frozen in place. Then she moved closer—and knelt down to dig through the files in the now-open drawer.
Feeling like he’d dodged a bullet—or missed a great opportunity—he turned and walked out of the room.
Chapter Three
Annie released the breath she’d been holding since he’d said, “You’re welcome.”
For a few seconds there, she’d been sure he was going to kiss her. She’d wanted him to, desperately. He had to have seen her willingness in her eyes.
Obviously not.
Would she never learn?
“You idiot,” she muttered under her breath, ripping the file out of the cursed drawer. She needed to expend the energy that made her feel like she could soar through the air.
All because Nic had told her she was doing a good job.
“You’re pathetic.” She stood and turned back to her desk.
And came face to face with Nic.
She would have screamed if it’d been anyone else. As it was, she jumped nearly an inch off the ground.
Nic had come back to her office without a sound while she’d had her back to the door.
He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face told a great story. One she wanted desperately to hear. She blindly tried to set the file on the desk. She couldn’t have cared less when she heard it slide to the floor with a soft thwap. The intensity in his eyes held her in thrall.
She opened her mouth to say his name, to give her approval, thinking he needed to hear her say it.
He didn’t. One second, she stood several feet away from him. The next, he had his arms wrapped around her and was fitting her against his body as he dropped his mouth hard onto hers.
Then she stopped thinking.
He took her lips as if he wanted to devour her. As if he was starved for her. But he didn’t ravage. He coaxed her into submission.
She didn’t need all that much coaxing. The simple taste of him, hot and dark, was like forbidden alcohol to a teenager. But much more potent.
Then there were his hands. She could feel each individual finger like a brand, searing her skin through her suit. He held her firmly—one arm wrapped around her upper back, fingers anchored on her shoulder; the other around her waist, fingers splayed on her hip.
While his hands didn’t move, his lips did. They caressed hers, his tongue tracing along the seam of her mouth until she opened her mouth to let him in. His tongue slid like rough silk over hers, causing her heart to stampede like a runaway horse.
She raised her hands to hold onto him—and he released her.
One second, he held her tight against him, exactly where she’d wanted to be since forever. The next, he stood across the room with his back to her. Just as he had when she was nineteen and he’d broken her heart.
She heard him mutter something under his breath—something that sounded like, “Son of a bitch.” But she couldn’t be sure because her heart beat so loudly, she could barely hear over it.
She focused on his rigid back, forced herself to regain some semblance of control.
He’d kissed her, yes, but he obviously wasn’t pleased he’d done it.
And that hurt.
Okay, don’t think about that. Get angry. Tell him to go to hell. Tell him you don’t want him to touch you again.
Bald-faced lies, but she had to say something. She just couldn’t stand here and let him do this to—
“I’m sorry.”
His husky words stopped her train of thought faster than his kiss had.
“Sorry?” Sorry, he hadn’t asked her permission? Sorry he’d kissed her?
Damn it, he better not be sorry about that. Her chin lifted at the same time he turned back to face her, so the look on her face probably didn’t give him much reason to think he was going to be forgiven.
Still, he didn’t go cold on her. Instead, his expression took on that reserved look he saved for the few seedy-looking clients who made their way through the doors at DeMarcos. That look gave nothing away.
Two could play that game. She hadn’t gained a reputation for being an icy bitch for