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his full height to tower above her. His gaze was steady. Something feral reflected in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. She half expected he would deny her request to leave, or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part.
    She yelped in surprise when his arm snaked around her waist to pull her close. Her hands went up in automatic reflex which only served to trap them between their bodies. His head descended slowly. For several seconds Lorn’s mouth hovered over hers. She could have turned her head away but something compelled her not to move. Fatima’s heart raced with expectancy. Her lips parted of their own volition like an open invite. He pressed forward. It was a seductive coaxing. Sweet and assertive. Or at least it’s how it started. Soon the kiss turned more demanding. Possessive. His tongue sought hers with hunger. Arousal simmered in her, hitching with each thrust until she pulsed with longing. All too abruptly it ended. He relaxed his hold, then dropped his arm altogether. She took a few steps backward. From the look in his eyes she could tell he didn’t want to stop. Disappointment flooded her.
    “Something more you want?”
    His question didn’t register immediately. Yet when the words penetrated her hazy mind she gave in to instant embarrassment then outrage.
    “Absolutely not, I-I didn’t even want the kiss and I definitely don’t want anything else from you.”
    “There goes the banner of truth. Since we will be working so closely together I think it’s imperative we be honest,” he finally replied after what seemed like an eternity.
    “The operative word is work, nothing more. If you can’t agree to a strictly business relationship here and now then I won’t be going to France, job or not,” she issued.
    There was another long pause before Lorn responded. “I will only do as you wish.”
    “Good.” She exhaled. “What I would like right now is to return to my hotel.”
    He bowed slightly in compliance although when their eyes met again the look he gave promised they were far from being done.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
    Gordy had rung Fatima’s room four times in the last two hours and got the downstairs attendant after each attempt.
    “No message,” he bit out, letting the phone drop into the cradle.
    Where the hell could she be?
    He knew the answer before the question had fully formed in his mind. Lorn De LaRue was responsible. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the way the man ogled her like she were a choice steak and he were in desperate need of a meal.
    A gentle knock sounded, and interrupted his internal rant. He jerked the door open to the surprised face of the female grad student he’d spent the previous evening with in lieu of Fatima. Only a dead man wouldn’t notice how absolutely stunning the strawberry blonde was, with her classical features, stony gray eyes and perfect upturned mouth. She smiled at him seductively, displaying perfect teeth. The rest of her was equally as traffic stopping. She seemed to be curved in all the right places with large breasts which greeted him immediately. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on her womanly form.
    “I thought you might like an evening snack.” The woman continued to beam prettily, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and a basket of strawberries in the other.
    Although his first instinct had been to slam the door on his uninvited guest he quickly changed his mind as he took in the barely there peach halter top and matching mini skirt which left little to the imagination. It wasn’t her fault he was in a foul mood but she might be able to help him exercise away some of his frustration.
    “Sure,” he agreed, swinging the door wider to allow her admittance.
    ***
    Fatima was grateful for two things as she checked out of her hotel two days later. First she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Gordy. After her embarrassing night with Lorn she’d come back to the hotel only to find four messages waiting for her