Her pupils dilated. And for a second her practiced, flirtatious front dropped, revealing another woman. A shocked and unsettled and not at all practiced woman.
Satisfaction gripped him. Good. So he could unsettle her, get under her skin the way she was getting under his.
Luke pushed away from the desk, no thought at all in his head but the need to gain the upper hand for a change. Take back the control. She didn’t move, didn’t tear her gaze from his as he came closer. Her hands were white-knuckled on the arms of the chair, but her chin had lifted in a determined way.
He stopped. “I’m going to give you an ultimatum, Marisa,” he said softly. “Either you stop sending me e-mails or”—he paused for effect—”you let me see what color your underwear really is.”
…
Marisa blinked at him. Well, that was unexpected. It was true that she’d been messing with him from the moment she’d walked into his office. From the second they’d locked gazes and she’d seen the intriguing mix of irritation and desire in the depths of his eyes.
She couldn’t help it. He was so uptight. So perfectly put together. As he’d been at the wedding, all buttoned-up and expertly coiffed. His suit immaculate, his tie just so, his shirt crisp. And all she’d wanted to do was pull that tie, unbutton his jacket, tangle her fingers in his hair, put lipstick on his collar.
She knew she shouldn’t mess with chemistry like this, especially after what had gone down with Alistair. Most especially when what was between her and Luke was stronger than that.
But then she’d always been a little naughty.
“Hmmm, choices, choices.” She hoped her voice sounded normal, was afraid it didn’t.
Luke raised a brow. “Well? What’s it to be?”
It should have been an easy decision, since flashing her undies wasn’t a big deal. And yet for some reason, she was strangely reluctant to show Luke. The look in his eyes was so…focused. And the electricity between them so volatile. As though anything could make it explode.
Yet she knew what that raised brow meant. It was a dare. A challenge. She knew it as well as he did. And he was expecting her to balk.
Well, he would be mistaken.
“Sorry, no can do on the e-mails,” she said. “Which means you, lucky boy, get a flash.”
His impressive jawline hardened but the expression in his eyes turned molten, making all the air rush out of her lungs. “Go on, then. I’m waiting.”
She swallowed, hoping she didn’t appear as shaken as she actually was. “Turn around.”
“Turn around?” he repeated
She batted her eyelashes at him. “Pretty please. Or you don’t get to see.”
For a second she really thought he wouldn’t, but then, muttering a curse, he abruptly turned around, presenting her with his wide, muscular back.
Quickly, she slid off the chair and reached up under her skirt, pushing down her panties, wiggling until they came down around her ankles and she stepped out of them. And sighed. She’d dressed this morning with the intent to look totally professional, not to mention utterly sexy—while remaining within company dress codes naturally—but she’d never dreamed Luke Cyborg McNamara would call her bluff and want to see her panties. All her sexy ones were in the wash so she’d pulled out something sensible and cotton and comfortable from her drawer. Plain white. With bunnies.
“You can turn back now,” she said.
He did so, his unamused gaze raking her from head to foot. Marisa pasted on her sauciest smile and stepped up close to him. “Put out your hand.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
Slowly, he extended his hand. Marisa took it, turned it palm up, and deposited her white cotton bunny panties into his hand.
Luke blinked and glanced down at the item of clothing.
“There,” she said in an unsteady voice. “Now you know what color my panties are.”
“Bunnies.”
“Yeah. You got a problem with bunnies?”
She didn’t know what she expected him to do. Drop them on the floor? Fling them in her face? Turn around and walk away? But he didn’t do anything of the kind.
Instead his fingers closed around the fabric at the same time he reached out with his other hand and caught her behind the neck. Pulled her in close. Marisa’s mouth opened in shock, her hands instinctively pressing against the warm, hard wall of his chest as he bent his head and kissed her.
The searing warmth of his mouth was like a lightning strike, making her toes curl inside her high stilettos. Sending 10,000 volts straight through her, wiping her brain completely of thought. She gasped, her fingers clutching the cotton of his shirt, holding on tight, as the kiss turned hungry, demanding.