Project: Runaway Heiress by Heidi Betts

conflicting emotions.
    She was not in Los Angeles to have her hormones go haywire just because she was in close proximity to a handsome, charming Brit. He was supposed to be her enemy, for heaven’s sake.
    But her hormones were going wild, distracting her and throwing her off her well-planned-out path.
    Not just because Nigel was an attractive man. She’d met handsome men before. Met them, worked with them, dated and even slept with a few.
    Good looks were nice, but she wasn’t so weak that they could push her over the edge into total stupidity. Nor could a thick British accent, no matter how toe-curling it might be.
    No, there was something else about Nigel that had her pulse thrumming and her head spinning like a kaleidoscope.
    She actually kind of liked him so far, despite her preconceived notions of who Nigel Statham must be—a rich, entitled CEO, not above stealing another designer’s ideas to advance his own agenda.
    But would a rich, entitled thief ask her opinion on something as important as hiring choices and then actually listen to her answer? Would he compliment her on her insight and walk her to her door at the end of the evening?
    The worst part, though, was the kiss. A simple kiss on the cheek, not much different than she’d received a thousand times from older acquaintances, uncles, even her own father.
    Then again, it was so not like a kiss from her father. Light and on the cheek, yes. To anyone who might have been watching, it would have seemed to be exactly what it was—a polite, friendly good-night kiss. A thanks-for-a-nice-evening, take-care, sleep-tight kiss from one friend to another. Or in this case, a man to a woman he’d only recently met.
    But Lily knew differently. Or at least she felt differently. Never before had a simple kiss on the cheek caused her temperature to rise. Her heartbeat to kick into a gallop. Her stomach to launch into a series of somersaults that would put an Olympic gymnast to shame.
    And that was all at only the first touch of his lips on
her skin.
    She’d expected him to pull away almost immediately. A quick peck, that’s all. It was almost what she’d hoped for, because then her vitals would return to normal.
    For some reason, though, he’d lingered. Not long enough for the moment to become awkward, but certainly long enough for everything in her to turn warm and liquid, and for her chest to tighten as she held her breath.
    One-one thousand.
    Two-one thousand.
    Three-one thousand.
    She’d begun to count silently, the way she and her sisters had when they were young, playing hide-and-seek. Until she worried that lack of oxygen might start to make her light-headed.
    And then he’d pulled away. Straightening to his full height, and gazing at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
    Murmuring another quick, mumbled goodbye, he’d turned on his heel and marched away.
    He’d gone, but the aftereffects of the kiss had remained. Through the rest of the night and into this morning.
    She could swear she still felt the brush of his mouth against her cheek even now.
    And wasn’t that going to be a terrific way to go through the day? Imagining ghost lips dancing along her skin. Wondering if the look she’d seen in Nigel’s eyes just before he’d walked away had been desire...or distaste.
    Taking another long swig of coffee, she let the strong, hot brew slide down her throat and trickle into her system. A caffeine IV would be better. Then again, so would a nice shot of vodka. Or maybe a splash of whiskey to make the coffee both smoother and more potent.
    Fingers flexing around the ceramic mug, Lily told herself to stop being so flighty. She wasn’t here—in Los Angeles or at Ashdown Abbey—to daydream or wax poetic. And she certainly needed to get her act together before Nigel arrived.
    Thoughts of that stupid kiss and what it might or might not mean had kept her up half the night. They didn’t need to distract her all day, too. Especially since she