her chin and slowly, with delicate pressure, he rubbed the tip of it back and forth over her lips. They felt dry and full and needy. What she’d give for a drink right now—a drink straight from his mouth.
His slow, delicious, tormenting caresses didn’t stop. Just one finger, cruising the contours of her lips and she couldn’t look away from the promise of passion in his eyes. She forgot where they were, the low hum of the airplane faded to nothing—only conscious of the sound of her own breathing and the intensity of his attention.
To her equal dismay and pleasure he moved his finger from her mouth, running it down the length of her throat, circling around the hollow at the base of it. Then he slid it first one side, then the other, to smooth over her collarbones.
She wanted to say something, but couldn’t think what. Couldn’t think at all. His gaze dropped, breaking the stare, and the corners of his mouth lifted into that smile that she half loathed, half loved. And his finger went lower, right down the centre of her breastbone. He flicked to one side and with slow deliberation circled around her nipple.
‘This is why,’ he repeated softly.
She looked down and discovered a bra wasn’t necessary when James paid attention to her breasts. He had a better effect than any support or surgery ever could. She could feel the way they’d swollen and lifted, tightening at his touch. Now, in her thin top, her nipples were clearly visible—peaks jutting out, begging for attention. They were so hard it hurt.
She looked back at his sardonic expression and realised that he was still in control. While only the slightest of touches had had her almost on her knees wanting more, he was sitting back—the amused antagonist. She wanted him to be as affected as she was.
She pushed his hand away and sat up sharply. ‘It’s the air-conditioning.’ She inserted as much frost as possible into her reply. ‘Planes. I’m always cold on them.’
His laugh was warm and inside she softened in response. She responded the way she did to everything he did—uncontrollably.
‘Really?’ he teased. ‘Then why are you so hot here?’ His fingers traipsed leisurely across her brow. His voice dropped even lower, a lover’s whisper. ‘Where else are you hot, princess?’
She stared into eyes that were dark and devastating. She knew she was sinking into them. Her body melting; if he kissed her again she’d lose it.
The sexual attraction was like a third force—there was her, there was him, and there was this thing between them—drawing her closer, ever closer.
And she was hot everywhere. Was it the same for him? Couldn’t be—or he wouldn’t have been able to stop so easily last time.
James was making a claim. But he wasn’t relinquishing control—not of himself or of the situation. It made him a challenge she wasn’t sure she had the strength to pass on.
But he was her boss. And there was something else about James that put her even more on alert. Partly, it was the sheer strength of that physical attraction, but partly it was because she had the feeling he’d see right through her if she let him.
What would he see? Anything? It was strangely important to her that he think well of her. Stupid, when so few people in authority like him did. So, for now, she’d retreat. Laugh the whole thing off with some sarcasm. ‘Do you always try to sleep with your secretaries?’
He sat back, obviously amused. ‘Only the ones above average height, with dark hair and who aren’t afraid to bite back.’
She pretended to think for a bit. ‘Maria in Accounts would suit.’
‘Maria in Accounts has a husband and two children. That would be messy. I never do messy.’
‘Really? What do you do, then?’
‘Start it simple, keep it physical, end it clean and final.’
She bit the inside of her cheek. That was honesty from him, then—short and to the point and now she knew where she stood. ‘And you’re thinking of starting it with me?’
‘Sweetheart, you know we’ve already started.’
Yeah, but it didn’t seem that simple to her.
‘It is going to happen, you know.’ His eyes were lasers—truth seekers.
‘That certain bet?’
‘Dead certain—remember?’ He nodded slowly. ‘I’ve finally accepted that.’
‘Gosh, you sound so thrilled about it,’ she said with faux jollity, stung by the comment. Then she glared. ‘It’s not like you’re the only one with the decision to make.’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t already decided.’
Her jaw dropped at that.
‘I’m not being arrogant.’ He pushed her chin back up. ‘I’m being honest.’ He didn’t look that happy about it. ‘Besides, it’s a little bigger than the both of us, isn’t it?’ He spoke lightly, his eyes roaming over her mouth. ‘The want.’
Her lips could almost feel the caresses from his gaze. It took a moment for her to hear his next softly spoken words.
‘And you’ve been a little cautious about it too, haven’t you?’
Of course.
Then he offered a solution for both of them. ‘If we give in to it, it will go away.’
Her chest tightened. So he wanted it to go away. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. But he was—just as she was attracted to him. He wanted to work it through and be rid of it. She suppressed the shiver that ran through her body—a mix of desire and of despair.
He unclipped his safety belt, got a couple of soft wool blankets from the locker and sat again. Reached across and unclipped her belt too.
‘Let’s get you comfortable, hmm?’ He spread one blanket out over her and the other over himself. The two overlapped. ‘Can’t have you getting cold.’ He smiled, oblivious to the mix of hurt and heat she felt inside.
But as he drew closer it was the heat that spread, the desire to have him even closer still. His eyes were huge and seemed to read hers, seemed to know exactly what she was thinking—because they reflected it.
‘You warm enough?’ It was a whisper, spoken as his lips lowered. Still not quite close enough. And she was so focused on them, on willing them nearer, that she couldn’t manage to give the answer that was undoubtedly obvious anyway.
‘Princess?’
She lifted her chin and tasted his smile as she pressed her lips to his.
She meant to play it cool. She meant to stay in control. She meant to hide just how hot she was—how hot she thought he was—and try to find out how affected he was. But her mouth parted hungrily without her consent. Welcoming his wickedly teasing tongue once more, wanting him to work it the way he had the other day—and then some. His hands were firm on her jaw, fingers spread, holding her face up to his. Broad palms and long fingers meant he easily cupped her chin and sent fingers down the length of her throat. In a second the kiss was hot and deep and she was shaking with the joy of having him back inside—she wanted more of him inside.
Too soon he lifted his head. He studied her. She couldn’t hide the way her breathing was fast and out of kilter.
‘Not getting too excited, there, are you, princess?’ he said, half-smile in place. ‘It was just a kiss.’
Nothing of the sort. He knew it. She knew it. He was just proving how hollow her words of the other night had been. But he couldn’t blame a woman for wanting to salvage a little pride, could he? Not when he’d been the one to freeze over faster than a raindrop in Antarctica.
Suddenly she feared that being with James could somehow strip her of all pride—and dignity. But just as the fear sent a chill through her,