cup. “Do you doubt my ability to sift through information?”
“Not at all,” Hayden winked. “I’m doubting his.” In an unguarded moment with another male, without a woman present as a constant reminder of discretion, who knew what the foreman would let slip in the throes of an unexpected visit with no time to prepare himself. Hayden would make sure of it. He was not without his own persuasive tools.
“Very well then.” Jenna set down her empty tea cup and rose. She stuck out her hand for him to shake. “I’m glad that’s settled. Thank you again for taking the case.”
It wasn’t really a case, not yet anyway. He didn’t bother to correct her. He took her hand. She was prepared for a handshake but he had something better in mind. Hayden tugged her to him, drawing her close in surprise.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, the hint of breathlessness in her tone ruining the attempt at chagrin. It confirmed his suspicions.
“I am sealing our bargain with something better than a handshake.”
“I am not that girl from the crowd.” Jenna warned. “Someone whom you can kiss at will simply because you’re popular.”
For a moment he didn’t follow. Who? He’d been so intent on Jenna, all other thoughts had fled. “Oh, Miss Last Night.” He murmured as an afterthought, more to himself than to her.
She took umbrage with the comment. “Whoever she was, I’m not Miss Tonight, not by any stretch of your imagination.” She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He could see she was fighting the attraction. She should just admit to it as he had. Life was simpler when one admitted to such impulses.
Hayden grinned, thoroughly enjoying the chase. “I don’t know about that, my imagination can stretch pretty far and you haven’t exactly said no. Admit it, Jenna. You’re not arguing with me, you’re arguing with yourself.” Hayden had recognized the dilemma immediately. She didn’t really want to resist, she just thought she should. He solved the dilemma for her.
His mouth slid over hers before Jenna could even think to utter another protest over his latest audacity. They fitted together effortlessly as if he’d done this a thousand times, which, a remote part of her brain noted, he most likely had. The rest of her simply didn’t care. Unorthodox or not, the feel of his lips, the touch of his hand against her cheek, the caress of his fingers as they cupped her jaw, were positively electrifying against her skin, her lips.
It was quite unlike any deal she’d ever sealed before. This was no chaste peck of polite acknowledgment. It was bold, hot, assertive; very much like the man himself, and it struck at the core of her, invoking a fiery response that was part passion and part anger. She could not help but respond to the expertise of his touch, his kiss. Her body answered his. Her tongue engaged his when it teased her mouth, her body pressed against his where he had dragged her to him, drinking in the muscled planes of his masculinity.
That was the passion reacting. She was experienced enough to recognize it for it was. She was also experienced enough to know that Hayden Islington was getting precisely the response he’d anticipated. That angered her as much as the kiss itself inspired her. She’d taken the bait.
Jenna broke the kiss, her anger and her pride overpowering the passion, although not easily. Kisses of that magnitude didn’t happen every day and were not to be squandered. She took a step back. “I am not one of your women who can be bought with kisses and cheap flattery.”
The accusation did not have the effect she was intending. His gaze raked her. “No, you most certainly are not.” He was amused, damn him. It was etched in the brackets of his smile, the crinkling of his blue eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that stretched the seams of his jacket enough to remind her how well-made he’d felt against her curves only moments ago as he fixed her with laughing eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you didn’t think about it. Tell me the truth, just for a moment you wanted to be her.”
“You’re quite possibly the most conceited man I’ve ever encountered.” Jenna replied drily, but something else came to mind. Maybe the word she was looking for wasn’t conceited at all, but intelligent, an admission she would make to herself only as part of calculating his character. She had felt a twinge of awe and envy for the woman he’d pulled from the crowd and kissed so hard, so thoroughly, Jenna had felt the power of that kiss even at a distance. She suspected every other woman there had too.
It was what he’d wanted, Jenna realized. He’d orchestrated that, perhaps even down to the type of woman he had chosen. It wasn’t envy she felt now for the girl. The girl had been blonde and dressed in a bright blue outfit that had stood out against the white of the snow and the darkness of Islington’s own attire. They’d made a striking couple to the onlookers and Islington had known it.
“You are a consummate showman, it would seem. Everything arranged precisely to the maximum effect. I will not tolerate being used in such a manner. I must remind you again that I am not that sort of woman.”
“I would wager you’re something better altogether.” His voice was low and intimate.
Jenna stiffened. The dratted man refused to give up flirting. “I was not looking for a comparison.” It was time to leave. Apparently, they were done discussing business.
“I know what you were looking for. You were looking for an apology.” He gave a wide grin. “Don’t worry; I recognize a set down when I hear one. In this case, I simply chose not to acknowledge it.” He winked and rested a hip on the edge of the sideboard. “That usually throws a quirk into the plans. I like to see what people will do when their usual avenues of response are detoured. It’s instructive as to their true natures.” He cocked his head to one side. “Would you like me to tell you what it says about your nature?”
He was far too arrogant for her tastes. Jenna grabbed up her cloak and gloves. “Hardly. You’ve not known me long enough to form any legitimate opinion. I’ve hired you to investigate my mill workers, not to investigate me.” If she had any authority, it was time to assert it.
Jenna swept past him, outerwear in hand, head held high. It was the most final exit she could think of. Nothing said an interview was over like departure. She was at the door when his words stopped her, his voice a quiet caress like the slide of silk on skin. “It’s Hayden, Jenna, and you would burn with the right man, that’s what it says about your nature.”
Jenna’s hand tightened on the knob. Her face forward, away from him so he could not see the heat such a comment raised in her cheeks. How dare he imply he could be the man who would make her burn? How dare he dare her to want to find out? But there was no mistaking that was precisely what he intended with his quiet challenge. “Goodnight, Mr. Islington.” She said with a coolness she certainly didn’t feel.
“I will see you tomorrow.” he called after her, a chuckle evident in his voice. “Sleep well, Jenna.”
Hah, as if there was any chance of that now.
That would make two of them facing sleepless nights. It only seemed fair to trouble her sleep if she was going to trouble his and he was damned sure she was. Hayden poured himself a drink, a wry smile on his lips as he imagined her stomping out of the building in high dudgeon, that gorgeous fur-collared cloak flying behind her. He
