Page 51 of The Boss

“So you choose to run a gallery instead? Wow, why don’t you live a little?” Her sarcasm fell on deaf ears as his smile broadened.

“I’m going back to what I love best, getting my hands dirty in the thick of a dig.”

Feeling like a prized dummy for jumping to conclusions, and for giving him grief when he didn’t deserve it, she mumbled, “I’m happy for you.”

Stepping into her personal space, he ran a hand lightly up her arm. “Aren’t you going to ask me what this has to do with you?”

“No.”

She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out as his hand slipped into hers, his thumb slowly caressing her palm in small circles.

“Fine, I’ll tell you anyway. You said you wouldn’t go for a guy like me? Well, I’m going to prove you wrong. Hopefully, this place is the first step in showing you that.”

“You think by mingling the stuff we do for a living I’ll change my mind?”

She shook her head, hating how impressed she was by the effort he’d gone to, how tempted she was to renege on her previous stance.

But she couldn’t. Even if he’d made a career choice for the better, it didn’t mean he’d stop pushing her for more emotional commitment if they picked up where they left off.

“This place doesn’t change a thing.”

His cool expression faltered for the first time since she’d arrived, the scar above his right eye twitching ever so slightly. “You’re scared.”

“Of what? You?” She forced a laugh and wrenched her hand out of his, needing space before she leaned into him and wiped the worry off his face with a kiss she so desperately wanted to deliver.

“Of us. Of a relationship. Of how damn good we could be together given half a chance.”

Every tiny arrow of truth he shot at her found its mark, embedding in her heart and rendering her speechless with the pain of it.

Balling her hands, she tugged her bag in front of her, knowing it would prove useless as shield if he touched her again.

“This is irrelevant. You’re going away and I’m not the sit at home and knit type while I wait for you to drop in whenever you’re in the neighborhood.”

“But you wouldn’t have to wait at home for me.” Thrusting a hand into his back pocket, he pulled out a slimline black folder and handed it to her. “Here. This should clear up a few more of your preconceptions.”

Flipping open the folder, she stared at the airline ticket, destination Rio de Janeiro, more confused than ever when she spied her name in the ‘passenger’ box.

Her gaze flew to his, hating the crazy out of control feeling swamping her while his calm demeanor remained unruffled. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

“We’re alike, you and me. We’re adventurers. We like to live each day as it comes. We’re spontaneous. I’m all the things you are even if you don’t want to believe it for fear of getting too close.”

Damn, he was good. He knew exactly how she was feeling, how she’d felt from the start. By trying to convince herself they were nothing alike, she could hold him at bay.

But deep down she’d known the truth all along.

She loved his adventurous side.

She loved his spontaneity.

She loved—no, she couldn’t—liked him.

“Want some proof? I want you to travel with me to South America. I want you to give us a chance. I want a relationship with you. Quite simply, I want it all.”

Before she could move he captured her face between his hands and crushed his mouth to hers, the kiss a startling combination of heat, passion and desperation, a soul-drugging kiss designed to bewitch, bother and bewilder.

And she was definitely all three, her mind shutting down the instant he deepened the kiss, his tongue eagerly searching out hers, his lips softening, his hands leaving her face to slide down her torso and cup her butt, drawing her firmly against him.

She knew this would have to stop, would have to be the last kiss they ever shared, so she gave herself over to the bliss of the moment, taking as well as giving, savoring every sigh, every caress, imprinting it on her brain to be resurrected at will.

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