far more interesting things for him to do than to spend his time writing Ed’s editorials, she thought dreamily.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“About why people do things,” she said obliquely.
“Personally, I’ve long since come to the conclusion that most people don’t have any motivation. They simply react to events and then try to rationalize after the fact.”
“You’re oversimplifying,” Cassie argued. “Most people have a goal. Something that drives them toward a certain end.”
“Such as what made you tell Ed about the ghost?” He eyed her narrowly.
“Has anyone ever told you that persistence carried to extremes is no longer a virtue?” Cassie shot back.
Dan studied her for a long moment and then said, “What do you think is motivating me?”
Cassie stared at him. The skin around the corners of his bright eyes crinkled as if in humor. Or devilment, she thought with a spurt of excitement. Her gaze slipped lower to study the humorous quirk of his firm lips.
“Hunger for your dinner?” she asked.
“You’re partially correct.” He got to his feet and slowly walked around the table toward her. “Hunger is very definitely a major part of what is motivating me at the moment. But food isn’t the source. You are.”
“I are...am?” Her concentration faltered when he stopped scant inches from her. If she were to move ever so slightly, she would be touching him. She swallowed uneasily at the depth of the longing she felt to do exactly that. She tilted her head back and looked up at him. His mouth was curled in a sensuous smile that reflected her own longing, a fact that didn’t help her crumbling composure.
“I want to kiss you.” His voice deepened perceptibly. “Would you object if I did?”
Cassie stared at him, intrigued by his request. She was far more used to men who grabbed what they wanted—whether it was a thing or a person. To have a man actually ask for what he wanted was a novelty.
“No,” she said slowly, “I wouldn’t object.”
“In that case...” He leaned forward and ever so gently pressed his lips to hers. A sudden surge of reaction shot through her, sending a flush of heat racing under her skin. The faint scent of his cologne drifted down into her lungs and then seeped into her mind, intensifying her reaction. His lips felt warm and firm and ever so faintly rough as he slowly rubbed them back and forth.
Cassie shivered, unconsciously clutching him. Her fingers dug into the firm muscles of his shoulder. She leaned forward, wanting more, much more than she was getting. She wanted to find out what it would be like if he were to wrap his arms around her and pull her up against him. If he were to press her body against his lean, muscled one.
Cassie blinked as a ringing sound filled her head. The telephone. Her mind automatically put a name to the sound. The telephone was ringing. She lifted her heavy lids and watched as Dan stepped back, a scowl on his face. That was exactly how she felt—as if she had been interrupted on the brink of some momentous discovery. But maybe it was for the best, she thought, a slither of reality chilling her sense of euphoria. She was getting in too deep, too fast with this man. She didn’t know why she was so drawn to him. Or why he fascinated her so. And, more important, she didn’t know how much of her fascination was reciprocated.
“Are we going to answer it?” His rueful question brought her back to earth with a thud. Her pride rebelled at the thought that he might think she was one of those vapid females thrown into a dither by a kiss. Because that was all it had been, she assured herself. A simple kiss. What hadn’t been simple had been her reaction to it. That had been a masterpiece of complications.
“Excuse me,” she muttered as she brushed past him, the skin on her arm tingling where it touched him. Cassie hurried out to the lobby, snatching up the phone on its sixth ring.
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