Page 201 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

Her lip curled. ‘I thought you were on the record for not taking advantage of women,’ she said tightly.

He frowned. ‘I don’t take advantage of women.’

Her eyes narrowed but the stupid thing was she believed him.

Yes, he was taking advantage of the situation but there was a pragmatism to his thought process that she understood. He needed a partner, a woman on his arm who could be relied upon to smile and gaze up at him adoringly and then walk away afterwards without a murmur of complaint and in a weird but logical way she fitted that remit.

Even more weirdly she had often thought how useful it would be to have a man like that to hand.

Since Noah, she had been single and celibate. She’d tried various dating apps but she was always on edge, constantly looking for the signs that she had missed with him because she couldn’t trust them, or herself. Couldn’t let them get close or allow things to get too deep. But there were times when it would be helpful or even just more fun to have a partner of sorts. Someone she could meet for breakfast or to take to weddings or even the occasional party. Someone who was calm and kind and intelligent, who would dance with her and laugh with her without expecting more. Someone who wouldn’t try to curtail and control her when she wanted to move on.

Because she had to keep moving. Keeping one step ahead was the only way to stay safe, and it had worked just fine until today.

Feeling Tiger’s gaze, she lifted her chin. ‘Am I not a woman?’ she said crisply.

She instantly wished she hadn’t said anything because his eyes locked with hers, then moved over her face. Slowly. Then dropped again to the tiny pulse beating at the base of her throat roaming downwards over her quivering body, not missing a detail.

The atmosphere in the office was suddenly so taut that it felt as if it would shatter at any moment.

‘Yes, you are,’ he said slowly, and she felt her body shiver to attention, breasts suddenly and inexplicably heavy, a bud of heat pulsing between her legs.

Behind him the walls of his office seemed to be losing shape and that thing, that twitching, staticky golden thread between them that she had been pretending not to feel since walking into his office for the first time this morning, snapped taut.

Her heart was running free like a herd of wild horses.

‘If there’s nothing else,’ she said after a moment, shifting her weight from one foot to the other like a boxer squaring up to her opponent, because that was what he was. She was clear about that. ‘I’ll just get my things.’

She half expected him to move but he didn’t and, trying her hardest to ignore him, she reached past him for her bag, only, because she was intent on not touching him, her balance was off centre and she teetered sideways.

His hand snaked out so quickly she didn’t see it move, just felt it as he caught her, her breath snatching in her throat as his arm curled around her waist, pulling her upright with such force that she found herself pinned against his warm, unyielding body.

For a moment, she couldn’t process the feeling of him, the heat, the hardness. It was too much.

Except it wasn’t.

Her fingers curled into his shirt. She wanted more. More heat. More hardness. More of him—

And that was a shock because she didn’t like people touching her, didn’t like to be touched.

Until now.

‘Sydney.’ The hoarseness of his voice as he said her name arrowed through her, kicking up sparks inside her so that she felt singed, and the heat of his hand was telling her things about herself she had never known, making her want things—

Her legs were softening, she was melting inside and she reached out to steady herself.

‘Ouch!’

She winced. Her elbow had connected with something and a crash resounded through the cavernous office, yanking her out of her trance-like state.

What the—?

‘Is everything okay in there, Mr McIntyre?’ The man’s voice sounded distant, as if she were dreaming it. But this wasn’t a dream, she was here in Tiger’s office, his chest pressing into hers, the hard shape of his thigh pushing between hers.

Only how could that be?

Tiger was her enemy, but searching inside herself she could feel nothing like loathing or disgust. Instead, her body felt taut and achy and unfulfilled because his hard, muscular chest was still temptingly within touching distance and as he moved her fingers tightened in his shirt of their own accord.

She could feel his gaze pinning her to the floor. She glanced down and saw the lamp from his desk rolling in slow, lopsided circles on the polished concrete floor. Beside it her bag lay on its side, the contents fanned out around it.

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