All Wrapped Up in You

Tentatively raising her lashes, she collided into the blue heat of his gaze. Her legs became wobbly, and she leaned against the doorjamb for support. “I-I need space.”

“Why?”

“Not your business.”

“I’m making it my business.”

“Why?”

“We’ll get to that in a minute.”

“No, we’ll get to it now.” She almost stamped her foot in frustration.

He grinned, and she knew she’d fallen into his verbal trap.

“You have something to say,” she snapped, her voice rising an octave. “Say it, and get out.” She flinched at the shrewish sound in her voice…what was happening to her?

Peter Medeci had happened, that was what. But even as that thought flashed through her mind, she knew she couldn’t blame him completely. And that irked her.

And then, he did something that aggravated her even more. He propped his shoulder against the wall like he hadn’t a care in the world and scoped her with his midnight blue eyes, his mouth slanting in that infuriating grin that had her vitals spinning.

“Don’t give me the ice-maiden look.” He folded his arms across his chest, and glanced at her bosom, noting the agitated breathing that made her breasts rise and fall…squinting at the handcrafted bead necklace twisted at the collar of her coat. “There’s kindling igniting beneath that ice.” His glance lit a fiery trail down the rest of her body, pausing at the apex of her thighs, then shot back up to her stormy eyes.

“Don’t provoke me, Peter.” She ran a weary hand through her hair, her words frosting her mouth.

“Why not?” Peter unfolded his arms and stepped closer, stopping a feather breadth from her. Her perfume, some kind of flowery scent spiked his senses. “Because you might find out I’m right…about us?” His voice lowered to a husky tone, and he reached out, stroking her cheek with his knuckles. Soft silk. Air coagulated in his chest, then sizzled between his teeth. He had won her once… and would again…in time.

She remained silent, but he glimpsed the uncertainty in her gaze, and pressed his advantage. He lowered a hand to her shoulder, his fingers tangling in her hair, the string of beads at her collar. “Afraid you might find you still feel something for me?”

“The only thing I feel for you is loathing.” She twisted away from him, but her voice quivered.

His hand dropped to his side, and he tightened his abs, his pulse pounding through his bloodstream. “I could prove you wrong.”

Eager to avoid his magnetic pull, she backtracked away from him until her legs touched the sofa and she could escape him no further. Her cheeks looked frostbitten, and he frowned.

“It’s freezing in here,” he muttered, shifting gears. “Where’s the heater?”

Shrugging, she licked her lips. “I’m used to it.” She wrapped the scarf around her hands. “If it’s too tough for you, then leave.”

“In good time,” he baited, eclipsing the grunt about to erupt from his chest.

“Why are you here, Peter?” she challenged, taking the bait and flinging it back at him. “Besides trying to get me into bed.”