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‘What are you afraid of?’ he demanded, his eyes searching her face. ‘Why are you always so desperate to run away from me?’
‘Who says I’m afraid?’ But she belied her own defence with breathless words that sounded like she’d been turned upside down and shaken till they’d rattled from her.
He frowned, her trembling arm still held prisoner in his own. ‘Am I really that terrifying?’
‘I’m not…’ Her teeth snagged her bottom lip. There was no point pretending she wasn’t afraid, but she didn’t have to admit it, either. She kicked up her chin. ‘I’m not running now.’
The look in his eyes turned distinctly primal even as he smiled. ‘Just as well, because there would be no point. When I want something, I usually get it, whether or not it’s a moving target.’
In her fractured mind, his words made no sense at all. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I want you, Sophie. I wanted you when you showed up in my office in a buttoned-up dress and with a buttoned-up attitude to match. I want you even more now I’ve seen you out of both of them.’
The shudder caught her unawares, like his words and she trembled openly against him. ‘Daniel, I…’
He stroked her hair, catching a stray tendril and winding it around her ear, his touch tender, sensual and tingle-inducing. ‘You feel it too,’ he said, even as his gaze remained focused on the hand stroking her hair. ‘You feel this attraction between us.’
She tried to tell herself it was all part of the plan. Tried to convince herself that this was what she had wanted, to get Daniel on side and ensure that he might be more receptive to ensuring the wedding between his sister and her brother would be a success.
But how could she pretend it was all part of a plan when she didn’t have to pretend to sway into his touch? How could she make herself or anyone else believe it was otherwise? Then she felt his lips press against her hair, his warm breath against her scalp, and she was very nearly undone.
She swallowed against a need to lift her face and meet his lips with her own. Fought against it with all the power she could summon. But there was hardly any resistance left in her.
When he acted arrogantly and made all the decisions, when he was overbearing and unbearable with it, she could summon a resistance and fight him. But when he was like this—tender, gentle and with a touch that melted her bones and defused her resistance—how could she fight?
She couldn’t.
Not when she knew he was right. Not when she knew she wanted him too. Damn it.
Sophie heard a knock and the sound of a door sliding behind her and she jerked away, but not as far as she’d have liked to because Daniel still kept hold of her arm. ‘Excuse me for interrupting,’ she heard Millie say, ‘But Monica’s on the phone again asking to speak to Miss Turner.’
It took a second for her brain to shift gears and to make sense of Millie’s words. ‘To me?’ Daniel nodded.
‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but Moni said she’d call again once she’d had a chance to talk to Jake.’
Sophie didn’t have to ask why he hadn’t had a chance to say it—because she hadn’t let him. She’d jumped straight down his throat and practically accused him of hijacking the wedding arrangements.
‘I’m sorry,’ she managed. ‘I got the impression you were taking over.’
‘So I gather.’ He managed a tight smile. ‘Maybe you’d better go take that call.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘Millie will show you to the office.’
‘You’re not coming?’
‘Moni asked to speak to you. I thought you might appreciate doing it alone.’ He watched her watching him for a second and then he said, ‘Are you going to take the call or not?’
She nodded and disappeared into the house.
It was only a small lie, he told himself as he headed for his suite. He would normally go out of his way to be there, overseeing the call, ensuring it went in the right direction. But he’d planted the seed in Monica’s mind and got her excited, and he was sure not even Fletcher could change her mind. She had no other option now. It was Kallista or nothing.
Besides, there was no way he was going to speak to Fletcher. He couldn’t even bring himself to hear the man’s voice.
If all went to plan, he would never have to. Once Jo contacted him and made him an offer, he’d be all too willing to escape a wedding planned slap-bang in the centre of the enemy camp. It shouldn’t be long now, and they wouldn’t see Fletcher for dust.
He snapped on his shower and waited for the steam to rise as he reefed off his swimming trunks, a niggling concern in the back of his mind.
