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as she moved quickly past him and taking her by surprise, spun her into his lap.
    His eyes fixed her, held her momentarily in his power. ‘The printer can look after itself,’ he murmured, softly into her neck so the words vibrated against her skin and Tara knew that if she allowed her head to fall against his shoulder and parted her lips he would take everything she was prepared to offer and more.
    But there had been something altogether too calculating in the momentary glimpse she had caught of his eyes before he closed them and she shivered. ‘So can I, Adam. But I’d prefer to get up without an unseemly struggle.’
    He raised his head and she caught a gasp between her teeth. Whatever his original intentions, there was no doubting the desire that turned his eyes black in the shifting light of the flames.
    It had been a long time since she had wanted to lie back in a man’s arms. It was nearly seven years since Nigel’s death and in all that time no one had broken through the shell she had erected to protect her heart.
    Almost in panic she tried to move, but he held her firm and despite her brave words she knew that if he chose to keep her captive she would be hard pressed to free herself without resorting to the unforgivable. And she faced the disturbing truth that if he insisted upon kissing her she might never want to be free again.
    For a moment his eyes challenged her to defy him, to ignore the warmth of his body against her own, to ignore the way his mouth curved with sensuous insolence, inviting her to make the first move and risk the surging desire that had surfaced so abruptly when he had kissed her in the wine bar.
    It was hard. Harder still to ignore clamour of her blood pounding with wild impatience through her veins and the way her skin was tingling, begging to be stroked by the long fingers holding her against him, teased by the broad tip of his thumb, already far too close to a betraying nipple, erect against the soft cloth of her dress.
    Another moment would have been a moment too long but without warning he stood up with her, surprising a soft cry from her lips. He smiled then, and set her gently on her feet.
    ‘You’re right, Tara. Better check the printer. Then I’ll walk you home.’
    Her hands were shaking as she shuffled the papers into some semblance of order. She managed to slip them into a folder and turned, holding it as a kind of defence against him as he followed her into the office.
    He took the file from her and threw it onto her desk. ‘Come on. It’s late.’ He helped her into her coat, his face expressionless as she pulled nervously away and quickly fastened the buttons. He summoned the lift and stood back to let her in. He paused with his finger on the button. ‘I never gave you the promised grand tour.’
    ‘I think I’ve seen more than enough,’ she murmured, but she refused to meet his eyes.
    ‘Enough for tonight,’ he agreed.
    They walked in silence along the quiet street and turned into the mews.
    ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Tara,’ he said, and took the wayward strand of hair that never wanted to stay tidily in place and tucked it behind her ear. For a moment his fingers lingered there against the sensitive skin, threatening to upset the delicate poise of her equilibrium and pitch her into his arms.
    ‘What time do you want me to start work tomorrow?’ Tara asked, jerking away from his touch.
    ‘Whatever time you arrive, my sweet, you can be sure I will already be at work,’ he drawled, impudently aware of the effect he was having.
    She risked a defiant smile. ‘You don’t really expect me to fall for that one, do you, Adam? I’ll be there at nine. A fourteen-hour day is about my limit.’
    ‘We’ll see.’ He bared his teeth in a smile and raised his hand in salute. ‘Goodnight, Tara.’
    She closed the door and leaned heavily against it for a moment, still feeling the dangerous heat of his fingers against her skin. Her hand strayed to the spot and