‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, still a little breathless from the impact he was having on her. ‘It was an accident.’
His mesmerising eyes glinted with wry amusement. ‘Of course it was.’
‘The perils of an uneven floor.’
‘A dodgy stool, I thought you said.’
‘It’s a dangerous combination.’
‘And there was me deliberating over whether to intervene.’
‘How would you have done that?’ she asked, immediately envisaging him stripping off his shirt and squaring up to her former admirer, all rippling muscles and simmering outrage on her behalf. Which was bizarre when, firstly, she was a financial auditor with a keen eye for numerical detail but next to no imagination and, secondly, she had nevereverneeded rescuing.
‘I hadn’t thought that far.’
That was a shame. ‘Lucky, then, that I can take care of myself.’
‘Not so lucky for Pete.’
‘I gave him fair warning.’
‘More than enough,’ he agreed. ‘His lines were appalling. He needs to learn to take no for an answer.’ He ran his gaze over her face, her hair, her body, scorching her like a laser where it lingered. Then he added, with the glimmer of a devastating smile, ‘But I can’t blame him for trying.’
In response to his appreciative scrutiny—somuch more welcome than the leery Pete’s—Ella flushed from head to toe and fizzed with pleasure. ‘Thank you. I think.’
‘I’m Adam.’
Swinging round, he held out his hand and she automatically took it. ‘Ella,’ she said, just about able to recall her name even though tiny shocks were shooting up her arm into her head and short-circuiting her brain.
‘May I replenish your drink?’
He could do anything he wanted with that voice and those eyes. If he reached out and peeled off her dress, right here, right now, she’d be helpless to stop him. In fact, she’d probably tell him to hurry up. And that was concerning for a single-minded control freak who made decisions with her head, not her heart. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so instantly and comprehensively attracted to a man. Ever.
‘That’s very straightforward of you,’ she said, boldly checking out the perfection of his masculine features and the impressive breadth of his shoulders while the heat whipping around inside her coalesced into a puddle of lust that settled low in her abdomen. ‘Don’t you want to tell me that even though you’re not a photographer you can picture us together?’
‘No,’ he said, his voice dropping an octave. ‘Although I can.’
‘How?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
‘I do.’
He leaned in and murmured, ‘It involves a large bed and no clothes.’
God. He didn’t beat about the bush. If she’d had any doubt about the mutuality of the attraction, it had just been pulverised. Her mouth dried. Her entire body throbbed. This man could invade her personal space any day of the week, she thought as she exhaled slowly and swallowed hard. ‘Tell me more.’
‘I’m still working on the details,’ he said, drawing back just enough for her to be able to see that his pupils were so dilated little of the blue remained. ‘But if you’re after a line, I’m more than happy to admit that I was feeling a little off today until you just turned me on. Perverse, I know, but there it is. You’re beautiful and fierce. It’s another dangerous combination.’
If anything was dangerous, it was him. She’d always enjoyed this dance, the flirty back and forth and the heavy looks—until the lousy experience with her ex had meant that she’d had to focus on rebuilding her career to the exclusion of all else. But what was going on here was on a whole other level.
This man, who was gazing at her with such heat that she felt as though she could catch fire any moment now, was unleashing that reined-in power she’d sensed earlier. He wasn’t bothering with a slow-burning build-up. He was pouring petrol on the bonfire and setting it alight. Deliberately or not, he was killing her brain cells, one by one, and unravelling the control she’d always considered rock solid.
They’d only been talking for five minutes, but already she could visualise them writhing around together in that bed. Her breasts were tingling. White-hot desire was pouring through her with such strength that her inhibitions were fast becoming history. She wanted to leap onto his lap and seal her mouth to his while yanking his shirt aside and putting her hands on his bare chest.
It was insane. Incomprehensible. And to someone who’d had to forswear fun for the last twelve months to concentrate on her career and had sorely missed intimacy of the steamy, sweaty kind, it was absolutely thrilling.
‘What were you drinking?’