For once, he actually did as I requested. He rolled away, then rose off the bed and walked to the window. His back was to me as he stared out into the dark night, but his shoulders moved up and down as ragged breaths rocked through him. As if he was barely holding on to his temper. As if he was too full of rage to even look at me, let alone be near me.
Too.
Freaking.
Bad.
Frankly, I didn’t care what he was feeling. The rageIwas feeling in that moment was more than enough to override every warning sign that told me to run headlong in the opposite direction. I scrambled to my feet, tugging my silk shorts back into place with as much dignity as I could muster, then stormed in his direction. He turned just as I reached him, the indifferent mask I’d come to know so well firmly in place as he regarded me. He didn’t even duck or dodge as I reached out, planted both hands against his granite-hard chest, and shoved him with all my might. Annoyingly, the impact barely made him rock back on his heels.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” I snarled at the top of my voice. “Or I will make sure you regret the day you were born!”
“Do what?” he asked, infuriatingly calm in the face of my fury.
“You know exactly what! Don’t you dare kiss me to… to…. to punish me or to prove a point!” I glared at him, burning with resentment and rage and more than a little embarrassment. “In fact, don’t kiss meat all! Ever!”
“Funny, you didn’t seem upset about me kissing you when your tongue was in my mouth and you were moaning under my hands. Let me guess — another lapse of sanity?”
“Precisely,” I bit out, turning on my bare heel and storming toward the door so he couldn’t see how flaming red my cheeks were. “I was half-asleep. I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Uh huh. Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you.”
“We’re not finished talking about this.”
“There’s nothing more to discuss!”
“How about us?”
I stumbled over my feet, nearly falling flat on my face. I grabbed the door to keep myself upright. “Us?”
“Us,” he concurred. “You and me.”
“There is no you and me,” I told the door, too chickenshit to turn around and face him.
“Only because every time I try to change that, you run scared.”
“Or maybe because I loathe you with every ounce of my being!”
“Tell that to your nipples, babe.”
I glanced down at my silk tank and, sure enough, my nipples were standing at full attention. I was undeniably turned on, the buzz of arousal in my veins a distracting undercurrent to my wrath at the man standing behind me.
“Leave my nipples out of this,” I seethed. Finally gathering the strength to turn, I pinned him with my iciest glare. “In fact, justleave.”
He didn’t move a muscle. His tone was blunt. Matter-of-fact. As though we were discussing seasonal weather patterns. “Deny it all you want. You’re attracted to me, Gwen.”
“If byattractedyou mean repulsed, annoyed, irritated—” I ignored the hammering of my pulse. “Shall I go on? The list is quite extensive.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is. I’m sure you have a whole stockpile of little lies you tell yourself over and over about just how much you loathe me. I’m sure that’s easier than the alternative, which would be admitting that whenever you see me, your stomach is in knots, your breathing is altered, your body is on fire. Hell, I’m sure you probably even convince yourself, at least some of the time, that your breaths are so short because ofannoyance. But we both know your thighs are shaking with a different sort of frustration. The kind you’re dying for me to satisfy.” He paused, lips twisting in a dark smirk. “Sorry, was that too arrogant? I know how that irks you.”
My heart was pounding double-time. Heat was flushing through my body in a great tide, centering in the pit of my stomach and drifting downward to the very core of my being. I did my best not to clench my thighs together, determined not to prove his point — even if it was true. Iwasattracted to him. But it would be a cold day in hell before I ever owned up to that fact. Especially when he’d used that attraction against me like weapon, to teach me a lesson.
I tossed my head haughtily. “For a private detective, you really are clueless.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” I swallowed. “There’s nothing remotely attractive about your overly-inflated sense of self. If you think otherwise, well, you’ve been fed a line of bullshit. Maybe the string of girls you’ve dated in the past were happy to blow hot air and stroke your—”