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When he suddenly chuckled it was a stinging reminder of another man’s belittlement.
Her eyes blazed at him. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I was just thinking…you’d make a good model for Boadicea right now—tall and queenly, feminine and fierce, draped in a flowing raiment and carrying your bag and umbrella clasped to your bosom like a sword and shield.’
To Nora’s chagrin she realised that she was indeed clutching her accessories in front of her like defensive weapons. She forced herself to nonchalantly lower her arms.
‘If I’m Boadicea who are you…one of my lowly English serfs?’
His eyes gleamed with appreciation. ‘I rather saw myself as a Roman general accepting your surrender.’
Nora tossed her autumn-brown head in unconscious challenge. No man was ever again going to bemoan her passiveness. ‘I don’t think Boadicea ever surrendered herself to the Romans, did she?’
‘Actually, I think she chose to take poison rather than bow her head in defeat,’ he said, pushing himself off the wall as the lift pinged its arrival at the selected floor. ‘You look as if you admire her courage. Is my captive warrior queen getting cold feet?’ he murmured against the rumble of the opening door. The words were playful, but the underlying message was not.
Colour streaked across Nora’s cheeks. ‘I’m nobody’s captive!’
‘Very impressive, but that doesn’t answer my question.’
She looked him straight in the eye, concealing her angry turmoil, determined to be bold and assertive.
‘You’re the one who seems to be having second thoughts, General. Afraid you can’t handle me without a legion at your back?’
Silver light flared in his storm-dark eyes and hot blood pulsed through the vein in his exposed temple.
‘I already have,’ he reminded her with a lethal smile steeped in male arrogance. He braced his hand across the gap into which the sliding door had retracted. ‘And, as I recall, you would have been on your knees if I hadn’t been holding you up.’
‘I thought that was where you wanted me to be,’ she shot back.
‘Oh, it is…but I’d prefer to wait until we’re both naked.’ He was swift to take advantage of her unwitting double-entendre. ‘It’s much more satisfying that way.’
She blushed from head to foot but valiantly battled on. ‘Maybe you’ll be the one brought to your knees.’
His eyelids lowered over his sultry amusement. ‘I’d like that. I’m all for equal opportunity in the bedroom.’
Her mouth went dry as she thought of this aggressive and strong-willed male submitting himself to her every whim, his sleek, muscled body her erotic playground, his sexual expertise hers to command. ‘And out of it?’
‘I like to think of myself as a fair man. Is it relevant?’
Of course it wasn’t. She was just wasting time. She swallowed hard, trying to work some moisture into her mouth so her voice wouldn’t come out as a nervous croak. ‘Which way is your suite?’
‘To the right—the right,’ he repeated, hooking her by the elbow as she veered in the wrong direction.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, flustered by her mistake. ‘I’m left-handed.’
‘That explains everything,’ he said, with a dry humour which made her feel a shade less foolish.
‘Well, I’m right-brained, but ambidextrous when it comes to doing most things,’ she expanded. ‘That’s why I get mixed up sometimes.’
He came to a halt in front of a panelled door and swiped the keycard across the lock, standing aside to usher her inside, flicking a switch to softly illuminate the long room. On their lowest setting, the lamps cast a mellow glow over the whipped cream carpet, plush sofas and art-strung walls. To Nora’s surprised relief, Blake’s next action was to cross to the full-length windows and draw the heavy curtains across what was undoubtedly a superb view of the city.
A little of her tension eased and she placed her umbrella and bag down on the narrow entrance table, moving further into the luxurious cocoon. There was a desk stacked with papers and files and an ultra-slim laptop computer blinking in sleep-mode; next to it a sideboard held a television and video game machine, coffee-making facilities and a heavily stocked mini-bar. A mahogany table with six ladder-backed chairs was angled to take advantage of the view. A large basket of fresh flowers and tropical fruits graced the coffee table between the cushioned sofas, and through the archway to her left the spill of light along the floor showed Nora a wedge of bathroom floor and, beyond that, the edge of a king-sized bed receding into the darkness, the turned-down sheet and plumped pillows at its head shimmering ghostly white in the gloom.
‘I don’t think it’s likely to rain in here, do you?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ She tore her eyes hurriedly away from the beckoning fantasy to find Blake prowling back in her direction.
‘Your coat. Would you like to take it off?’
