enjoy it she did. Pretty soon her hands were unclenching from Daniel’s T-shirt, exploring his rather fine chest, reaching up to pull him closer so she could really lose herself in him. Suddenly, she was claiming him back. And, damn, if that didn’t just turn him on more. He moved his hands to her waist and for a second she thought he was going to lift her up and sit her on the rail. She grabbed him tighter, hoping he’d remember where they were, just how far she could fall if he lost concentration and let go.
She could feel him starting to lift her, his hands tightening around her ribs. She stiffened, and her eyes flew open, just in time to see him cock an eyelid. He pulled away, a decidedly wicked smile on his face, looking far more pleased with himself than a man had a right to after just such a stunt.
Even though she was pressing into him rather than leaning back over the railing, she still clutched onto him. At least she did until another noise filtered through her consciousness. She turned her head, slightly dazed, to find a small group of people on the ground staring up at them. Some of them were wearing the distinctive blue polo shirts with Kew’s embroidered logo.
Drat. She’d forgotten they’d moved out of the cover of their secluded little corner.
Smiling nervously, she lifted her hand and gave them a little wave. They responded with a round of applause and a couple of wolf whistles.
She turned back to Daniel, keeping her eyes on his chest, and carefully smoothed his T-shirt flat with her palms before gathering the courage to look up at him.
‘I thought the plan was to keep it discreet,’ she said shakily.
Daniel’s grin became even broader. Damn the man for enjoying this!
‘Plans change,’ he said, not in the least bit repentant. And then he stepped away and made tracks to the spiral staircase, whistling as he went.
Chloe walked forwards and rested her forehead against the misty glass on the other side of the gallery. Not only had she not kept her distance from Daniel Bradford, but she’d actually proposed spending more time with him. Alone. In what messed up universe did that idea make sense?
She pressed her fingertips to her lips. She’d never had much self-control where Daniel had been concerned, and now look where it had got her. She’d made herself a trap, and she had no idea how she was going to climb out of it.
He found her in the orchid nursery the next morning, working on a plant she’d been growing from a seed that had lost its label during a collections trip. They needed to confirm what species it was, but until the plant flowered it was impossible to know. This one was stubbornly refusing. But Chloe knew all about being stubborn, didn’t she?
The slight hesitation in her movement told him she’d heard him coming, but she carried on with her work. Not ignoring him, just finishing what she was doing. Indifferent, almost.
When she was ready she put the pot down and cocked an eyebrow. ‘Well, if it isn’t Indiana. Here to pound your chest?’
Daniel grinned at her. The way he was feeling this morning, a little chest pounding wouldn’t be amiss. ‘Don’t know what you mean.’
‘That’s what that kiss was about, right? Putting on a good show, some macho attempt to mark me as yours?’ She shook her head. ‘All those jungle plants you work with must have activated your dormant monkey brain.’
Ouch. He was used to her being witty; he just hadn’t realised she could be so cutting with it. But he liked cutting. It was way better than polite and impervious.
‘Pretty much,’ he said, looking her up and down. Today she was the smartest and slickest he’d ever seen. The pencil skirt had made a reappearance, along with a dark pink top and the trademark red lips.
He was lying, though. He hadn’t had a plan. Not of any shape or any kind. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted to, because she’d been driving him crazy for weeks and he hadn’t been able not to.
Since Valentine’s Day he’d been at the mercy of the situation not of his making and he hated that. And, while Chloe’s idea had merit, it felt an awful lot like being rescued. He hated that more. If anyone was going to be doing the rescuing it was going to be him.
So when the urge to kiss her had hit, he’d gone with it, had taken back control in one swift and delicious move. He wasn’t prepared to regret it. Not after the way she’d responded to him. That had been no play-acting for the audience below. She’d been right there with him, dragging him deeper.
Indifferent? Yeah, right.
Chloe Michaels might do a good job of painting it that way on the surface, but underneath she was as hungry for him as he was for her. She just didn’t want to admit it. Daniel didn’t really care why. Not now he knew it was game on again—and that he’d had the first victory.
‘Well, I’m glad that you got whatever it was out of your system,’ she said starchily and turned her attention back to her orchid.
He moved a little closer. ‘No action replays?’
She pursed her lips and scowled at him. ‘I know the London press thinks you’re God’s gift, Indiana, but I think it’s gone to your head. You’re starting to believe your own hype.’
Daniel just chuckled. He so wasn’t. But Chloe was acting as if he were as sexually neutral as that plant she was tending. He had a point to prove.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘If you don’t like my idea, we’ll scrap the whole thing. Good luck with the next raincoat flasher, though.’
‘I didn’t say I was backing out.’
Far from it.
‘Well, then. We keep it on my terms,’ she said. ‘Strictly platonic. No more stunts like the one in the Palm House yesterday.’
‘What if you cave and end up kissing me senseless?’
She made a scoffing noise. ‘Not going to happen.’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever you say. But if you give me the signals, I’m not going to ignore them.’
She let out a dry laugh. ‘You are so big-headed! And so wrong.’
He so wasn’t. But this was what he’d been waiting for from her. This was all part of the fun, the push and pull of the chase, letting her think she was in charge, when actually he was reeling her in bit by bit. She’d change her tune soon enough.
‘How about that little Italian restaurant for our next outing?’ he said.
Chloe’s expression reminded him of how his grandmother used to look at him over the top of her glasses. Even that made him want to whistle again. Oh, he was going to have so much fun with her. She was going to be worth every bit of this torturous wait.
Because he’d realised what he’d told Alan at the pub was true. There was more than one way to hunt. Chloe obviously didn’t respond to the more direct approach—that only sent her running—so he was going to have to be more clever, more subtle. Just like his plants, he was going to make himself so irresistible to her that she wouldn’t be able to help herself.
He thought of the species of Sarracenia
