it. Well, good. That’d make his life a hell of lot easier.
“You’re right about that,” he said. “I did want you to know. But only so you’d come after me and I could talk you into working with me. And I could have done that without what happened in that hotel room. It sure as hell would have been better for me. What I should have done was slip the damn Mickey into your wine at dinner like I’d planned and gone in when you were sound asleep.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Why? One simple reason. Her. He’d wanted her. More than he could remember wanting anything else in his life. More than made sense to him even now.
When he didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes. “I thought so. You’re a guy. You saw an opportunity to get lucky, and you took it.”
She didn’t have a clue what she’d done to him that night. What she was still doing to him. It hadn’t been only about getting lucky. There’d been more there. Right from the start. The fact she didn’t feel it told him everything he needed to know.
“I didn’t do the seducing in that hotel room.” He shook his head. “You might want to take a step down off that high horse and think back to what actually happened that night, querida.”
“I know what happened. You stole from me!” It took every last bit of strength he had to keep his voice even and void of emotion. “You want the truth? Stealing from you was the only smart thing I did that night. Wanting you more than that damn rock was my biggest mistake. It still is.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lisa stood motionless after Rafe left the room, unable to move or even think. She wasn’t sure what had just happened. She’d pushed, as she always did, but he hadn’t backed down. In fact, he’d pushed back so hard, he’d damn near knocked her on her ass.
Wanting you more than that damn rock was my biggest mistake. It still is.
The raw emotion she’d heard in his voice told her he was telling the truth, and it nearly stopped her heart.
Her legs felt like jelly, her stomach a hot coil of nerves. But it was the erratic trip of her pulse that kept her from moving. That and the twenty-pound weights suddenly attached to the soles of her shoes.
Oh, God. He was right. She’d done the seducing that night. She’d wanted him with an overwhelming need that had made her throw all rational thought aside. She’d made every first move there was, had all but begged him to take her. She’d known—even then she’d known—she’d been in complete control in that hotel room. She’d read it in his eyes when she’d kissed him in the lecture hall, had felt it as soon as he’d touched her. The man had been so far gone he couldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to.
And he definitely hadn’t wanted to say no. He’d wanted her.
Still wanted her.
Her mind skipped back to the night in Shane’s kitchen when she’d been ready to jump him and he’d held back. To the kiss at Landau’s party when he’d told her with his mouth just what he wanted to do to her body. And it dawned on her that he’d kissed her that night in a public place where nothing else could happen between them. Each time he’d made it clear he was more than interested, and each time he’d backed away, leaving the decision of where they went completely up to her.
Her eyes darted toward the arched doorway leading into the living room. He’d done it again, this time with words, and she wasn’t about to let him lay that on her and then walk away.
He’d taken one of the five guest rooms on the second floor; she knew because she heard water running from the end of the hall. She pushed the door open and took a sweep of the room.
Guest room was a loose term. She’d peeked around when he’d been outside with Pete, and each of the “guest” rooms in the lavish house were bigger than her whole apartment back in San Francisco. This one was done in deep tans and dark wood tones, with gauzy curtains at the windows and a masculine-looking four-poster bed.
His open bag sat on a nearby leather side chair. His shoes and shirt were tossed on the floor as if he’d just ripped them off. When the shower started in the bathroom, her