as I enjoyed that kiss, I have a rule about not mixing business with pleasure.’
She blinked those big blue eyes up at him and he could tell she didn’t get it. ‘I don’t sleep with my PA. Whatever I do tonight, a touch, a caress, a kiss, it’s all just part of an act. You’re perfectly safe with me. All right?’
And something—he’d expected relief, but it wasn’t quite that—flashed across her eyes and was gone. ‘Of course,’ she said, and fled into to powder room.
There. He’d said it. He blew out a breath as he picked up the leftover ring from the coffee table, snapped the box shut and returned it to the safe. Maybe it was, as he had said, to put her at her ease, but there’d also been a measure of wanting to remind himself of his golden rule. Because it had been hard enough to remember which way was up, let alone anything else in the midst of that kiss.
He hadn’t intended it to go so far. He’d meant to tease her into submission, give her just a little taste for more, so she’d be more malleable and receptive to his touch, but she’d sighed into his mouth and turned molten and turned him incendiary with it.
And if he hadn’t frightened her away by the strength of his reaction, he’d damned near frightened himself. He’d had to leave the room before she could see how affected he was, and before he looked into her ocean-deep eyes and decided to finish what he’d started.
He ached to finish what he’d started.
Why did he have that rule about not sleeping with his PAs? What had he been thinking? Surely this was a matter that should be decided on a case-by-case basis.
And then he remembered Inge of the ice-cool demeanour and red hot bedroom athletics and how she’d so neatly tried to demand a chunk of ice for her finger by nailing him with her alleged pregnancy.
There was good reason for his self-imposed rule, he reluctantly acknowledged. Damn good reason.
If only he could make himself believe it.
She didn’t recognise herself in the powder-room mirror. Even after repairing her make-up and smoothing the stray wisps of her hair back into its sleek coil, she still looked like a stranger. No amount of lipstick could disguise the flush to her swollen lips. And while the ring on her finger sparkled under the light, it was no match for the lights in her eyes.
Not when all she could do was remember that kiss, and how he had damn near wrenched out her mind if not her soul with it.
It was wrong to feel excited, even though its impact had so closely mirrored that of the first. But he’d simply been making a point. He’d been acting. He’d said as much himself. It had meant nothing. Or else why could he so easily have turned and walked away?
Yet still she trembled at the memory of his lips on hers. Still she trembled when she thought of how he’d felt, pressing hard and insistent against her belly, stirring secret places until they blossomed and ached with want.
Want that would go unsatisfied. Cheated again. Just an act
. ‘I don’t sleep with my PA.’
And part of her had longed to laugh and tell him that he’d had his chance, years ago, and blown it then. Another part had wanted to slump with relief. While the greater part of her had wanted to protest at the unfairness of it all.
Damn. She’d known this would be difficult. She’d known that seeing him again would rekindle all thosefeelings she had been unable to bury, unable to dim, even with the passage of time.
She dragged air into her lungs, breathed out slowly and resolutely angled her chin higher as she made one final check on her appearance. For surely the worst was over. And at least she knew where she stood. She may as well try to enjoy the rare evening out.
How hard could it be?
‘Remember,’ Leo said, as they made their way to the presidential suite, ‘keep it light and friendly and whatever you do, avoid any talk of family.’
Suits me
, she thought, knowing Leo would be less than impressed if she started telling
She blinked those big blue eyes up at him and he could tell she didn’t get it. ‘I don’t sleep with my PA. Whatever I do tonight, a touch, a caress, a kiss, it’s all just part of an act. You’re perfectly safe with me. All right?’
And something—he’d expected relief, but it wasn’t quite that—flashed across her eyes and was gone. ‘Of course,’ she said, and fled into to powder room.
There. He’d said it. He blew out a breath as he picked up the leftover ring from the coffee table, snapped the box shut and returned it to the safe. Maybe it was, as he had said, to put her at her ease, but there’d also been a measure of wanting to remind himself of his golden rule. Because it had been hard enough to remember which way was up, let alone anything else in the midst of that kiss.
He hadn’t intended it to go so far. He’d meant to tease her into submission, give her just a little taste for more, so she’d be more malleable and receptive to his touch, but she’d sighed into his mouth and turned molten and turned him incendiary with it.
And if he hadn’t frightened her away by the strength of his reaction, he’d damned near frightened himself. He’d had to leave the room before she could see how affected he was, and before he looked into her ocean-deep eyes and decided to finish what he’d started.
He ached to finish what he’d started.
Why did he have that rule about not sleeping with his PAs? What had he been thinking? Surely this was a matter that should be decided on a case-by-case basis.
And then he remembered Inge of the ice-cool demeanour and red hot bedroom athletics and how she’d so neatly tried to demand a chunk of ice for her finger by nailing him with her alleged pregnancy.
There was good reason for his self-imposed rule, he reluctantly acknowledged. Damn good reason.
If only he could make himself believe it.
She didn’t recognise herself in the powder-room mirror. Even after repairing her make-up and smoothing the stray wisps of her hair back into its sleek coil, she still looked like a stranger. No amount of lipstick could disguise the flush to her swollen lips. And while the ring on her finger sparkled under the light, it was no match for the lights in her eyes.
Not when all she could do was remember that kiss, and how he had damn near wrenched out her mind if not her soul with it.
It was wrong to feel excited, even though its impact had so closely mirrored that of the first. But he’d simply been making a point. He’d been acting. He’d said as much himself. It had meant nothing. Or else why could he so easily have turned and walked away?
Yet still she trembled at the memory of his lips on hers. Still she trembled when she thought of how he’d felt, pressing hard and insistent against her belly, stirring secret places until they blossomed and ached with want.
Want that would go unsatisfied. Cheated again. Just an act
. ‘I don’t sleep with my PA.’
And part of her had longed to laugh and tell him that he’d had his chance, years ago, and blown it then. Another part had wanted to slump with relief. While the greater part of her had wanted to protest at the unfairness of it all.
Damn. She’d known this would be difficult. She’d known that seeing him again would rekindle all thosefeelings she had been unable to bury, unable to dim, even with the passage of time.
She dragged air into her lungs, breathed out slowly and resolutely angled her chin higher as she made one final check on her appearance. For surely the worst was over. And at least she knew where she stood. She may as well try to enjoy the rare evening out.
How hard could it be?
‘Remember,’ Leo said, as they made their way to the presidential suite, ‘keep it light and friendly and whatever you do, avoid any talk of family.’
Suits me
, she thought, knowing Leo would be less than impressed if she started telling
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