the gambling type, but she took a gamble then, rather than abandon her little game with Sam, which she was enjoying too, much to give up yet—although maybe her sense of humour was leading her into dangerous territory.
Lowering her lashes and looking at him through them, she murmured dulcetly, ‘Bend down, then.’
She caught the flash of surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to agree. But he bent, watching her as if wondering how far she was going to go, and Natalie lifted her head and pressed her mouth firmly on his jaw, more or less where Helen’s slap had connected. His skin was cool and faintly prickly; he hadn’t shaved as closely as usual this morning. In a hurry, no doubt, or his hand not too steady after the night before.
Natalie quickly moved away again. ‘There. All better,’ she mocked.
It might have been wiser not to say anything. She saw his grey eyes glint dangerously, then his hand shot out to capture her chin and hold it in position while his gaze roamed over her face with cool appraisal, as if he had never really noticed how she looked before. He probably hadn’t, either. He was always too busy with work, or other women. She was just part of his office furniture, a useful piece of living equipment he needed for his job. Natalie was aware that she didn’t come into the range of women Sam noticed sexually, and it had often annoyed her. Nobody liked being mistaken for a desk or a chair.
So, when he grabbed her chin and looked at her that way, she was ready to resent it—except that as she looked into his eyes pulses began to beat in her throat, at her wrist, a reaction that disturbed her. What was going on here? She had no designs on Sam, and she wasn’t fool enough to let herself fall for him. She had thought it would be fun to tease him a little, that was all; getting involved with him had definitely not been in her game plan. Maybe it was time to stop playing with him before he began playing with her?
Oh, yes, definitely, she thought in agitation as she saw his gaze lingering on her mouth.
‘Did I kiss you when I proposed?’ he murmured in a smoky, deliberately sensuous tone that seemed to turn her brains to scrambled egg.
She gazed back at him, swallowing convulsively and unable to get a word out.
‘I must have done,’ he added. ‘If I proposed. I must have kissed you, mustn’t I? Pity I don’t remember doing it. I’d like to remember that.’
His gaze was still riveted on her mouth. She felt her face growing hot and tried to say something, anything, to break the strange trance holding her rigid.
Sam bent. Slowly. Very slowly. Her mouth dry, Natalie stared up at his approaching face like a rabbit hypnotised by the dropping shadow of a bird of prey.
When his mouth touched her lips her body seemed to be set on fire; she was so stunned by her own feelings that she didn’t even try pushing him away. She just shook like a leaf, her legs giving under her, her head falling back as if her neck had lost every bone in it and could no longer keep her head upright.
Sam’s arms went round her waist as if to catch her; she clutched at him to keep herself standing on her own two feet. She had once been in an earthquake, in Turkey. This was just how it had felt: the same sense of helplessness, the feeling that you were no longer standing on ground you could trust, tremors running through you and shaking you to your roots.
His hands on the small of her back pushed her closer, closer, until she was lying against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through her own shirt and shivering at the intimacy of the contact, aware of every muscle in his body, every smooth, tanned inch of flesh. She was overwhelmed by a desire to bury her face in that beautiful male skin and was horrified by the impulse.
She must be out of her mind! What did she think she was doing, letting him do this to her? Pulling her head back from his kiss, she put her hands Hat on that strong, naked chest, and shoved him away.
‘Stop it!’
He looked down at her with half-hooded, drowsy eyes, as if waking up, and Natalie’s heart skidded a dangerous corner. So was that how he looked first thing in the morning, in bed?
What are you thinking? she asked herself, despairing of her own brain. You told him to stop it—you should have told yourself the same thing!
Then Sam grinned down at her, mockery glinting in his face. ‘But, Natalie, we’re engaged, aren’t we?’
‘Oh, you think you’re so funny!’ she muttered. Well, it was her own fault for starting this game—she should have remembered that he was a tricky opponent; if you played games with Sam you had to do so with your eyes wide open, and his kiss had tricked her into closing hers. Maybe that was why she had gone a little crazy? Next time she’d keep her eyes wide open.
What next time? she asked herself furiously. There was never going to be another time, thank you very much. Once burnt, twice shy. She wasn’t going within an inch of him in future. She had learnt something this morning that worried her.
Sam could get to her. If he got too close he could make her go crazy. Well, he wasn’t getting another chance to do that to her!
His ring was a little loose on her finger, anyway; her fingers were so much smaller, thinner than his—so it was time she gave it back to him, in case she lost it. She would hate to do that, even if he richly deserved it. She knew how much the ring meant to him and his family, and how valuable it was.
‘Here,’ she said, very flushed, pulling the ring off and handing it to him.
‘Jilting me so soon?’ he reproached, but she noticed he accepted the ring without a second’s hesitation and immediately slid it back onto his own finger with an audible sigh of relief.
‘You know we weren’t really engaged!’ Natalie told him crossly, resenting his eagerness to get his ring back. ‘I didn’t take you seriously last night; I knew you were out of your head. I only kept your ring because I thought you might lose it if I didn’t take care of it. You obviously had no idea what you were doing! I just hope it has taught you a lesson. Maybe next time you go to a party you won’t drink so much.’
He eyed her coldly. ‘Yes, Miss—thank you, Miss!’ Then he grimaced. ‘No, you’re right—I can assure you, I will make sure I never drink that much again. I have the worst headache of my life today.’
‘You deserve it,’ she muttered, moving away.
He looked sharply at her, and then, his voice holding soft threat, said, ‘Be careful, Natalie. Don’t push it too far. Remember, I’m your boss. Now, would you be good enough to finish doing up my shirt?’
The last thing she wanted to do was go any closer to him again, but after being reminded that he was her employer she was wary of refusing point-blank—especially as those hard eyes of his were daring her to argue.
Also, if she refused she would betray something to him. He would realise she was afraid to come near him and he would start thinking about that and jumping to conclusions she didn’t want him to jump to——conclu— sions she had only just begun to suspect herself and needed time to think through.
So without a word she did what he wanted, trying to avoid contact with any part of his body, gingerly pushing the buttons through the buttonholes without touching the bare skin under his shirt. She had to stand far too close to him for comfort, but she kept her eyes lowered all the time to avoid meeting his watchful gaze. Through her lashes she could see Sam’s face, though, his eyes
