Page 17 of Defying Her Arrogant Boss

‘Oh, no,’ she said immediately, shaking her head vehemently. ‘No. No, thanks.’

He picked up his fork and speared a piece with it. Then he held it across the table towards her. ‘Go on. You know you want to.’ His voice was as soft and tempting as the cake. His eyes held the dare.

Staring across at him, she felt the dampened flick of desire flame again. Damn, she shouldn’t have been so greedy. With his arm stretched across the table, in front of Marnie and James, it was impossible for her to refuse. Carefully avoiding contact with his fingers, she took the fork he held and lifted it to her mouth. He was right, it was magnificent, but it did nothing to assuage the hunger that clawed at her lower belly.

He was watching her intently. She handed the fork back, uncomfortably aware of the intimacy of sharing it.

‘Care for some more?’ His voice was low and she couldn’t look away from him as she silently shook her head.

She sucked her lips in and pressed down on them, desperate not to lick them and show the sexual tension she was feeling. But she knew the action showed it anyway; his eyes flickered as answering heat rose.

Marnie and James had fallen silent, and Lissa remembered their presence with a start. ‘Uh, you guys want to try some?’ she asked with pseudo-brightness trying to shake off the intense atmosphere that had descended over the table. Both declined. Lissa looked away, embarrassed.

James left to make a call while Marnie rose at the same time for a trip to the bathroom. Good manners required Lissa remain and keep Rory company as he slowly ate the rest of his torte.

He looked at her, his eyes focussed on her mouth. ‘You have a little cream.’ He raised his hand to his chin.

‘Oh.’ She lifted a hand and wiped at her own.

He smiled. ‘No, you missed it. Here.’ He reached across the table and ran his finger just under her lower lip.

She breathed in sharply and his finger stopped, still pressed against her. She wanted to taste him with her tongue. She parted her mouth to do just that, desperate to lick her lips, to be ready for him. There was a silence. Then he moved his finger again, upwards this time to stroke over her lip and back again. She sat frozen to the spot, melting.

‘Tell me you don’t want me to touch you,’ he dared her softly.

Lissa had several talents, but lying wasn’t one of them. Her eyes flickered and she was silent. He traced her lips again, the lightness of his touch a teasing torment. She wanted more. She wanted his lips on hers. She leaned closer, her eyes trained on his mouth.

‘Lissa?’ he breathed. ‘Do you feel this? Do you?’

The rawness in his voice jerked at her.

‘It’s just sex.’ She pulled back, desperate to retrieve the situation. She thought about blaming the boozy cream, but knew that had more aroma than impact.

He looked across at her, heat and amusement mingling in his gaze. ‘If it’s just sex, why don’t we do something about it?’

She recoiled. Just have a fling? A one-night stand? Go for it like rabbits and get it out of their systems? Again, she was tempted. Damn tempted. She was leaving the country soon—why not have an affair? Gina had suggested she do just that with Karl.

Her heart thundered—too dangerous.

She looked at the table. He reached across to her again and tilted her chin up. She met his eyes, now glowing with heat and something else that she couldn’t define—warmth? Gentleness?

‘Because it’s not just sex?’ he said softly.

Her heart drowned in the knowledge that he was right. This attraction seemed to be more than just physical. Even more reason to say no. ‘It can’t happen, Rory.’

His hand dropped. ‘Not until you say.’

* * *

When they returned to the office and resumed work things had changed. There was a lightening of the atmosphere between them. She had admitted to the attraction that he had so openly referred to earlier. And despite her intention to do nothing about it, it was a secret they shared, a bond between them. Their eyes met with silent laughter when James made one of his outrageous comments. Fingers brushed when they passed paperwork. She knew he watched her as surreptitiously and as often as she watched him. It was a dangerous game but she thought that she could just, just keep a lid on it. Keep things as they were. They had acknowledged the temptation, but that was as far as it would go. For sure.

Before home time she asked him to check some figures she’d inputted into one of the databases.

Standing behind her, he leant over her shoulder, pointing at the screen. She had to forcibly stop herself leaning even closer. She could feel the heat of his body behind her. It would take nothing to lean back against him, to feel him hard against her just as she’d been dreaming, night after night.

He seemed to sense she’d lost her concentration on the work. ‘What shampoo do you use? Your hair smells delicious.’

‘It’s called Esprit de Fleur. You can buy it in the supermarket for five ninety-nine.’ She couldn’t stop the tart reply, a gut defence against his nearness, a way of trying to push him away because if she didn’t, she was in grave danger of pulling him closer—literally, physically, now.

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