‘Well, exsqueeze me.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Nothing.’ She didn’t know why she felt stung by his words but she did. ‘You know there’s something just so damned attractive about a man without a sense of humour who is doing something altruistically and doesn’t give a damn.’
Lukas raised both arms and placed his hands on top of the cubicle doorframe and leaned toward her. ‘But I’m not trying to be attractive,’ he said softly.
Eleanore produced a smile worthy of a jackpot winner. ‘Oh, to be as successful as you are,’ she challenged.
His eyes grew hooded as he studied her and Eleanore had to resist the urge to fidget under his intrusive gaze. She knew she was digging at him to cover her awareness of him. An awareness she did not want to feel given that she didn’t even like the man or his seeming lack of values. ‘You have a smart mouth.’
He stared at said smart mouth and she felt her lips tingle. She held perfectly still as if she were a small field mouse waiting for the big tom cat to spring. As if she wanted the big tom cat to spring. ‘Perhaps it needs to be put to better use.’
It took a moment for his remark to register and when it did Eleanore had no idea how to respond. Her mind was fuddled by the heat radiating from his body as he towered over her and it took everything she had just to resist leaning in close enough to touch him. Shocked by a yearning she hadn’t felt before she arched a brow as if she dealt with situations like this all the time.
‘Eating?’ she suggested, trying for lightness but knowing she’d missed by a wide margin when he smiled a slow smile that spoke of pleasure the likes of which she had never known before.
‘Of a sort.’
She took in a slow breath and reminded herself that he was a rampant male chauvinist who had obviously gotten his way for far too long.
‘Or is that what you want, Eleanore?’
The way he said her name—deliberately low and gruff—sent a spill of liquid heat through her pelvis. ‘What I want?’ Somehow she had completely lost the thread of the conversation in the small confines of the cubicle, the heavy, unexpected throb of arousal absorbing her focus.
‘Is all this arguing some sort of foreplay?’
Foreplay! The mere suggestion told her that he knew how much he affected her and she stiffened with raw embarrassment. She pulled the hat from her head, denial hot on her lips. ‘I tend to like the men I engage in foreplay with.’ She said it breezily, as if it was a daily occurrence.
‘Then perhaps you’re missing out. Perhaps you need to engage with someone you feel passionate about rather than someone you merely like.’
Eleanore swallowed heavily. ‘Well, I can assure you that person is not you.’ But even as she said the words she knew they were a lie. Since he’d walked up to her at Glaciers she had been totally aware of him as a virile male in the prime of his life. It was all she could do to concentrate on anything else.
He lowered his arms and stepped into her space, but she refused to look up at him, instead she kept her eyes on the open top button of his dress shirt.
‘I’ve always been partial to apples,’ he said roughly.
Apples? Her eyes flicked to his in surprise. Why was he talking about fruit when all she could think about was how close they were and how if she moved barely an inch the tips of her aching breasts would find some relief pressed up against the hard wall of his chest?
As if he could sense the inner turmoil of her mind fighting her body he lowered his head even further and spoke softly into her ear. ‘Tell me what you want, moya krasavitsa.’
Tell him... Eleanore released a shaky breath. She didn’t know what she wanted. Or she did but she didn’t want it with him. Or anyone. Relationships were way down on her list of goals and she knew she couldn’t afford to be distracted at a time when she was trying so hard to impress her sister with her professional abilities.
‘I don’t want anything from you,’ she said shakily.
‘Excuse me, Mr Kuznetskov, will that be all today?’
The salesgirl’s interruption was such a welcome relief Eleanore expelled a rushed breath. ‘Yes,’ she said before Lukas could reply, ‘and I’m paying.’
Much to her consternation the girl’s eyes darted to Lukas as if seeking his permission, which made Eleanore’s temper soar. Women bowing down to him was the last thing a man like Lukas Kuznetskov needed.
She glared up at him and dared him to argue with her.
He studied her for a moment longer without moving and then he stepped to the side. ‘By all means, Miss Harrington. Would you like her to stamp your feminist card as well?’