Page 19 of The Rules of Their Red-Hot Reunion

‘You are an intensely frustrating man, Kildare,’ Aisha told him, pushing her hair back with both her hands.

‘So I’ve been told,’ Pasco replied, keeping his tone easy and his hands in his pockets.

He sat down on the hunter-green tufted leather camelback sofa he presumed came from the manor house. He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.

‘I have fifteen minutes. Talk.’

Aisha looked at him as if he’d grown six misshapen heads. ‘You have got to be kidding me! I need hours and hours of your time!’

‘Fifteen minutes is what you are getting.’ He glanced at his watch and mock-grimaced. ‘Thirteen now.’

Aisha’s hand curled around the stapler and he hoped she wasn’t going to throw it at his head. Her lips moved in what he was sure was a curse and he relaxed a fraction when she released her grip on the heavy-duty stapler. Glaring at him, she reached for her tablet and tapped it, her luscious lips flat with annoyance.

‘That was the supplier of the commercial refrigerators. The prices are set to rise and if we want delivery at the old prices, we have to place an order immediately.’

Pasco forced himself to concentrate. He’d recently come across a new supplier with advanced technology, and he wanted to explore that option. ‘I’m still investigating other options.’

Aisha rested her butt on the edge of her desk—wide, old, a bit battered—and glowered at him. She wore a navy jumpsuit teamed with a sunshine-yellow jacket, but the happy colour was totally at odds with her scowling face. ‘I gave you this information ten days ago, Kildare!’

He grinned at her growly voice. ‘And I’m working on it. Next?’

Hand on stapler again. If he got out of here without stitches, he’d call himself fortunate. ‘I received a portfolio containing sketches of the interior decor. We need to decide on a look, especially if you want custom-made furniture and a custom-made bar.’

Fair point. He nodded. ‘I’ll take the portfolio when I leave, and I promise I’ll give you feedback by the end of the week.’

Aisha didn’t look convinced, and he honestly couldn’t blame her. ‘You do know that today is Friday, right? That today is the end of the week?’

‘Technically, the end of the week is on Sunday.’

His pithy comment resulted in a low, sexy growl. He hadn’t set out to annoy Aisha, but he enjoyed her in-his-face exasperation. She’d been a lot more accommodating as his wife and, if he was being honest here, a bit of a pushover. Grown-up Aisha was tough, feisty and he was as mentally attracted to her as he was physically.

That wasn’t good news.

Pasco stood up, walked over to her and stopped a foot from her, briefly closing his eyes as her lovely scent hit his nostrils. He wanted to bury his nose in her neck, between her breasts, to get a full hit of her perfume.

Liar—he wanted far more than just to smell her scent.

Pasco plucked her tablet from her grasp and looked down at her neatly typed, bulleted list on the screen. There were still fifteen or so items they still needed to discuss and, dammit, he’d never be able to do justice to her list in a couple of minutes. She was right, she needed hours and hours of his time. He couldn’t afford to give it to her, not when he was holding on to his control by the thinnest of strands.

‘Email me this document,’ he instructed her, wincing at his rough voice.

‘I have! Numerous times!’ Aisha retorted, eyes flashing. ‘Pasco, you are making this a hundred times more difficult than it has to be. I’ve set up a fine-dining restaurant before—just step back and let me handle it. You don’t have the time, don’t seem that interested in it—’

‘God. You are lovely.’

She blinked, unsure she’d heard him correctly. ‘What?’

He wasn’t quite sure where the words, so totally unrelated to their conversation, came from, but they couldn’t be contained. Because, God, she was. Gorgeous, that was. With her eyes flashing with irritation and her pursed mouth, she was the embodiment of a warrior princess.

‘Your skin is flawless and your scent drives me insane,’ Pasco muttered.

Surprise flashed in her eyes, along with a hint of pleasure. ‘Thank you, but we were talking about...’

Her words faded away, and all he could think about was that he had to have her mouth under his, his hands on her soft, warm, fragrant skin. He saw desire in her eyes, watched her mouth part, and her tongue darted out to touch her bottom lip. It was obvious she’d lost her train of thought and he was glad he wasn’t the only one descending into madness. Aisha sighed, took a step closer to him and it was all the encouragement he needed. He dipped his head slowly, giving her enough time to pull back, and then his lips met hers.

He’d thought he wanted hot and fast, sexy and strong, but he surprised himself by gentling his kiss, skimming his lips across hers in a barely there movement. He felt Aisha tense and he waited for her response, fully expecting her to push him away. But instead of her hands slapping his chest, her mouth softened, her sigh hit his lips and she lifted her hand to curl her fingers around the back of her neck. She stood up on her tiptoes to push her mouth against his, sliding her tongue into his mouth.

Yes...this.

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