Good grief, she’d never been a blusher, but she’d never met a man who was quite so direct. Or abrupt.
‘A while,’ she offered, not about to tell him the truth and encourage any more probing questions. Or, worse, declare herself the loser in the game of Who’s the Most Jaded Person in the Room they seemed to be playing.
‘Exactly how long is a while?’ he countered, undeterred by her evasive answer.
‘That’s none of your business, Jack,’ she replied, then realised her mistake instantly when a smile that had ‘gotcha’ written all over it appeared.
‘So it’s Jack now, is it?’ He lifted his arms to link his fingers behind his head as he sat back against the cushions, revealing the tantalising tuffs of dark hair under his armpits and the roped muscles on the underside of his biceps that bulged distractingly. ‘Progress, at last,’ he finished, the smile now full of wolfish smugness, or smug wolfishness. Take your pick.
Was that his real surname, she wondered. Because it suited him almost too perfectly.
‘We just made love,’ she said. ‘Even I can see the irony in still calling you Mr Wolfe after that,’ she finished, struggling to gain some semblance of control over the conversation.
‘Did we? Make love? Are you sure?’ he mocked. ‘How quaint.’ The smile took on a cynical slant, which made him look even more jaded—and hot.
‘It’s a figure of speech,’ she said wearily, suddenly tired of the banter and the knowledge she wasn’t as tough and invulnerable as she had always assumed, or at least not where he was concerned—which only made this situation more dangerous. ‘We had sex, then, if you prefer,’ she added, trying to regain some of her usual fierceness in the face of extreme provocation. Did he know how shaky she felt right now? She certainly hoped not.
The smile became rueful, which didn’t slow her pounding pulse in the least. ‘Funny, because it didn’t feel like just having sex,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a lot of sex in my life and that was... Well, different.’
Had it been? For him too? Despite his vast experience?
She squashed the foolish thought. He was toying with her, seeing if he could unnerve her even more. Why was she letting him?
She dragged her fingers through her hair and tied the wild mass in a ruthless knot as she glanced out of the window. The panic retreated as she noticed the storm had finally passed. The late afternoon sunlight struggled to peek through the trees. ‘The storm’s over,’ she said, far too aware the storm in her gut hadn’t abated in the least. ‘Your suit should be dry enough to put back on,’ she added, the hint so blatant even he couldn’t miss it. ‘I’ll pack you some brownies for the road free of charge,’ she finished, knowing she wasn’t even going to hold him to the one hundred and fifty pounds he owed her. She needed him gone now, before she lost what was left of her sanity...and her self-respect.
She headed to the door, ready to hole up in the bathroom until he’d left her bed. And she could breathe again.
But as she reached for the doorknob his gruff voice sent unwelcome sensations sprinting down her spine. ‘Not so fast, Red.’
She turned. He was still lounging on her bed but his gaze had become flat and direct, the muscle in his jaw twitching. ‘I’m not finished with you yet.’
‘Tough, because I’m finished with you,’ Katie said with a conviction she was determined to fake until she’d got him out of the house.
She instantly regretted the bold challenge when the brittle light in his eyes sharpened and he let out a rueful chuckle. ‘I wasn’t talking about sex,’ he said, the searing perusal making it very clear he didn’t believe her for a second. ‘Precisely.’
Her pulse began to punch her collarbone with the force and fury of a heavyweight champion. ‘Then what were you talking about?’
‘I have a proposition for you,’ Jack said, the silky tone underlined with cold hard steel. ‘One you won’t want to refuse.’
She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat and locked her knees, the arrogance in his tone as disturbing as everything else about him. ‘I don’t take orders from you, Jack,’ she said, determined to believe it. ‘Even if we did just sleep together.’
It was a very long time since she’d allowed herself to be bullied by any man. And, whatever his proposition was, she had no intention of accepting it. He unsettled her in ways she had no control over, and that could not be good. But her curiosity got the better of her when she added, ‘What’s the proposition?’
He lifted his hands from behind his head and placed them on the taut skin of his belly, drawing her attention to the increasingly visible bulge under the quilt. Her gaze shot back to his face as the sensation sunk like a hot brick into her abdomen. But it was already too late, because his lips curved in that sexy smile that told her he had caught her looking.
‘Go wash up,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes. We should probably discuss it when we’re both fully clothed,’ he added. ‘I would hate to take unfair advantage of you.’
She glared at him, knowing full well Jack Wolfe would have no qualms about using any advantage, unfair most of all. But she bit her lip, because calling him out on the blatant lie would be tantamount to admitting he had an unfair advantage. And being clothed before she challenged him again would be the smart thing to do... Especially after all the stupid things she’d done.
‘Fine,’ she said, reaching for the doorknob. ‘But, just so you know, the answer is going to be no.’ She marched out of the room with a flourish, slamming the door on his low chuckle, satisfied she’d managed to get the last word.
As she showered off the evidence of her stupidity, she promised herself that, no matter what his proposition was, however tempting, however tantalising, however hard to refuse, she would send him packing. Because she owed it to the seventeen-year-old kid who had spent a year sofa-surfing through London and doing crummy minimum-wage jobs on nightshifts to gain her independence. She wasn’t about to lose it to a wolf.