eyes. For a moment the same confusion flashed across his face. Then he closed it down, shuttering his expression, and their eyes locked, neither giving anything away.
For once she won the duel. He looked away, a small frown pleating his brow.
She wriggled, wanting to escape the intimacy. He moved so she could sit up. She was amazed at her lapse. She never slept with a lover. Had sex, sure, but never allowed herself to lose consciousness—that was too intimate, too vulnerable. Lucy didn’t do vulnerability. She refused to put herself in the position of giving someone else control over her heart, mind or body.
The scary thing was, she’d almost given Daniel exactly that. How much had she given away just now? Not just her body. Her heart was putting itself on a plate this very minute. She took it straight back to the fridge.
‘You’re getting cold?’ He clipped out the words as he moved away from her. ‘I’m sorry, I fell asleep.’
She flinched. She wasn’t the only one going cold; he was as icy as the moment she’d first met him—remote, detached, disapproving. Her whole body hit sub-zero temperatures. She didn’t know why his emotional detachment bothered her. He’d said once only. She already knew he didn’t do commitment. Hell, she didn’t do commitment—not at this point in her life. So much for no regrets. He looked as if he was itching to get out of here. Definitely not wanting to talk about it. Well, she wasn’t going to do a cringesome cling-on act. She needed to save face and reestablish a protective layer. She’d never expected him to be so potent, so passionate. Time to back-pedal—fast. She hid behind the curtain of her hair. ‘Well, I guess we got that out of the way.’
‘Out of the way?’
She flicked her hair back and bluffed indifference. ‘Yeah, scratched the itch. Quenched the curiosity.’
‘Curiosity?’
‘Mmm hmm.’ She swung her legs off the pool table. Oh, man, she was still wearing her boots.
His hand caught her arm and he turned her to face him. ‘What exactly are you saying, Ms Delaney?’
‘I’m saying, Mr Graydon, that that was fun.’
‘Fun?’ He stared at her, but she couldn’t figure a thing from the lights reflected in his eyes.
‘Sure. It was OK. But we won’t be doing it again.’
‘We won’t.’
She shook her head. ‘Too messy.’
He glanced at the felt of the pool table. She followed suit and felt her cheeks fill with blood. Her wet and his sweat marked it. Hell. She’d have to hand in her notice immediately. Frustration flooded through her. She’d just done this job so well. For the first time she’d actually aced something. Now she’d stuffed it by sleeping with her Type A boss who’d just been waiting for her to trip up. Any other gig and she’d be on the road, not willing to put up with that kind of pressure.
The frustration turned into fight. She was tired of starting over. She’d had her first taste of success and she wanted another. She wanted to show him three times over. Besides, she needed the cash.
Even more reason to blow the whistle on this little interlude. She’d do it as coolly as she could and ignore the way she was quaking inside. Block out that secretly she wanted more. No vulnerability allowed—not around Mr Ice.
‘Look, Daniel. I’m working for you. I was curious. It was nice but we’re done. Let’s go back to our business relationship, shall we? I’m sorry. Blame it on the heat of the night—the success of the relaunch went to my head.’
His eyes didn’t leave her face the entire time she spoke. She curled her fingers into fists and tried to ignore his superb nudity.
‘And caused you to ravish me.’
‘Ravish you?’ He’d done the ravishing. She sure felt like she’d been ravished. He’d broken down defences she’d been sure were insurmountable. But he didn’t know that and, even if he did, if his current expression was anything to go by, he didn’t care.
‘I wasn’t the one who ripped the buttons off this shirt.’ His muscles flexed across his back as he bent to retrieve it.
OK, so she’d been eager to get it started.
‘I wasn’t the one who couldn’t open the condom packet because of having the shakes so bad.’
There was nothing she could say to that so she went for the silent, avoid-eye-contact approach.
He stepped back towards her as she sat on the edge of the table. ‘I wasn’t the one screaming the house down.’
Now that was below the belt. She looked away from the rippling muscles on show and swallowed back the desire. Let icy anger trickle in.
‘Come on. You were all over me.’
Well, of course she was. He was a god. He had the body of an Olympian and the technique of a master. She’d been weak just by looking and conquered with the first kiss. She had to pull back now because he was never going to be reciprocating her kind of stupidity. Once only. No analysis.
He took her silence in the way she intended. ‘Never again?’
She shook her head.
‘We’ve satisfied your curiosity and once was enough?’
She nodded.
He took another step forward and ran his finger from her neck to her breast—and she couldn’t control the tremor. ‘How long has it been?’
Oh, so he thought that was relevant? She refused to look at him. Maybe it was. Maybe that was why she felt so in danger of emotional investment. Honestly, she’d been without for so long even she could hardly remember.
‘That long, huh?’ A little laugh escaped him—whisker of humanity. That it was amusement at her expense made her mad. He ran his finger over her tightly shut lips, teasing them. ‘You know, you’re not so good with manners, Lucy. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to mind your “p”s and “q”s?’
She threw him a vile look. His smile faded and the mask of indifference that took its place was much better than hers had been—probably because it was genuine.
‘So we haven’t broken through your male-bravado layer. Maybe we never will. Whatever.’
He strolled from the pool table with casual ease. ‘Come on, let’s go.’ He collected his scattered clothing along the way.
She stood up and stared after him. Deflated. Well, she’d done it. Had she been hoping for more of an argument from him? Or wanting him to say, ‘No, babe, that was fantastic, we’ve got to do it again’? At least offer some clue to his thoughts? He was shut up tighter than a twenty-year-old jar of pickled peppers. She watched as he pulled on his boxers, then felt irritated as a feeling of loss hit her when his body was hidden from her again.
He pulled on the trousers but held his sodden shirt in his hand. ‘We’ll share a cab.’
Panic surged as a new threat
