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He was poise personified, but his eyes gave him away. He was angry, perhaps even betrayed. "I know you're sensible enough not to let a drama queen like Clara get to you, not really."
"It did get to me," she shot back, her face flaming.
"Why?" He put his hands out in a physical request.
That gesture doubled her confusion. She wanted him to comfort her, to reassure her, but her pride was dented. "Because she told me you replaced her with another redhead."
There. It was out.
"Did she say that?"
"Of course she did. But it was obvious. She didn't need to point it out."
He shrugged. "And..?"
"For god's sake, Lucas! How would you feel if you met my ex and he looked like you?"
He looked skyward as if briefly imagining it. "I suppose I'd be forced to recognize you had a consistent personality."
Naomi stared at him in disbelief. He was humoring her. Men! "That's easy for you to say so glibly, you're not in the situation I've just been."
"I know, Naomi, and I'm sorry you had to endure that. I had no idea she was coming here and she'd lash out at you."
"She obviously wants you back," she accused, annoyed because her emotions were well and truly ruling her responses now.
"I don't want her back."
She wants you back. And why wouldn't she? Probably realized her error. The sinking feeling in her stomach leveled her. "She was trying to move in to your suite, she had hopes."
He pushed his hair back, seemingly more at ease. "I agree, it does indicate she might've been contemplating reconciliation. Believe me, it's not on the cards and never will be."
"It's hard to believe when she just waltzed in here!"
"Why would I deliberately put you in that situation?" His eyes pleaded with her.
"I don't know you. Maybe you have a fetish for women fighting over you – redheaded women!"
He turned away, shaking his head as he did so. "I thought you trusted me."
He spoke as if to himself.
"I do…I did." She felt wretched. Why did she want him so much?
When he looked back at her, he locked eyes. "Naomi, what do you want from this relationship?"
The question floored her. It didn't help that she wanted him so badly right then – wanted him to make it right, when it had suddenly felt so wrong. She gasped, incredulous. "Really? That's it, isn't it? You think you can pluck wishes out of the sky like some sort of magician?"
His mouth quirked at one corner, but he didn't look amused. "No, I think we can work towards common goals, because we want each other. I know what I want from you…" He paused very deliberately, and the look he gave her was smoldering. "Tell me what you want."
Arousal pumped through her veins, because he looked so hot, so masterful. Once again emotions ruled her words. "I want to go back to the beginning. I want to time travel and have my meeting with the buyer and do things properly. This confusion is caving me in!" As soon as it was out, she hated herself for being shallow and not being able to work through it the way he could.
"That's doable. What else do you want?" His eyes glittered with anticipation as he awaited her response.
You! That's what he was waiting for – for her to say it aloud. He already knew it, damn him, and her desire for him was probably written all over her face, and in her body language. Saying it was hugely significant, she knew, but he also had to know how hard it was for her to talk about this, after the humiliation of being confronted by his ex-wife.
His eyes were black disks and yet his gaze scorched her. He shifted his shoulders as if limbering up. It was a statement of intent.
Pride forbade her to respond. She wavered momentarily. The tug of desire was fierce. Battling it, she flitted from the spot.
