"Your turn for what?" she asked, temporarily distracted by his claim to be a law-abiding citizen.
Honesty? Just because truth was the name of the game didn't mean he wasn't lying. But in reality, he'd never been anything but forthright in their relationship. Sure, he'd dumped her and broken her heart. But he'd been honest about it.
"To ask you a question." He finished off his dinner and chewed thoughtfully. "What's the name of the last guy you were in love with?"
Love. The word echoed through her chest cavity, which was still empty thanks to the last guy she'd fallen in love with. Her stomach rolled and the wine soured in her mouth.
Stupid game. She could lie. But he'd see through that as though he was reading her mind. And she couldn't take the dare-she'd bet his hundred million it would be something impossible like sit in his lap for five minutes or put her underwear in his pocket with her toes.
Why had she started this game? To prove he'd become someone untrustworthy, when she had no evidence of his involvement in the leak? To prove she wasn't affected by him any longer, when she'd only managed to prove the exact opposite?
Or some deeper reason that she couldn't admit, even internally?
Trapped and furious with herself, she stared at him as her frustration grew. And then she pictured the shock on his face if she blurted out Gage Branson in response to his question. That was perhaps what stung the most-he didn't even realize he'd detonated a landmine in her heart.
The emotional agitation inside boiled over. And that was unacceptable.
"Excuse me." She threw her napkin into the middle of her plate of uneaten chicken marsala and fled to the bathroom before the sob beating in her throat escaped.
* * *
What in the... Gage watched Cass do the hundred-yard sprint through the obstacle course of tables and waiters, presumably headed for the restrooms at the rear of the building.
She'd started this silly game. Was she really that upset he hadn't taken her dare? Why-because she wanted him naked and was too afraid to come right out and say it?
He shook his head and thought seriously about draining his untouched glass of wine to see if Cass made any more sense when he had a buzz. The subsequent headache would at least be more easily explained than the one Cass was giving him.
She didn't return for a long while. A little concerned, Gage followed her, hoping to find a female employee to check on her if need be. Except she was sitting on the velvet bench at the end of the long hallway, her vibe so edgy, he could almost feel the tension.
"Hey," he said softly as he approached. "What's up? Trying to skip out on me? I said I'd pay."
The joke didn't get the smile he'd hoped for. In fact, her expression remained completely blank. "I'm fine."
"Yeah. I can see that." Taking a chance that she'd welcome the company, he sat on the bench next to her.
She didn't move. He'd noticed she did that a lot, holding herself frozen. But this time, he was close enough to see the muscle spasms in her thighs as if she was fighting her body's natural instincts to flee in some kind of mind-over-matter contest.
"I'm sorry I didn't play the game fairly," he said sincerely. And gingerly, in case that wasn't the reason she was upset. Women and emotions were not his forte and he wouldn't be surprised to learn this was one of those situations where if he didn't know why she was upset-she sure wasn't going to tell him.
"You did." She stared straight ahead. "I'm the one who was playing unfairly. You were right, the dare wasn't valid."
Somehow, her admission of guilt managed to sound as if she felt it was anything but her fault. Which was a rare talent.
"Okay. You ready to get out of here, then?" He nodded toward the end of the hallway. "Or do you want to finish dinner?"
"What would be the point of finishing dinner?" she asked in a monotone that pricked the hair on the back of his neck.
This strange mood went well beyond her normal reserve. When he'd labeled her demeanor as brittle earlier, he'd had no clue how much more so she could actually become, as if he had to watch how heavily he breathed for fear of shattering her into a million pieces.
"The point of dinner is so I can spend time with you," he said. And...some other agenda items that had somehow slipped his mind in favor of the woman herself.
That earned him a sidelong glance. "I told you I wasn't a fun date."
"I'm having fun," he told her automatically and then had to clarify. "Well, I was. And then you disappeared."
Physically and mentally.
"That was fun?" She tilted her head toward the dining room, her eyes incredulously wide. "I made you drink wine, which you hate, and then foisted a teenagers' sleepover game on you. Which part did you find the most entertaining?"
"All of it." He grinned in spite of her mood and accepted her scowl with a nod. "You heard me. I have legs and I know how to use them. Trust me, I've got no problem walking out of a restaurant in the middle of a date. I don't waste my time on things that aren't fun."
"Really?"
"Honesty. It isn't just for breakfast anymore."
And finally, he scored a small laugh. Why did that make his chest feel so tight and full?
"I guess I'm done with dinner." She sneaked another glance at him and he pretended not to notice.
"But not with spending time together?" He resisted the urge to reach out. He wanted to touch her but he couldn't gauge if her mood had shifted enough to welcome it.
"Well..." She crossed her arms, hiding her hands underneath, as if she'd sensed that he'd been contemplating taking one of them. "We were supposed to be talking about the leak. I think we have to do that together."
Which wasn't an answer at all. "You know dinner wasn't about the leak. Don't be dense."
"I was giving you the benefit of the doubt," she countered. "I'm well aware that you're playing all the angles."
And that was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Since her hands were still locked behind the cross of her arms, he opted to slide one chunk of hair from her cheek and lingered at her neck. Touching that beautiful alabaster skin had suddenly grown more important than breathing. So he indulged himself, letting his fingers play with her neck. And then he tipped her head back so he could meet her gaze.
A shield snapped over her expression. That look he recognized. The ice goddess returneth. Excellent. Now he could get started melting her, like he'd planned. Though the reasons that had felt so necessary at the beginning of the night weren't the same as they were now. At all.
"No angles," he murmured and drew her face closer. Almost within kissing distance. But not quite. "I asked you to dinner because I wanted to. You...interest me. I want to find out how you've changed since college. Discover what's still the same."
Cass didn't look away, challenging him with merely the glint in her eye. "So you can use it to your advantage."
God, that was sexy. In-charge, take-no-prisoners Cass was something else. His motor started humming. "Absolutely. I fully intend to use every scrap of information I learn to seduce you."
Not even a blink to show she'd registered that he'd shifted away from business and zeroed in on pleasure. Which was where they'd keep it if he had his way. Oh, he'd eventually wind his way back to the formula. But for now, it was all about Cass.
"I think you've forgotten that I specified this dinner should be strictly business. I was about to thank you for sticking to it."
Ah-ha. Her voice had grown a little huskier and it skated through his blood, raising the heat a notch. She wasn't as unaffected as she wanted him to believe.
"Sorry," he apologized without a shred of regret. "I never agreed to that. But we're smart people. We can keep business and pleasure separate. Like we did in college."
He watched her expression smooth out, becoming blank. Which meant he'd hit a nerve.
"I can," she said firmly. "I'm not so sure about you."
"I'm good for it." Press your advantage. Now. "If you are, too, prove it."
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. "How?"
Heat and awareness shot through the roof. God, that dress clung to her curves like a second skin. Would it be terrible if he hooked both sleeves with his thumbs and yanked it down so he could feast his eyes on her beautiful bare breasts?
Gage tipped her chin up with a crooked finger to bring her mouth in range. But he didn't take it with his. Not yet.
"So, let me see if I've got this straight," Cass murmured, her breath mingling with his. "By your logic, if I kiss you, that'll prove I can separate business from pleasure?"