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He ran his hand across his jaw. “I’d like to avoid a next time.”
Her gaze lingered on his hand. Big hands. Hands that cradled her breast and drove her to distraction. She pressed her lips together.
“You won’t tell me what you’re thinking because you worry I’ll tell them?” He glanced at Mal and Olivia, wrapped up and whispering on the other end of the cabin. “That’s why you won’t talk to me?”
She couldn’t talk to him because his proximity scrambled her thoughts into incoherent jumbles. “I don’t talk to you because I don’t want to.” She didn’t look at him. “You irritate me. Greatly.”
He laughed. “The feeling is mutual.”
She smiled but still didn’t look at him. “I know. I remember the feel of your…irritation against my stomach last night. It was quite impressive.”
His sharp intake of breath had her glancing his way. His eyes were pressed shut, the muscle in his jaw working.
Her fingers itched to stroke that jaw. “Maybe that’s what I was thinking about?” she continued, enjoying his struggle. “What would have happened if you’d finished what you started? You’ve strong hands. I like that they fit me here.” She cupped her own breast, watching his reaction.
His eyes popped open, fixating on her face, her hand. His jaw clenched tightly.
Her body warmed, aching for him. “And this,” she whispered, brushing her thumb against her nipple. “I didn’t want you to stop.”
“Fuck,” he hissed, his hands fisting against his thighs.
“Exactly.” She slid to the edge of her seat, easily within his reach.
“Why are you doing this?” He forced the words out, pushing out of his seat. He paced, running a hand through his copper hair. His gaze darted around the cabin.
Apparently Mal and Olivia had decided to make use of the bedroom. They were alone.
His green eyes regarded her warily.
“I thought I’d made it perfectly clear,” she admitted.
He glanced at the floor, then the ceiling. “You like tormenting me.”
“I’m simply offering you what we both want.” She scooted back in her chair and crossed her legs, the throb between her legs bordering on pain. “Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
He didn’t answer.
She sighed. “You won’t talk to me, but you expect me to talk to you?”
His brows rose. “Pick a different topic and I’ll talk.”
“It’s one way to pass the time. Question for question?” She pointed at the chair. She had things his pack needed to know. But she was curious to know what he’d ask. “But you first.”
His gaze bounced from her to the chair. From the bulge in his pants, his wolf was still battling for control. Oh, how she wished the beast would win. But the set of his jaw, his thinning lips, and furrowed brow told her that wasn’t going to happen.
“I can behave.” She grinned.
“Then you can go first.” He sat, wary and stiff.
Chapter Eleven
It took focus to shut down the response she’d stirred…again. But he did it. If there was a chance she’d share information about the Others, he had to jump on it. Not her.
She studied him, as if considering her options. When she finally spoke, he was surprised by her train of thought. “Besides trying to cure this so-called infection, what things do you do at your pharmaceutical company?”
Talking work was easy. He sat, instantly more relaxed. “Generic vaccines that we can provide to countries in need and to those without insurance. Trials for cancer—that’s what this trip is about. We’ve done some stem cell testing that looks promising. Mi
nor tweaks might yield greater results. I want to be there for that.”
