said that; sheâll think Iâm being disloyal. What time shall I pick you up?â
âPick me up?â She couldnât delay looking up; there was nothing left to fuss about with on her neat deskâwhere was an errant paper clip when she needed it?
âFor dinner.â
âItâs a girlsâ night in with a pizza take-away, and even if it wasnât I donât want to go out with you.â
âStaying in would suit me.â
âIâm trying to be polite.â
âDonât worry about manners; you should have left half an hour ago. This is your own timeâbe as rude as you like,â he said generously.
âWhy are you doing this?â
He seemed to consider the question seriously and she had the fleeting impression that he was almost as puzzled as she was. âHormones?â
It wasnât the reply sheâd expected and she almost laughed out loud. That might be construed as encouragement, however, so she carefully wiped all trace of amusement from her face.
âAre you just not used to being knocked back? Is that what this is about? Are you one of those men whoâs more interested in a difficult chase? You lose interest once youâve caught your prey?â
âIn answer to your first question Iâve had my fair share of rejectionâ¦â
âSureâ¦â she drawled.
âYour disbelief is very flattering.â
âIt wasnât meant to be.â Her aching jaw told her she was grating her teeth again.
âIâd enjoy accepting your surrender as much as youâd enjoy offering it.â The heat coursed through her body so unexpectedly, the breath was trapped in her suddenly tight chest. She was angry with herself for allowing the sudden mental image of âsurrenderâ to throw her into such total confusion.
âBut all that stuff about the chase being more fun is pure junk. As to the endurance of these feelings, who can ever tell how long that will last?â
Surrender! Was she really some sort of pathetic creature who fantasised about surrendering to male dominance?
âGive me strength.â The ring of defiance she heard in her own voice was deeply disturbing. âAre we talking hours or days here?â she hurried on, wanting to erase the sound of her own lack of conviction.
âDoes durability lend respectability to sex? I can guarantee quality, notââ
âStaying power?â she suggested, sliding her arm into the tailored jacket that matched her trousers.
âHere, let me.â She either had to comply or indulge in an undignified scuffle so she willed herself to accept his help passively.
âCanât I tempt you?â
There was the faintest tremor in her fingers as she fumbled over the buttons of her jacket. Benedict remained standing behind her, his hands still at either side of her shoulders. Despite the gap of air that separated them she could almost feel the imprint of his fingers; it was quite a bizarre sensation.Was this the same sort of phantom pain amputees suffered? What a ridiculous analogy, she told herself, irritated by the whimsical idea; heâs not part of my body. He could be. Shock at the mental picture that accompanied this maverick thought made her suck in air through her flared nostrils and extinguished the dreamy, unfocused expression in her eyes.
Even as she turned to look at him and firmly shake her head in refusal, the honest answer to his question was ringing in her mind. Not only could he tempt her, he did . Even though she knew he was shallow, deceitful, self-indulgent and definitely not for the likes of her, she actually wantedâno, wanted didnât begin to cover the craving that had taken over her body. Her treacherous hormones had conspired against her.
As devastating as this sudden self-awareness was, she was determined to keep it in proportion and not be overwhelmedâshe could cope. Her intellect and emotions
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