Sweet Spot

“Because I’m so hard to resist?”

“Not for me.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re interested.”

If she’d been able to look at him for more than five seconds at a time without wanting to make moany noises, she might have picked up something heavy and clocked him on the head. As it was, he was telling the truth and she was too embarrassed to figure out a quick way to verbally eviscerate him. Which left her with the humiliating comeback of, “I’m not interested.”

He grinned. “That was convincing.”

“I don’t care what it is, it’s the truth.” Almost. Annoyance pushed her to honesty. “You know you’ve got a great body and you obviously enjoy flashing it at the world. Which means what? You’re well into your thirties. Shouldn’t you be over that by now? Shouldn’t you spend about a third as much time developing your mind as your body? You can’t be a football coach forever.”

Too late, she remembered that, yes, he could be a coach forever and that Raoul had mentioned something about him being a professional football player. Which probably meant he was rich.

“You’re assuming I’m stupid?” he asked in a tone that was both amused and outraged. “Is that because I have muscles or because I play football? Isn’t that the same as me assuming you’re an idiot because you’re a natural blonde?”

Maybe. Yes. She ignored the question. “How do you know I’m a natural blonde?”

“My excellent powers of observation.”

“I run a successful business. I’m obviously more than capable,” she said primly.

HAWK LIKED how Nicole got all pinchy when she was annoyed. He liked how every time he moved closer, she got flustered and didn’t know where to look. If she hadn’t been interested, she would have told him to back off and get away, but she hadn’t said a word. He liked that, too.

“Obviously,” he teased, as he moved closer.

“Don’t you have any respect for personal space?”

“No.”

She raised her head and glared, but before she could speak, he said, “You have beautiful eyes.”

Her mouth opened and closed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Flirting.”

“Why?”

“It’s fun.”

“Not for me.”

“Everyone enjoys attention.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“You don’t think your eyes are beautiful?”

“They’re fine. Functional. I don’t care about the color.”

“Sure you do. You have to know they’re pretty. You’re pretty.”

Nicole blushed.

He didn’t see it at first. She turned away and muttered something under her breath. All he caught were a couple of words, including “unbelievably arrogant” and “ego.” So he wasn’t paying attention until he saw her press her fingers to her cheeks as if trying to cool the skin.

Why would someone so together blush because he noticed she was pretty? Unless no one else bothered to look. He had a feeling she was the kind of woman who scared off men and then wondered why she was lonely.

He could fix that.

“You like me flirting with you,” he said. “It’s the best part of your day.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know.”

She groaned. “I don’t mean that in a good way. You are delusional. Nothing about you is the best part of my day.”

“Liar.”

She made a sound of frustration low in her throat. It was almost a growl. He wondered what she sounded like right before she lost control in bed. He had a feeling she would scream.

“Save the flirting for someone who’s interested,” she muttered, holding on to her cane so hard her knuckles turned white.

“You’re interested.”

She shook her head. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Sure, but this is more fun.”

“No, it’s not.”

He was getting to her. The blush deepened and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to throw herself at him or punch him. Frustration was good. It meant she was interested and annoyed with herself at the same time.

“We should go out,” he said, knowing the invitation would push her further off balance.

“What? No.”

“Dinner. We’ll go to dinner.”

“I’m not going to dinner with you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not a good idea.”

And the first round went to him. If she really hadn’t been interested, she would have told him directly.

“Sure it is.” He moved so close that she had to tilt her head back to continue to meet his gaze. “It’s an excellent idea.”