Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance by Jami Davenport

lot. Too much, in fact.
    “You may kiss my hand. Just a brief touch
with the lips. Don’t slobber on me like a caveman.”
    “Not a chance in hell.” He’d be damned if
he’d kiss her hand or any part of her anatomy, no matter how
tempting that anatomy might be and always had been.
    Frowning, she lowered her hand and sighed as
if he might just be the worst thing that ever happened to her.
Well, the feeling was mutual. With an elegant gesture, she pointed
toward the chair across the table. “Be seated please.”
    He lowered his big body onto the small chair
and regarded her warily. Harris had set him up. Zach knew he had.
The rat bastard would die for this. He’d wring the prick’s neck and
throw his remains to the dogfish in Puget Sound. But first he had
to get through this etiquette lesson.
    Sprawling in the chair, hands crossed over
his chest, he glared at her. She didn’t even blink. Those deep blue
eyes of hers drilled into his with a determination he couldn’t help
but admire. But then, she’d always been strong-willed.
    “Sit up straight. A gentleman doesn’t
slouch.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    “It’s bad manners. I realize you wrote the
book on reprehensible manners, but let’s see if we can remedy that,
tough a job as it might be.”
    “Since when is it bad manners?” He didn’t
get it. He hated rules for rules’ sake, especially when they didn’t
make a lick of sense.
    “It shows disinterest and a lack of respect
for the other person in the room.”
    Zach raised one eyebrow in answer. Her eyes
widened and her sigh said it all. Yes, he was an ill-mannered
moron. An ill-mannered moron who couldn’t take his eyes off her
plump lower lip. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.
    “Zach.” Kelsie’s mask of confident
superiority vanished, replaced by uncertainty and sadness. Clearing
her throat, she met his gaze, and he fought to breathe. “Before we
get started, I owe you an apology. One long past due.”
    He didn’t say a word and hardened his
expression. He wouldn’t make this easy for her.
    “I was horrible to you in high school. For
what it’s worth, I didn’t enjoy being cruel, but I was swept along
by peer pressure, but I’m not that person anymore. I am sorry.
Really sorry that I hurt you.”
    “What makes you think you hurt me?” He
glared at her, refusing to let the surprise show in his eyes.
    She blinked, once, twice. “Didn’t I?”
    Zach looked away. Hurt didn’t begin to
describe what she’d done to him, try ripped him to shreds,
shattered his ego, and laid waste to his self-worth for starters.
“Apologies are just words. If you want my forgiveness, I’ll have to
see something concrete.”
    “In other words, I’ll need to prove it to
you.”
    “Yeah.”
    She looked down at her book. “Fine.”
    Zach hated it when a woman used the word fine . It meant anything but fine. In fact, it usually meant
the targeted male had done an unfathomable thing to piss off the
female. “Let’s get back to the reason I’m forced to be here.”
    Blowing out an exasperated breath, she
picked up the book and turned all business again. “I’m giving you a
homework assignment. You’re to read Chapter 1 in this book. We’ll
discuss it when we meet again next Tuesday evening.” She pushed the
book across the table to him.
    “Are you kidding?” He didn’t bother to
glance at it.
    “I take courtesy seriously, unlike another
person I won’t name.” She raised her head and gave him that haughty
look he used to hate with a passion.
    “Go ahead and name him, won’t hurt my
feelings.”
    “The man in question should be quite aware
of his shortcomings in this area.” She pinched the bridge of her
nose as if he was giving her a headache. He added one point to his
mental scoreboard.
    “The man doesn’t give a shit.”
    Her eyes narrowed. He’d pissed her off.
“It’s obvious why they hired me. You have the graciousness of a
blind rattler.”
    “Better a blind rattler