wanting to. “Anything could happen.”
    She shrugged, glimmers of something disturbing in her eyes. “I’m more resilient than you think. You’re not responsible for me.”
    He allowed himself to touch her briefly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I promised Gram I’d get you started. There’s a lot of info I need to share. So I guess we’re staying.”
    He was shocked that she allowed the fleeting touch without protest. A tiny smile kicked up one corner of her