Page 39 of Locked and Loaded

Dragan's free hand closed around her wrist.

She froze.

He still kissed her as if nothing was wrong. Finally, he broke the kiss, but he didn't pull back. His mouth was still close enough that his breath fanned her lips. His eyes were open now, dark and steady and completely, infuriatingly aware.

"Nice try," he said. His fingers were warm on her wrist.

Lennox's heart hammered. She didn't know if it was from the kiss or from getting caught. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

She widened her eyes and tried for innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were going for my key." He still hadn't let go of her wrist. His thumb was resting against her pulse point, and she knew he could feel it racing. The corners of his mouth curved up. "I'll give you points for creativity."

"I was kissing you."

"You were kissing me and reaching for my pocket at the same time,” he pointed out. “I'm flattered, and it was very…enjoyable, but I'm not stupid."

She should have pulled away. She should have yanked her wrist free and stormed back to her room and slammed the door. But that would be him winning. Him seeing she was out of control. Instead, she didn't move. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Most men wouldn't have noticed.”

"I'm not most men."

She was starting to figure that out. He was still holding her wrist. He was still close enough to kiss again. And the worst part, the absolute worst part, was that he didn't look angry. He looked amused. Like she'd done something entertaining. Like he'd enjoyed it.

"You knew," she said. "The whole time."

He gave a small shrug. "I suspected."

"And you let me do it anyway?" she asked incredulously.

The corners of his mouth turned upward. "You were committed. I didn't want to interrupt."

Heat flooded her face. She told herself it was anger; however, she was fairly sure it wasn't only anger.

"You're an ass," she huffed.

"I've been told." He released her wrist, slowly, his fingers brushing her palm before he let go. "The key stays with me. But if you want to try again tomorrow, I won't object."

"To me trying to steal the key?"

"To you kissing me to distraction. Practice makes perfect."

He said it without a smile, but something in his eyes was laughing at her. Or maybe not at her. Maybe with her. She couldn't tell, and that was the problem. Anger flared in her chest. She couldn't tell anything with him. She needed to rethink, to be smarter, more stealthy. But here she was, still standing in his office in the middle of the night, her lips still tingling from a kiss that had been supposed to be a distraction and had turned into something else entirely.

She took a step back. Then another. "I'm going back to bed."

"Good night, Lennox."

Heat crept up her cheeks. She hated the way his voice sounded, all deep and throaty. Like he knew she'd be thinking about him. Like he knew she wouldn't sleep. Like he knew that kiss had rattled her more than she was ever going to admit.

She didn't answer. She stalked out of the office, across the dark courtyard, up the stairs to the gallery. She didn't look back. But when she reached her room and closed the door behind her, she leaned against it for a long moment.

It had been a solid plan. Strategic, she told herself.

She didn't believe it either.

It had stopped being the plan somewhere around the moment he'd kissed her back.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN