Page 203 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

Under control? Heat rose up over her chest to scald her face as she remembered how her skin had seemed to dissolve and fuse with his in those few febrile seconds when his arm had slid around her waist and her body had pressed against his.

There had been no control, no will. She had been a creature of basic and compulsive need, impervious to the danger and absurdity of her actions.

Stalking into the kitchen area, she yanked open the refrigerator door, snatched a can of soda and pressed it against her cleavage. The last thing she had been in that moment was in control. Then again, in some ways it was good that it had happened. Now she knew what he felt like up close and if that was as bad as it got...

Only that was the problem. It hadn’t been bad. On the contrary, it had been the most singularly erotic experience of her life.

Maybe, possibly, probably at some point during this sham relationship they would have to get that close again. Maybe they would even have to kiss but it would be brief, performative, but not in any way passionate. It certainly wouldn’t involve tongues or open mouths because couples didn’t kiss like that in public except in the movies.

And she had no intention of ever being that near to Tiger McIntyre in private again.

Staring at his laptop, Tiger frowned. That was the third time he had read that page of the document on screen and he still couldn’t remember a word of it. It made no sense. He was interested in the research, respected the academics who had authored the report, but for some reason it was hard to stay focused. His mind kept drifting off.

He slammed the screen shut and shoved the laptop across the desk so hard that it collided with the lamp and he had to grab at it to stop it falling onto the floor for the second time that day.

His body tensed as a memory of the first time reared up inside his head, hazy at the edges but clear and sharp at the centre so that he could see Sydney Truitt’s wide brown eyes and trembling mouth just as if she were standing there in front of him.

Although if that were the case, neither of them would be standing.

He swore under his breath. What the hell was she doing back in his head? Although it wasn’t really a case of her coming back because she had never left.

His phone pinged and, glancing down at it, he felt his shoulders stiffen as he stared down at her signature. So that was that. It was official. The game was afoot.

Except it hadn’t felt like a game when her body had been pressed against his. Remembering the quivering arc of her body and the way her hand had clung to him, he felt his pulse accelerate. He couldn’t think of many games that involved a loss of will and purpose but, in that moment, he had forgotten why she was there and why he was there.

And it had shaken him deep down. Not just the shock of it happening, but that he hadn’t wanted to let go of her.

Of course, it was understandable, he reassured himself. He had reacted without thinking and the anger and frustration and intimacy in his office had created some kind of chain reaction that had blown away his logic and willpower. But he was back in charge now and when he held her in his arms the next time, it would be on his terms, not hers.

He pictured Sydney’s face, that slight uptilt to her chin, a subtle but deliberate challenge to his authority.

In fact, this whole arrangement was going to be on his terms, as Sydney Truitt would soon find out.

CHAPTER FOUR

THATTHOUGHTWASstill front and centre in his head the following morning when he strode down the aisle of his private jet and he felt a ripple of satisfaction as he saw Sydney. She was sitting in one of the cream leather seats, that gorgeous dark red hair pulled up into one of those half-up, half-down hairstyles with a darker red ribbon, her face determinedly turned towards the window.

But she knew he was there. He could tell by the slight stiffening of her shoulders.

No doubt she was annoyed with him because he had deliberately kept her waiting for just under an hour, only rolling out of bed when Stefan, the driver he’d sent to collect Sydney, had called to let him know they had arrived at the airfield.

‘Sorry, darling. I completely forgot the time,’ he lied.

Now she looked up at him, slowly, reluctantly, like a prisoner of war greeting her captor, and he felt a sting of wounded pride because, yes, the alternative was being arrested but, still, he was Tiger McIntyre. Most women fell over their high heels to catch his eye but this one looked at him as if he were something that had crawled out from under a rock.

He dropped down into the seat beside her, enjoying the glint in her narrowed eyes as she moved her legs away in one seamless motion. It was a challenge he couldn’t resist and he caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth, feeling immense satisfaction as he felt her surprise and then anger. Payback, he thought, for the day before. For the night he’d spent tossing restlessly in his bed thanks to the memory of her soft curves and small, stunned face intruding on his sleep.

It was a new experience for him, this incessant pulse of hunger, and one that wasn’t restricted to his dreams, he realised as she angled her body away from his and his eyes followed the movement hungrily. He gritted his teeth. He had no idea why she affected him so. She was a thief and a liar and had yet to show any remorse. By rights he should despise her, and yet he couldn’t remember feeling so out of control with a woman.

It was one of the reasons he’d kept her waiting. To prove that he was the one in charge of both the situation and himself. Unlike his father, he was not going to be buffeted about by his fascination for some random woman.

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ he murmured.

‘No need,’ she said, smiling stiffly. ‘I was perfectly happy sitting here on my own.’

‘That’s what I love about you. Any other woman would be bitching about having to wait but you turn it into a positive,’ he said softly.

‘Excuse me, Mr McIntyre, Ms Truitt.’ It was Carole, one of the stewards. ‘If you could put your seat belts on?’

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