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made him wince.
     
    "Your concern is touching. Unfortunately, we both know it isn't real. I fell down on the sidewalk because I wasn't watching where I was going. My knees are probably bruised and my hands feel like they're on fire, but I don't need a doctor's attention. I just need to go home."
     
    She had herself completely under control again, no trace of the tears or her earlier devastation. He suddenly wondered where she had learned to control her emotions so quickly and completely. He'd taken it for granted before, believing she was a naturally cold person, but their time in bed together had taught him differently. Even her betrayal could not wipe out the image of her passion imprinted on his brain.
     
    "I'll drive you."
     
    She pulled away from him again and this time he let her.
     
    Standing, she brushed off her jeans. 'That isn't necessary."
     
    He didn't agree. He didn't care how fast she subdued her emotions, he'd seen them and he didn't think she was steady enough to drive. "It is to me."
     
    She crossed her arms under her breasts and moved away from him in a defensive gesture. Even after all that had just happened, the way her arms pressed the swell of her breasts against the caramel-colored fabric of her shirt turned him on.
     
    He fisted his hands at his side, rather than let them reach out and touch her like he was aching to do.
     
    "I'm not getting into a car with you."
     
    "Why not?"
     
    "You have to ask?" Her look and tone implied incredulity.
     
    "Yes," he fairly growled.
     
    He'd never done anything to make her believe she wouldn't be safe with him. He hadn't pushed her down, for cripe's sake. She'd fallen.
     
    "I'm not going to spend twenty minutes in a car listening to you berate me. I already know you hate me. Isn't that enough?" Her voice was still husky with emotion, so unlike his cool little Ronnie that he peered through the gathering darkness and tried to read the expression on her face.
     
    Hate? Did he hate her? It would be infinitely easier for him if he did, but his body still responded too strongly to hers to label what he felt for her hatred. He despised her betrayal, her dishonesty, and he'd been hurt by her desertion, but that wasn't hate.
     
    "I don't hate you."
     
    "Don't lie to me. There's no reason. I don't know why you didn't tell Mr. Kline about what happened at CIS, but I'm grateful. If I could make up for what I did, I would."
     
    He had this insane urge to believe her. Was he going to let himself get sucked into the trap of trusting her again? No, damn it. He was not. He didn't react with the skepticism he felt, though. That wouldn't help earn her trust so he could finish his investigation.
     
    Besides, he hadn't lied. Maybe if hecould hate her, if he could get her completely out of his system, he would break his over yearlong abstinence. He despised her, but he wanted her too. Too blasted much. Man, what a fool! Suddenly a glaring truth stood out in his brain: he had to get this woman out of his system. To go on with his life, he had to exorcise his need for her.
     
    He didn't know how, but while he conducted his investigation, he was going to find a way to stop wanting her.
     
    He turned toward the restaurant parking lot. "Come on."
     
    She followed him, a silent shadow in the spring night.
     
    He stopped by her car. "We still need to talk."
     
    She surprised him by nodding. "But not now."
     
    "I'll call you."
     
    "You don't have my number."
     
    "Give it to me."
     
    She bit her lip and then said, "I'll see you at work on Monday. We can talk then." She didn't want him calling her.
     
    "Will your boyfriend object?" Was she dating her boss?
     
    "I don't have a boyfriend."
     
    He felt an annoying sense of relief at her quick denial. But she still didn't want him calling her. The knowledge shouldn't surprise him. She had every reason to fear him. Even she didn't know how much.
     
    "We'll talk tomorrow. Give me your number."
     
    She didn't answer but dug