Page 4 of Not That Impossible

She subtly played with her hair, she shifted in her seat, she leaned forward. He continued to look straight past her, cutting across the room and into my wide, disapproving eyes.

He jumped when she ran her foot up the inside of his leg.

That tore his attention away from me.

Not for long, though.

He smiled at her and said something that made her shrug and lean back, picking up her glass of white wine. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, set it beside his plate, and got to his feet.

Uh-oh.

The first tickle of doom skated up my spine.

I really hoped he was getting up because it was his turn to go to the toilet.

Nope.

He was definitely heading my way. At a fair clip, too.

His stride was forceful, determined, and he was closing in on me.

For an astonished second, I thought he wasn’t going to stop. I thought he was going to come over here and crush me into the wall.

Soundedamazing.

He just kept coming. To anyone else he probably looked brisk and purposeful. To me? I had an advanced degree in annoying Liam Nash. No, a doctorate. I was a professor of pissing him off.

And he looked at his limit.

He came all the way up to where I was slouching on the bench seat and, since I’d been sitting with my legs comfortably spread, he went right between them. One hand went over my shoulder and gripped the back of the seat. The other went palm flat against the wall.

Liam dropped his head to stare directly down into my wide eyes as I tipped my head back to look up at him looming over me. “What,” he said tightly, “is your problem?”

2

My problem was that the man of my dreams had all but pinned me to my seat and I was only wearing sweatpants, meaning that the effect his proximity had on me would very soon become embarrassingly obvious.

My problem was that Liam was in shirtsleeves. His plain white dress shirt was tucked into a pair of businesslike charcoal trousers, showing his solid and (mostly) flat abdomen. I could smell his body wash (it was divine), and his body heat was already mingling with mine. He’d rolled his sleeves up his strong forearms, and if I turned my head, my cheek would brush against the soft skin of his inner wrist.

My problem was that with Liam this close to me, the whole world fell away, and it took the majority of my higher cognitive abilities with it. Which is why my genius response was to grunt, “Huh?”

“I said,” he forced through gritted teeth, “What is your problem?” He ducked down a fraction lower, and I couldn’t help it.

My gaze dropped to his lips.

“Jasper,” he growled.

Right. “My problem is that you are an arsehole,” I said.

“Yeah? And?”

I gasped in outrage. “My god, thenerveof you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jasper.”

“You just…I can’t believe you’d…right here in front of everyone. Youdick.”

His eyebrows lifted slowly.

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