know I’m not.’ He reached across the table and brushed a knuckle across her cheekbone. ‘I was thinking more in the region of a free trade.’
The soft touch and suggestive comment had images of their one night together blasting into Kate’s mind.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said. Could he sense the fireball of need searing her insides? She saw the challenging grin and decided retreat was her only option.
Fumbling with her seat belt, she leapt up and walked to the aeroplane’s window with as much poise as she could manage. Staring at the candyfloss clouds, she tried to even out her breathing. Well, her attempt at classy and businesslike hadn’t exactly been a roaring success.
‘Look at me, Kate.’
She turned to find him standing close. Too close.
‘Why are you sulking?’ he asked, amused and indulgent.
And so much for her grand plan to put him in his place. ‘I’m not.’
‘Sure you are.’ He slid his finger under her chin, lifting her face, then stroked his thumb across her lower lip. ‘The pout’s sexy as hell, you know.’
‘I’m not pouting, either,’ she said, pulling away. ‘This is me looking annoyed.’
‘Yeah?’ He curled his fingers round her nape. Her sex throbbed hot as he got closer still. ‘Then I guess I better annoy you some more,’ he murmured against her lips.
The smart thing to do would have been to push him away. Her mind registered the thought, but then his mouth covered hers, his tongue pressing against her lips, demanding entry— and smart crashed and burned. She let him in on a sigh, her fingers clutching at his shirt.
Why did he have to be such a fantastic kisser?
He dragged her against him. The blatant evidence of his arousal, hard against her belly, had her sanity returning. She wanted his respect, and she wasn’t going to get it if she melted the instant he crooked his finger. The realisation brought the thought of Jill Hawthorne and all his other conquests to mind. She let go, pushed him back.
He dropped his arms. ‘Still sulking?’ he asked mildly, his breathing only slightly uneven. Did the man never lose his cool?
‘I have no intention of becoming one of the herd.’
His brow furrowed. ‘What herd?’
‘How about we start with Jill Hawthorne?’
‘What about Jill Hawthorne?’He looked genuinely stumped.
‘You know, your previous partner in multitasking,’ she announced, getting a good firm grip on her indignation at last.
‘My…?’ His eyebrows shot up and then, to her astonishment, he laughed.
‘It’s good to know you find it funny,’ she snapped. At least he could have the decency to be ashamed of his track record. ‘I bet Jill didn’t.’
‘That’s so cute.’ He took her arms, still chuckling as he rubbed his palms up the thin silk. ‘You’re jealous.’
‘I most certainly am not jealous,’ she said, trying to shove the green-eyed monster back down his hole.
‘Yeah, you are,’ he said. ‘And I think I like it.’ He paused for one last chuckle. ‘But I’ve got to tell you it’s misplaced. Jill and I never multitasked.’
‘You didn’t?’ She would not be glad.
‘I told you already. I don’t sleep with my staff.’
‘But what about me?’
‘You’re the exception to my rule. The one and only exception so far.’
‘Really?’ She would not feel special either.
‘Yeah, really.’ He took her hand and led her back to her seat. ‘But you’re right about one thing.’
‘I am?’
He waited for her to sit down and then sat in his own seat. ‘We should have talked about this before, but I got distracted.’ He gave her a sheepish grin. ‘I always do with you.’
And she absolutely, definitely would not be charmed.
‘Talk about what?’ Kate asked, trying and failing to stifle the warmth spreading up her torso from the gruff intimacy in his voice.
‘Our sexual histories. This is the twenty-first century and it’s the smart thing to do.’
‘Oh,’ Kate exclaimed, not sure what to say. This conversation threatened to be even more dangerous than the last one. And look where that had got her.
‘To put your mind at rest,’ he carried on, in the same supremely confident tone, ‘I always use condoms and I’m not quite as prolific as you think. The last woman I dated was over three months ago and we only lasted one night.’ He gave her a crooked smile. ‘She was nowhere near as distracting as you.’
‘Oh, well, that’s good,’ Kate said, a blush spreading up her neck again. For goodness’ sake, she was not a blusher, but she’d done more blushing in the last few days than the whole rest of her life put together.
He rested his forearm on his knee. ‘So, what about you and Rocastle? Were you sleeping together?’The question sounded casual. A bit too casual.
‘No, we certainly were not.’
‘Good.’ He sat back, looking pleased. ‘Any guy who treats a woman like he did—whether she’s his employee or not—is a jerk.’
‘I know,’ she said, grateful for his support, even though it seemed a bit misplaced. ‘But to be fair to Andrew, he didn’t put nearly as much effort into seducing me as you are.’
‘His loss,’ he said, apparently not taking the hint. ‘So how long had it been for you?’
Kate’s blush intensified. She was not about to tell him her last sexual relationship before him had been well over two years ago. He’d gloat. And it would put her at even more of a disadvantage. ‘I don’t want to answer that question,’ she said, delicately.
‘That long, huh?’ he said, gloating.
Drat, was he a mind reader now, too? ‘Could we please stop talking about this?’
‘Sure,’he said, sounding even more self-satisfied. He picked up her report from the coffee-table. ‘Why don’t you call the flight attendant and organise our lunch while I read this?’
And just like that, they were boss and PA again. Kate should have been overjoyed, but she wasn’t. The abrupt turnaround provided more proof, if proof were needed, that he was the one in charge. He set the agenda for their relationship and she didn’t seem to be able to do a thing about it.
She opened her mouth to speak, to protest his high-handed attitude, when he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and put them on.
He glanced up at her sharp intake of breath. ‘What is it?’
‘You…You wear glasses?’
She’d never been particularly attracted to guys in spectacles before. But, good grief, those piercing green eyes were even more devastating in the slightly nerdy frames. They made him look vulnerable. Which was an illusion, of course, but a very sexy illusion nonetheless.
‘I’m near-sighted,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘I don’t wear my contacts on the plane because of the dry air.’
‘I see.’ She recrossed her legs, tugged her skirt down over her knees.
Get a grip, woman. Stop picturing yourself ripping his clothes off and ravishing him in nothing but his glasses right this instant.
She stabbed the intercom button and arranged their refreshments with