November Harlequin Presents 2(18)

He steered the car into the underground car park and brought it to a halt, but made no move to exit the car.

‘Morgan,’ he said when she reached for the handle.

She turned around to face him. ‘Yes?’

He slung one arm around the back of her seat and leant over towards her, not missing that she shrank back towards the door like she was afraid he was going to pounce on her.

Then again, maybe he was.

The idea had appeal, especially if it would be to continue where they’d left off last night. All night he’d thought about that kiss, where it could have gone—where it would have gone—if only she hadn’t bolted like the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.

‘Did you want something?’ she prompted, her hand still on the door handle. Her eyes were suspicious, and her colour was up. Even her breathing was coming too rapid, like she was preparing for battle.

Or something else.

Was she remembering that kiss too? Was she feeling this pull, like it wasn’t over, that they still had unfinished business?

‘Your sister saw Rogerson’s son a month ago. It was remarkable she told you that.’

‘Look! What is your problem? I expected you to be happy after that meeting. Didn’t you just get what you wanted?’

What he wanted? What he wanted? He wasn’t sure what he wanted lately. Other than right now wanting to kiss his sultry secretary senseless.

But she’d already released the catch and was halfway out.

‘Morgan!’

He was out of the car and after her as she made for the lift, her fingers jabbing at the call button like she was clamouring for emergency services.

‘Why are you so defensive about this? It was nothing short of remarkable,’ he said as she stared at the closed lift doors, her chest rising and falling like she’d just run a hundred metres. ‘Just as it was nothing short of fortuitous.’

This time she swung her head around, her eyes large and luminous in their surprise. ‘Fortuitous?’

She was so sick of his questions, so sick of the constant probing. She knew it was only a matter of time before he caught her out on a lie, a lie that would bring this whole sordid deception tumbling down around her. But he was now saying it was fortuitous. ‘I thought you were angry with me.’

‘I thought I was too,’ he said. ‘Because I couldn’t work out what you’d done to bring Rogerson around.’

She shook her head, but whether it was to argue with his words, or more as a protest against his menacing proximity, she wasn’t sure. He was too close, like a dark presence bearing down upon her, focusing on her so intently it was difficult to breathe. Difficult to think.

It had been easier when he’d been antagonistic, easier when he’d been distant, and a dark fury like a storm cloud had hung over him.

The lift arrived and she fled into the relative sanctuary. A sanctuary that became a prison cell when she turned and realised she was now trapped in a metal box with the very man from whom she’d been trying to escape.

He inserted a card key and pushed a button that would take them uninterrupted to his penthouse office, but then, instead of staying by her side like she was hoping, he turned so his back was to the doors. She flattened herself hard against the wall of the lift, feeling the hand rail pressing into the small of her back.

‘Don’t you see,’ he said, moving even closer, planting a hand on the wall beside her head when the lift jerked into motion, ‘that if your sister hadn’t told you that she’d seen Sam, and if you hadn’t thought to mention it today, then Rogerson’s response might have been a very different one? He went into this meeting shaky about committing, but something you said made the difference. What did you tell him?’

He was too close. Way too close, so she could feel his heat curling into hers; way too close, so she could study the individual whiskers that made a shadow in the cleft of his chin. And if she could feel his scent wrap around her like a silken ribbon and tug her even closer then he was so close it was damn near fatal. She battled for control of her tongue, felt even that shred of control slipping dangerously away.

‘I don’t know,’ she managed at last. ‘Phil was saying he worried about his son taking risks in difficult circumstances, and I just told him that sometimes it’s worthwhile taking risks if you want to make a difference.’

His eyes glinted in the light and the corners of his mouth turned up. ‘Oh, bravo,’ he uttered, a low rumbling whisper that turned her scattered thoughts and her bones to jelly. ‘I gave a long speech about what the project meant for the world and our respective businesses. But somehow you managed to encapsulate what the project meant on a personal basis, for the one man who could’ve put paid to the entire agreement. But who didn’t.’