first blood. “I don’t like you.”
He leaned against the railing beside her. “And all your friends do. That must really suck.”
“You have no idea.”
“Maybe you’re trying too hard not to like me?”
Eyes wide, she turned her head and stared at his profile. “Are you delusional?”
Not seeming at all offended, he angled his head in consideration. “I don’t think so, but then if I were, how would I know?”
“Is it any wonder I want to run in the opposite direction every time I see you?”
He leaned toward her. “Face it, you have the hots for me.”
“Sure I do,” she returned sarcastically, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart rate pick up speed. Propping her forearm on the deck railing, she forced herself to hold his gaze and move closer, until their faces were mere inches apart. “Probably because of all those compliments about me and everything I care about.”
“I’m a scientist,” he said, his gaze flicking to her lips. “I’m required by law to hate literature.”
“You don’t seem like much of a rule follower. Do you really hate all the classics? Or is it just not cool to read?”
“Dickens had his moments, and I do like Yeats, but I’m more of a modernist when it comes to pleasure reading.”
He really did have a gorgeous face. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t put down the things I like.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t judge me without even knowing me.”
When he licked his lips, she bit back a groan. “I’ll do my best.”
“Tell you what, if I keep my derogatory comments about English poets and long-winded nineteenth century literature to a minimum, will you participate in an experiment?”
“What experiment?”
“Kiss me.”
As her breath caught in her throat, her heart lurched to a stop. Were Sloan and Andrea right? Was she jumping to conclusions? Would she and Gavin be great together? Was there something to this honey and bees thing? Maybe, with their chemistry leading them, they could find common ground somehow.
He continued in a low Texas drawl, “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since you stormed off the other day.”
She coughed to clear her throat. “You’ve been on my mind quite a bit, as well.”
His perfect teeth flashed in a smile. “Anything you want to mention, between the cuss words and name calling, that is?”
“Your degrees are imaginary.”
“Are they?” He seemed surprised.
“I had the historical society’s resident computer expert do a little research. She discovered your name change, by the way. Care to elaborate?”
“Fortune is descriptive—and sexy, don’t you think?”
That wasn’t an answer. A confirmation. Or a denial. Hmm … “It’s something, all right. I saw you talking to her earlier.”
“Who?”
“My computer expert—Penelope Waters.” Brenna narrowed her eyes. “Who you need to take off your radar instantly.”
“I don’t fool around with kids.”
“Or big-breasted waitresses.”
“For some reason, I find temperamental redheads fascinating all of a sudden. Are you going to let me kiss you or not?”
“I was waiting for you. Are you sure your lothario reputation is actually earned? Because so far—”
His mouth covered hers midrant. His lips were warm, persuasive, tasting appealingly of whiskey and sent a spark of desire shooting down her spine.
He cupped her jaw in his hand, angling her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue gliding against hers. She pressed her body to his, her hands clutching his soft cotton shirt as she fought to get closer.
Man, he felt amazing. She closed her eyes, shutting out her conscience, which was trying to remind her that she was kissing her opponent.
“I really don’t need this complication in my life at the moment,” he whispered hotly against her cheek.
“You’re hopelessly arrogant,” she returned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her aching breasts against his firm chest.
“You’re too serious.” His lips moved over hers for another heated kiss. “And you could be a lot quieter.”
She was perfectly happy with the method he used to silence her.
He had a great mouth, and the hunger that twisted low in her belly spread and intensified. As his hands slid down her back to cup her butt and tug her against his erection, she moaned.
The heat that had flared briefly between them a few days ago raged into a white-hot fire, leaving her body throbbing, and incinerating every vow she’d made about keeping her distance from this man.
He not only had her motor revving, it was on the verge of blowing. Yet she didn’t do one-night stands. And she couldn’t imagine anything with Gavin Fortune lasting beyond one night.
They were adversaries at best, stone-cold enemies at worst.
This same thought seemed to occur to him at the exact second it did her, since they both jumped back simultaneously.
“We can’t do this,” he said, his breathing harsh and choppy as he stared in disbelief at her.
“You started it,” she snapped, annoyed that she wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms.
“Me? You were all over me.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Delusional. You were the one who proposed the experiment.”
“Which was a complete failure. I don’t want you in the least.”
“Me, either.” Every cell in her body tingled, calling her a liar. “I’ll have no problem doing my duty by the historical society and checking up on every move you and your crew makes.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to look aggravated, even though she could see the desire lingering in his eyes as his gaze focused on her lips. “It’s summer. Can’t you set aside the overbearing teacher impulses until September?”
“Unfortunately for you, no.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
Breath heaving, they glared at each other. In the next
