"You are not my…" She paused with a wry expression. "I'm getting a strange sense of déjà vu."
He chuckled. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Nothing." She made a tiny cut between the two massive cups of Corky's bra.
He eyed the pile of clothing on the dressing table. "You're exacting revenge by destroying Corky's underwear?"
"They're not destroyed." Vanda folded several pairs of lacy underwear and returned them neatly to a drawer. "They're just altered a tiny bit. Corky will never notice." She shut the drawer with a wicked grin. "Until it's too late."
Phil sighed. "Vanda, this is not what they mean by anger management."
She folded up a brassiere and stacked it in another drawer. "I don't need anger management. I was sorely tempted to jump that bitch in her office, but then I thought about all the ripped-out hair and black eyes and lawsuits, and I had to ask myself, 'Is it really worth it? "
He couldn't help but smile. "You're thinking before you act. That's an improvement."
"Thank you." She picked up the last bra and showed him the humongous cups. "Can you believe this? Fill it with rice and you could feed a starving family of four for a week." She folded it and placed it in a drawer. "Do men really find such huge breasts attractive?"
"Yes. Some men do."
She shot him a dirty look and slammed the drawer shut.
"But I don't." He moved closer to her chair. "I have seen perfection, so I could never want anything less."
She eyed him warily. "Nobody's perfect."
"You are. For me."
She jumped to her feet, positioning the chair between them. "I need to go. Corky could come in any minute."
"You've been avoiding me."
"I've been busy." She tightened the whip around her waist. "And I don't think there's anything to talk about, really."
He eased around the chair. "Have you thought about our kiss?"
"No." She lifted her chin. "I completely forgot about it. I figured it was an accident and we should never let it happen again."
"You reached that decision after you forgot about it?"
She scowled at him. "Okay. I remember it quite well. But just because it was hot, that doesn't mean we should do it again."
He smiled slowly. "It was hot, wasn't it?"
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. "I…can't remember."
"Strange how your memory comes and goes."
She licked her lips. "Some things are best forgotten."
He slipped an arm around her. "Have you forgotten how I make your heart pound?" He could hear it pounding.
She rested her hands against his chest. "I seem to recall something to that effect…"
He nuzzled her neck. "Have you forgotten how you tremble at my touch?"
She trembled. "Phil…" Her fingers clutched greedily at his shirt. "I don't want to fall for you."
"But you are." He noted the red glint in her eyes. "I know you want me."
"No." She raked her hands into his hair, closing her fists around the strands as if she never wanted to let him go. "I don't want you at all."
"That's a shame." He kissed her brow. "'Cause I want you."
"You shouldn't." She tugged his head down so she could kiss his mouth.
"Sweetheart, you're giving out mixed signals."
"I know." She pressed her body against his. "I've got to stop this. But God help me, I can't…stop."
He took her mouth, kissing her with all the passion that had simmered for eight long years. Her lips parted with a sweet surrender. But this was no passive surrender, not from his feisty Vanda. She stroked his tongue, then sucked on it with a desperation that made his blood boil. His groin swelled and he pulled her tight against him. With a deep growl he discovered just how well her thin spandex cat-suit hugged every curve of her body from the sweet cheeks of her rump to the small of her back.
She rubbed against him, and his erection throbbed.
He unzipped her catsuit far enough to allow him to slip his hand inside and cup her breast. "You're so beautiful, so perfect." He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and the tip hardened.
She gasped. "Phil…" Her hands rubbed up and down his back.
"Vanda, I want to make love to you."
Her hands stilled. "No." She moved back, breaking his embrace. "I can't…love you."