That phone call she’d been on had changed not only her voice but her entire demeanor. Byron knew when someone was scared — and though McKenzie was obviously irritated, she was also afraid. He would find out why. He might have believed it was an act except that she hadn’t known he was there. She wasn’t acting for his benefit.
So what was going on in her life?
“Who were you talking to, McKenzie?” Byron had learned long ago to not let his opponents have time to think. If he caught her by surprise, she wouldn’t have time to make up a good lie. He was pretty miffed she’d managed to get away for the twenty minutes between the phone call and coming to his office. It was enough time to build a likely-sounding story, so he needed to be quick on his feet now.
“It was no one you’d know.”
“Hmm. Try me. I know a lot of people.”
“Trust me, Byron; you don’t know this person,” she said.
“Whoever it was seems to be wanting something you’re not willing to give,” he said, and by the widening of her eyes, he could see she’d hoped he hadn’t heard the entire conversation — her half, anyway. But it was too bad for her.
Byron didn’t want his opinion of McKenzie to change. He wanted to think of her as cold, calculated, and interested only in herself, but he couldn’t help but notice the frightened look in her eyes, or the way she was so carefully holding herself together. But he found himself wanting to be her Knight in shining armor, or an Armani suit, ready to rescue her from whatever dragon had been on the other end of her phone line.
“I’m here to do a job, Byron, and it’s a job that could be handled by any number of people I know. But I’m still here, and I’m doing this job well. If I take a call, that call is none of your business,” she said, her eyes connecting with his and showing him that she certainly had some steel in her character.
Byron’s pulse started to speed up. He shouldn’t feel anything like rage now. Nothing this woman did should upset him, but he was so frustrated with himself and with her that he found himself wanting to grab her, shake her, and get past that icy composure she inevitably reverted to.
Instead of doing any of that, he fired off more words in a voice that was, if possible, icier. “You should be grateful you are working here, and for what I can do for your new company’s reputation.”
“I am grateful, but my personal business is still none of your business.”
“When your personal life spills over into the working environment, it becomes my business,” he told her. “Definitely my business.”
Her eyes narrowed as they remained in a silent deadlock, both of them refusing to back down. Then he saw the telltale slumping of her shoulders, and he knew he’d gained a minor advantage over her.
“You are right, of course. I’ll make sure to keep my phone put away while working.”
Though she’d said the words, she clearly didn’t mean them. There was something going on in her life that she had zero control over, and if it was the last thing he did, he’d find out what it was. But short of shaking the information from her, he didn’t know how in the hell he was going to get her to speak.
He should just leave it alone and let her deal with her own messes. Whatever had happened, she surely had brought it on herself.
But words slipped from his mouth. “I can help you with whatever is going on.” Sheesh! That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say at all.
“There is nothing going on. I don’t need your help.”
McKenzie had spoken between clenched teeth, and he watched as her fingers closed into fists as she tried desperately to regain her cool and her composure.
Byron never — absolutely never — offered to help anyone, particularly a woman, and to have that offer thrown back at him so haughtily infuriated him. But they said nothing else for several moments; they were spending the time staring daggers at one another.
“Dammit, McKenzie! This is ridiculous,” he huffed, ticked that she was making him back down.
“I won’t say it again, so listen up this time. I don’t need any help from you, Mr. Knight.”
And for just a moment, he thought he saw a slight sheen spread over her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he was sure that he must have imagined it.
Distance wasn’t doing the trick, so with his will to stay away from her gone, he began moving across the room, drawing closer to her. He had to give her points for not retreating. He saw the new look in her eyes, saw that she wanted to turn and run, but her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow her to do that.
“I heard your end of the conversation, McKenzie. You do need my help.” He stopped right in front of her, forcing her head to tilt up so she could continue looking at him.
It might have been the wrong move for him, because now her subtle scent was drifting over him, her warm breath brushing his throat, her body heat practically burning him. This woman was certainly casting a spell over him, and he had a feeling the spell wouldn’t be broken until he captured her lips, captured her body, and purged her from his system. Especially after his incredibly vivid dream the day before — he’d woken up from it hungry and wanting and in the worst of moods.
“Even if I did need help, I wouldn’t ask for it,” she said. Her tone held only a trace of vulnerability, but just that small measure of helplessness made him want more than ever to pull her into his embrace.
When her helplessness evaporated and in its place a taunting smile filled her lips, the small strand of elastic that was holding up his will to resist her snapped. Snaking his arms around her back, he drew her to him and at long last kissed her again.
When she melted against him, he pulled back. “You can’t stop me from doing what I want,” he said. What did that mean? Was he speaking about helping her or bedding her? Maybe both.
And his lips claimed hers again, preventing her from hitting him with a comeback. He’d expected her to fight him, expected her to protest, but she didn’t lie to either of them, didn’t put up a front. Instead, her hands came up to rest on his arms as she opened her sweet mouth to him and he thrust his tongue inside, claiming her in a way he’d been dreaming of doing since that first kiss five months earlier. And even more so now, since his dream.
A sigh escaped her mouth, but he caught it. His blood raged as his fingers dipped over the curve of her derrière and he tugged her hips against his pulsing erection. He wanted there to be no doubts at all in her mind about what she was doing to him. He hadn’t had sex in a long, long time, and it was showing.