LITMIR.BIZ

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a thin rosy line. Her nonanswer said more than words.

      Frustration locked his vocal cords, making speech impossible. He sucked in a calming breath, keenly aware he was venturing into something that was none of his business. If he had an ounce of sense, he’d back off and let her deal with whatever mess she’d stepped in. Unfortunately for him, below his irritation buzzed a hornet of disquiet. He ducked the pesky emotion the way he’d dodge the stinging insect, but it darted around with relentless persistence.

      “Do you need help?” He wrenched the offer free of his better judgment. The ramifications of involving himself in her troubles were bound to bite him in the …

      “No.” Her clipped response matched his offer in civility and warmth.

      They glared at each other. Two mules with their heels dug in.

      He should be glad she’d turned him down. Instead, her refusal made him all the more determined to interfere.

      “Stop being so stubborn. Let me help you. How much do you owe?”

      Her eyes never wavered from his, but she blinked twice in rapid succession. “I don’t need your help.”

      “But I need things to run smoothly. I can’t afford for you to be distracted by money problems. I assume that’s what you’ve been dealing with on your extended lunch breaks.”

      “I’ve got everything under control.”

      “That’s not the way it sounded just now.” Max shoved away from the door and stalked in her direction. He had no idea what he planned to do when he reached her. Something idiotic, no doubt, like take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.

      The scent of her filled his nostrils. Some sort of nonfloral fragrance that made him think of clean sheets bleached by the sun. He was assailed by the image of her remaking the bed in their beach bungalow after their frantic lovemaking had ripped the sheets from the mattress.

      His irritation faded. “You sounded upset.”

      Her eyes widened at whatever note of concern she heard in his voice. “I’m not going to let you help me.”

      Damned stubborn fool.

      He caught her arm and pulled her across the gap between them. She came without resistance, her lips softening and parting as a rush of air escaped her. He wanted to sample those lips. Were they as pliant and intoxicating as ever?

      “How are you going to stop me?” he demanded, cupping the back of her head to hold her still.

      He dropped his head and claimed her mouth, swallowing her tart answer. He expected resistance. They’d been dancing around this moment for almost a week. The shoving match of his will against hers had inflamed his appetite for a similar battle between the sheets.

      She moaned.

      Her immediate surrender caught him off guard. It took him a second to change tactics, to stop taking and coax her instead to open to his questing kiss. She tasted like fruit punch, but went to his head like a Caribbean rum cocktail.

      Long fingers darted into his hair. Her muscles softened. The flow of her lean lines against his frame was like waves on a beach, soothing, endlessly fascinating. With his eyes closed, the surf roaring in his ears, he remembered how it felt to hold her in his arms.

      In a flash, all the memories of her that he’d locked away came back. Every instant of their time together played through his mind. His heart soared as he remembered not just the incredible sex, but the soul-baring connection they’d shared.

      Then came her leaving. The ache that consumed him. His destructive anger.

      Max broke off the kiss. Chest heaving, he surveyed the passion-dazed look in her azure eyes. Her high color. The flare of her nostrils as she scooped air into her lungs. He felt similarly depleted of oxygen. Surely that was the reason for his lightheadedness.

      “That was a mistake,” he said, unable to let her go.

      Rachel took matters into her own hands. She shifted her spine straight and pushed on his chest. His fingers ached as she slipped free.

      “That’s supposed to be my line,” she said, tugging her jacket back into order.

      He inclined his head. “Be my guest.”

      Max retreated to the couch. Resettling his tie into a precise line down the front of his shirt, he laid his arm over the back of the couch and watched Rachel battle back from desire. She recovered faster than he’d hoped.

      “That was a mistake.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leveled a narrow look his way. “One that won’t be repeated.”

      “You misunderstand me,” he said. “The mistake I referred to was letting the kiss happen here.”

      “What do you mean here? There’s no place else it’s going to happen.”

      He hit her with an are-you-kidding expression. “You’re crazy if you think this thing between us is going to die out on its own.”

      “It will if you stop fanning the flames.”

      He had to fight from smiling at her exasperated tone. “Impossible. You set me on fire every time I get within twenty feet of you.”

      “I’m flattered.”

      Was she really? Her tight lips told a different story. “Don’t be. I’m sure I get to you the same way.” He plowed on, not giving her time to voice the protests bubbling in her eyes. “It’s just a chemical reaction between us. Something ageless and undeniable. We can burn it out, but I don’t see it just fizzling out.”

      “I really don’t have the energy for this,” she groused.

      “Good. Stop fighting me and conserve your energy. I have a much better use for it.”

      Her arms fell to her sides. “Max, please be reasonable.”

      She’d stooped to pleading. He had her now.

      “When have you ever known me to be reasonable?”

      That wrung a grimace out of her. “Good point.” She inhaled slow and deep; by the time the breath left her body, she’d changed tactics. “What’d you have in mind?” she questioned, retreating into humor. “A quickie in the copy room?” Pulling out her smart phone, she plied it like a true techno geek. “My schedule clears a bit at three. I can give you twenty minutes.”

      Max cursed. He should have anticipated she’d use humor to avoid a serious conversation. “I’ll need more than twenty minutes for what I have in mind.”

      “You want more than twenty minutes,” she corrected him, letting her thick southern accent slide all over the words. “You probably don’t need more than …” She paused and peered at him from beneath her lashes. “Ten?”

      Max rose from the couch and prowled her way. She turned her back as he stepped into her space. He loomed over her in order to peer at her phone’s screen. So, she wanted to mess with him. Two could play at this game. A minute quiver betrayed her reaction to his proximity. Tension drained from his body. The chemistry between them was textbook and undeniable. His palms itched to measure her waist, reacquaint themselves with her breasts.

      “I wasn’t so much thinking of my needs as yours,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “I know how much you like it when I take my time.”

      She sized him up with a sideways glance. “I thought this was the sort of thing you were trying to avoid doing with your assistant.”

      Max shook his head. “I was trying to avoid losing my freedom in one of your matchmaking schemes.”

      “You were trying to avoid marriage?” She slipped the phone back into its cradle at her waist. “Or falling in love?”

      “Both.”

      “Because they don’t always go hand in hand, you know.”

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