Otherwise he just might have been tempted to do something stupid, like move even closer and see if that sassy mouth was as generous in the kissing department as it was in the giving lip department.
‘A bath,’ he murmured, crossing his arms. Mentally he shifted beer to his number-two favourite thing right now. ‘Now there’s a thought after a long day.’
He caught the flash of fear in her eyes. He also caught something else there too—a tiny tremor that had her lips parting as she gave a tiny, almost breathless gasp—and a tiny pause when her eyes rested on his lips before they slid away to the lift as if it were some kind of lifeline.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I was just finishing off the filing before I went home.’
He frowned, at both her words and her suddenly skittish nature after she’d been so feisty before. Did she really think he was planning to carry her off to the bathroom in his suite here and now? And why should that be a problem, even if he was? Most women he knew would welcome the suggestion. ‘You told me you always prefer to do your filing first thing in the morning, while you’re fresh. I thought you hated doing it in the evening.’
‘Ah, well…’ Now she looked even more trapped, like someone had sprung a snare on her. ‘Usually I do, that’s true. But seeing I was making up some time I thought I might as well make an early start with it, given tomorrow’s set to be a big day.’ She edged away, giving him a wide berth as she circled around to her desk. He got the impression she was fleeing. ‘I should get going,’ she whispered, confirming his thoughts, a husky layer in her voice grating on his senses.
He watched her close down her computer before slipping on her navy jacket and gathering up her bag, stuffing her bright-pink iPod into a pocket.
‘By the way,’ she said without looking up, ‘Phil Rogerson’s confirmed for ten a.m., and the lawyers have rescheduled so they can be there. It’s all set. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.’
She was halfway to the lift when the truth hit him. Tonight he had no interest in eating alone. Tonight he’d rather spend time going a few more rounds with this challenge of a female—all executive finesse one day, all paradoxical woman the next.
‘Morgan!’
She stopped, and he saw her back straighten as she took a breath before turning slowly around.
‘Yes?’
‘Have dinner with me.’
CHAPTER THREE
SHE blinked once, a slow-motion shutter over her suddenly expressive eyes. Then she gave a barely there shake of her head. ‘No.’ She turned abruptly around and bridged the remaining distance to the lift, making sure not to press the down button too lightly to register. In fact it was a wonder she didn’t push the button clear through the wall.
There was the sound of movement behind her, pounding feet across the floor, and then the steel grip of his large hand wrapping like a manacle around her wrist and forcing her around. ‘That’s it?’ he questioned. ‘Just “no”?’
Even through her jacket his touch felt like a brand, scorching and searing its way deep into her flesh, bone-melting heat that threatened her resolve to get out of here as quickly as she could.
She looked down at the hand circling her wrist, so large and masculine against her navy jacket. Just a few hours ago it had been her hand on his arm, trying to stop him, when her worst nightmare had happened and she’d realised she was stuck in this pretence until Morgan returned. But this time he was trying to stop her.
How the tables had turned.
She raised her eyes slowly, determined that he wouldn’t see how much his touch affected her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she challenged. ‘Not used to getting no for an answer?’
‘You’re meeting someone.’
She wanted to laugh at his knee-jerk reaction. Of course a man like Maverick would assume a woman would feel incomplete without a male, especially when offered his scintillating company. But she didn’t laugh—she couldn’t—not given the way the heat radiating from his eyes paralleled that from his grip, setting her skin to a tingling mess of nerve endings. Instead she battled to get her racing pulse under control, to get her breathing more regular, while wondering if she should compound her sins by inventing a boyfriend Morgan would have to conveniently shed upon her return.
In the end she merely shook her head. The lie was big enough, and getting bigger without her adding to it.
‘Then why not eat with me?’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘You haven’t eaten all day.’