off.’
Jess felt the inevitable warmth creep up her neck at the thought of his naked, toned torso in such close proximity to her. ‘Yeah, well, you don’t need to rein that in on my account,’ she said, flashing him what she hoped would come across as an affable smile. She wanted to show him she did still have some vestige of control in the flirty-banter stakes.
He raised a dark eyebrow and tipped his head in appreciation. ‘Noted,’ he said, before turning away and walking back to his easel.
* * *
Jess paced the floor of the hall, waiting for Xander to turn up and collect her for their picnic tea.
She’d put the pillar-box-red top and pencil skirt on for tonight, then taken the whole ensemble off again. Then a minute later put it back on, telling herself it was a positive step in the right direction to push herself out of her comfort zone.
To unstuff herself.
But then again, she needed every ounce of confidence tonight if she was going to get through the evening with her pride intact.
She’d been about to take it off again when she’d caught sight of her wild-eyed reflection in the mirror.
She was turning into a complete loony.
Whatever was happening between her and Xander was making her lose her mind. She was ninety per cent sure it wasn’t all in her head. Okay, maybe eighty, but he’d definitely kicked his flirting up a notch recently.
What the hell was going on? She could have sworn he would have kissed her last night if she hadn’t broken the atmosphere by flapping about like a headless chicken. Or was that just a figure of her overactive imagination? In the past she’d been prone to reading more into a situation than was actually there, and it had made her wary about taking anything for granted when it came to men and relationships.
Another thing she hated—making a fool of herself.
Not that she hadn’t already managed that in the couple of days she’d been here.
When he finally turned up at five past eight, looking, oh, so divinely edible, she was so nervous the first thing she said was, ‘You’re late. Again.’
Despite her snippy tone, he gave her an amused grin. ‘Are you going to spank me with your ruler, Headmistress? Because I’ll take whatever punishment you choose to dish out.’
She took a shaky step back away from him, but kept her gaze locked with his. ‘Don’t be so facetious,’ she murmured, her body tense with the sudden desire to throw herself at him and consequences be damned.
He took a step towards her, closing the gap between them. ‘Ooh, yeah, keep using those long words on me, too. I like that.’
She slapped him gently on the arm. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
He slapped her back, a seductive eyebrow quirked.
Narrowing her eyes in jest, she did it again, feeling the rock-hard muscle of his triceps vibrate under her touch.
Before she could react he wrapped his hand round hers and, trapping it there against him, walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. The heat from his body radiated over her skin, sending zingy electric currents through her limbs.
‘This is just like being back in the school playground,’ she barely managed to struggle out. Her tongue felt like a lead weight in her mouth and her lips were tight with tension.
He moved his body closer to her and a flood of longing flashed through her. ‘Did you like playing kiss chase at school?’ he murmured, dipping his head so he could look directly into her eyes. His pupils looked huge against the bright aqua of his irises.
‘Of course,’ she said, her voice husky and broken. ‘And I’m guessing you were always the first kid to suggest playing it?’ Staring defiantly back, she attempted to hold her nerve, determined not to be the one to look away first. He was teasing her, trying to trip her up and get her to admit just how much of an effect he had on her. He wasn’t going to win, though; she wouldn’t let him.
He shifted even closer, bringing with him a waft of his fresh citrus
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