He rose from the bed of leaves. Walking to the fire, he sat on his haunches and poked at the dying ashes with a stick. Last night he’d wanted to make love to her, and if she’d encouraged him at all, he would have. But Ellie was right. Caring about her would only complicate an already complicated situation. He didn’t want to make a lifetime commitment to another woman. Yes, there were times he was lonely, but he didn’t want to fail again. In disgust at how close he’d come to losing his self-control, he tossed away the stick. He ran his hand repeatedly through his hair while he stared at Ellie, still sleeping. He still wanted her. This never happened to him, not since Laura’s betrayal. He made it a point not to need anyone beyond a casual relationship, or he might lose control of the situation. That threat had always hung in the air as a warning. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t let that happen to him ever again, and keeping his emotional distance from women had made it easy for him in the past.
