She took a larger mouthful of brandy.
‘You had forgotten,’ he marvelled.
‘No. But we did get interrupted,’ she responded tartly. ‘I don’t know about you, but I found it extremely embarrassing. Enough to make the rest of it, well...’ She broke off as she searched for the right words.
‘Pale into insignificance?’ he suggested dryly.
‘Not exactly,’ Harriet denied and took another sip of her drink. ‘But it did—move it back a bit if you know what I mean.’ She paused and shrugged. ‘It probably put it into its right perspective.’
‘What would that be?’
She glinted him an assessing look from beneath her lashes, then thought—why should I try to spare his feelings? ‘It was just something that happened in the heat of the moment, wasn’t it?’
‘Go on.’
Harriet hesitated, unable to read his expression but feeling a prickle of apprehension run through her. ‘Well, you insulted me, I responded—’
‘With a blow, allow me to remind you.’ He looked sardonically amused.
Harriet compressed her lips. ‘I’m sorry. I believe I had cause, however. Look—’ she paused ‘—I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t still furious with me over your car.’
‘Not to mention my collarbone. There are still some things I can’t do. I’m not still furious, however.’ Damien Wyatt crossed his arms and leant back with a frown growing in his dark eyes. ‘Well, I may have been a bit annoyed but I have to say I’m mostly confused now. In fact I’m beginning to wonder if I’m hallucinating. Did you or did you not kiss me back almost like a woman starved for—that kind of thing?’
Harriet stared at the cameo for a long moment then looked at him squarely. ‘Maybe. But it’s best forgotten.’
‘Why?’
Harriet pushed her glass away and stood up. ‘Because I have no intention of getting involved with you, Mr Wyatt. Please don’t take that personally. I’m...I’m...happy to be fancy-free, that’s all.’
He stared at her and she was suddenly conscious that not only was she completely unable to read his thoughts but, more than that, it troubled her.
Why? Why should she care one way or another about what he thought of her? The sensual response he’d managed to draw from her had come about because he was experienced and worldly—she had little doubt of that—so why should she invest it with any special meaning or depth?
Well, she amended her thoughts, she had to take some responsibility for her reaction, surely? Starved? Perhaps—but she didn’t even want to think about that...
‘Would you mind if I went now? I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time but I honestly don’t think it could work.’
Damien stayed absolutely still for a moment longer then he straightened and stood up, leaning his fists on the table. ‘Yes, I would mind,’ he said dryly, ‘and I’ll tell you why. I don’t propose to have you on my conscience for a moment longer, whether I realise it or not, Harriet Livingstone.’
‘You don’t have to have me on your conscience!’ she objected.