where he'd been standing behind his desk, bent over studying some papers. Seeing me, he straightened and waved me in.
"Close the door behind you," he ordered, and I did as I was told. He must not have had to go to court today because he wasn't in a suit, but dressed more casually in black slacks and a black, long-sleeved shirt. The cuffs had been folded casually back.
Coming out from behind the desk, he strode toward me. I froze like the proverbial deer in headlights, halfway across the room. He stopped an arm's length from me.
"Did you bring that list for me?" he asked, taking me by surprise. Then I could have kicked myself. Of course this wasn't personal. He'd remembered I was supposed to bring him the numbers off Sheila's cell phone.
"No," I said. He set his hands on his hips and looked at me, waiting. "It was gone when I got home last night." He frowned.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Just what I said. I left the phone on my kitchen counter yesterday and when I got home last night, it was gone." Now that I thought about it, it occurred to me that Blane himself might have taken it. He was the only one who'd known I'd had it.
"Was your apartment locked?" I nodded.
"I always lock my apartment." He didn't say anything to this, his eyes dropping to the floor, seeming to be lost in thought. After a few moments of silence, I cleared my throat.
"Is that all?" I asked, not sure if I hoped it was or wasn't. Looking back up at me, he was still frowning.
"I don't like the idea of someone breaking into your apartment," he said.
"Yeah, you and me both," I shot back. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch in an almost smile. His hands dropped from his hips and he stepped closer. Swallowing, I stood my ground.
"You're so combative," he accused softly. "Are you this way with everyone or just me?" His question startled me. I was unsure how to answer. On one hand, he had a point, but, from my perspective, I was just trying to guard against him. If anything, the last few interactions between us had shown me how susceptible I was to him.
"I...um," I stammered, not knowing what I was going to say. His eyes held me captive as he lifted a hand. The back of his knuckles grazed my jaw and my breath caught in my throat.
"I like that color on you," he said softly, moving closer to me. I saw his eyes drop to my mouth and panic flared inside me. I couldn't allow him to kiss me again. It meant something to me, something that I knew it couldn't mean to him. I was just a plaything for him and I had to remember that.
Stepping backward beyond his reach, I blurted, "I have to go. I have a date tonight." His eyes narrowed and he moved toward me again. I kept walking backward, him stalking me, until I was suddenly stopped by the wall against my back. Placing his hands on either side of my head, he effectively trapped me.
"So you said," he said, his eyes searching mine. "Though somehow I doubt James will be to your liking."
"What do you mean?" I said, disliking the breathlessness in my voice. "James is a nice man," I defended him. I couldn't stop my gaze from dropping to his mouth and watched as his lips curved in a knowing smile.
"Maybe," Blane murmured. "But I don't think you like nice men."
"That's ridiculous," I protested. "Of course I do." I could feel the heat of his body through his clothes as he towered over me. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and I could see a glimpse of skin at the base of his throat. I licked my lips and tried not to think of how that skin would taste.
Leaning closer, he placed his lips at my ear. "But I'm not a nice man," he whispered, "and I know you like me." The words slithered into my ear and then I felt his lips touch my neck in a feather light caress.
A sharp knock on the door shattered the silence and I jumped about a foot. Blane didn't move, his eyes locked on mine. His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb lightly brushing my lips.
The knock came again and I took the opportunity to duck under his arm and
"Close the door behind you," he ordered, and I did as I was told. He must not have had to go to court today because he wasn't in a suit, but dressed more casually in black slacks and a black, long-sleeved shirt. The cuffs had been folded casually back.
Coming out from behind the desk, he strode toward me. I froze like the proverbial deer in headlights, halfway across the room. He stopped an arm's length from me.
"Did you bring that list for me?" he asked, taking me by surprise. Then I could have kicked myself. Of course this wasn't personal. He'd remembered I was supposed to bring him the numbers off Sheila's cell phone.
"No," I said. He set his hands on his hips and looked at me, waiting. "It was gone when I got home last night." He frowned.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Just what I said. I left the phone on my kitchen counter yesterday and when I got home last night, it was gone." Now that I thought about it, it occurred to me that Blane himself might have taken it. He was the only one who'd known I'd had it.
"Was your apartment locked?" I nodded.
"I always lock my apartment." He didn't say anything to this, his eyes dropping to the floor, seeming to be lost in thought. After a few moments of silence, I cleared my throat.
"Is that all?" I asked, not sure if I hoped it was or wasn't. Looking back up at me, he was still frowning.
"I don't like the idea of someone breaking into your apartment," he said.
"Yeah, you and me both," I shot back. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch in an almost smile. His hands dropped from his hips and he stepped closer. Swallowing, I stood my ground.
"You're so combative," he accused softly. "Are you this way with everyone or just me?" His question startled me. I was unsure how to answer. On one hand, he had a point, but, from my perspective, I was just trying to guard against him. If anything, the last few interactions between us had shown me how susceptible I was to him.
"I...um," I stammered, not knowing what I was going to say. His eyes held me captive as he lifted a hand. The back of his knuckles grazed my jaw and my breath caught in my throat.
"I like that color on you," he said softly, moving closer to me. I saw his eyes drop to my mouth and panic flared inside me. I couldn't allow him to kiss me again. It meant something to me, something that I knew it couldn't mean to him. I was just a plaything for him and I had to remember that.
Stepping backward beyond his reach, I blurted, "I have to go. I have a date tonight." His eyes narrowed and he moved toward me again. I kept walking backward, him stalking me, until I was suddenly stopped by the wall against my back. Placing his hands on either side of my head, he effectively trapped me.
"So you said," he said, his eyes searching mine. "Though somehow I doubt James will be to your liking."
"What do you mean?" I said, disliking the breathlessness in my voice. "James is a nice man," I defended him. I couldn't stop my gaze from dropping to his mouth and watched as his lips curved in a knowing smile.
"Maybe," Blane murmured. "But I don't think you like nice men."
"That's ridiculous," I protested. "Of course I do." I could feel the heat of his body through his clothes as he towered over me. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and I could see a glimpse of skin at the base of his throat. I licked my lips and tried not to think of how that skin would taste.
Leaning closer, he placed his lips at my ear. "But I'm not a nice man," he whispered, "and I know you like me." The words slithered into my ear and then I felt his lips touch my neck in a feather light caress.
A sharp knock on the door shattered the silence and I jumped about a foot. Blane didn't move, his eyes locked on mine. His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb lightly brushing my lips.
The knock came again and I took the opportunity to duck under his arm and
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