Winter Magic: 4 (The Hawks Mountain Series) by Elizabeth Sinclair

grip on her emotions, the last thing she’d have to be worrying about would be sweating.
    Trying to keep the details of Miranda’s business straight was causing her enough worries. She didn’t need to be disarmed by the effect his proximity had on her, too. That she was even allowing any thought of Jonathan into her mind beyond business was ridiculous.
    Desperate to channel her thoughts into a safer area, she began mentally to recite the alphabet. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J  . . . Jonathan. It wasn’t working.
    Business. Maybe if she just got them back on a business track, she could erase the tingles riding her spine. She turned to face him. He had settled back on the sofa, putting him in direct eye contact with her. The space between them seemed to have shrunk to nothing. He was so close. Temptingly close. His blue eyes bore into hers. My goodness, no one had the right to be this  . . . this  . . . this  . . .
    “Miss Cameron?”
    His voice filtered slowly through the fog surrounding Andi’s brain.
    “Andi?”
    Andi blinked. Dazed, she glanced around, slowly bringing the room back into focus. Then her gaze met his. She moved still farther away from him. Her face felt hot enough to cook on. Unable to look at him and feeling the complete fool, she concentrated on the first thing her gaze came in contact with, an insect trapped inside the clear Lucite paperweight on the coffee table. She could relate.
    Andi prided herself on being an intelligent woman. Why was this happening to her? What could she have been thinking? Miranda must be right. She needed to get out more, date, be in the company of men so she could read the signs. Just because a man sat next to you and breathed on you didn’t mean anything. Besides, once he came up against the real Miranda, Andi would fade into the background.
    Andi sprang to her feet. There would be time to agonize over her behavior later. Right now, all she wanted was to get away from Jonathan.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    She shrugged, kept her gaze turned away and spoke in a whisper. “I’m just a tad dizzy from the mimosa I had with lunch.”
    “If you’d like, I can ask Davis to bring us some coffee.”
    “No. That’s okay. I’m fine now, Mr. Prince.”
    Jonathan frowned. “I thought we’d gotten past the formalities.” He couldn’t figure out why she suddenly as jumpy as a newborn rabbit. “I—”
    “Perhaps we should move to your desk where you’ll be more  . . . where it’ll be easier to take notes on my information.”
    Before he could say a word, she’d grabbed her clipboard and the programs and then moved to the leather chair facing his desk. Feeling a bit like a prizefighter who had taken an unexpected body blow to the bread basket, he rose and followed her. Seating himself in his chair, he swiveled to face her.
    “Andi, is there something wrong? Something I said?” He studied her. “If I did, it was totally unintentional, and I apologize.” Why was he apologizing? He hadn’t done anything. Oh, he would have liked to, there was no question about that. Even now, while he watched her fuss with the clipboard and her skirt hem, he felt the irrational need to go around the desk and haul her into his arms, to erase the look of panic that filled her eyes.
    And, he told himself, that’s exactly what she wants. This timid facade she’s presenting is nothing more than a cover-up for the blatant moves she put on him at their first meeting. Since her overt passes didn’t work, now she’s playing the coy innocent.
    Watch your step with this one, Jonathan. She’s been around the block a few times.
    “There’s no need to apologize.” Andi looked away. “You didn’t do anything. It was just the mimosas. So, please, can we just forget it and get on with our business?” Andi slipped a pencil from above her ear, and then checked off something on her clipboard. “I’m going to need an estimate of the guest count to give the caterer before I