Page 6 of Tour Wars
Instead, she asked the question that had needled her for hours. “Why did you undermine me today? Why didn’t you target anyone else on that panel?”
He gave a small chuckle. “Because you were the only one worth challenging.”
Damn.How was she supposed to respond to that?
“I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t let me,” he said. “I knew you could hold your own. You’re just like me—nothing excites you more than a good battle of wits.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“So you say, but I’ve never seen you concede defeat in an argument. We’re more alike than you want to admit.”
Instead of firing back an angry retort, she stared at him in silence, unable to break free of his spell. She hated that she was even the slightest bit attracted to him. That she was suddenly gripped with the desire to break down their barriers and feel his mouth on hers.
Without thinking, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer until their lips met. Soft at first. Tentative. But then deeper, tasting beer on his tongue. And when his hands threaded through her hair and he plundered her mouth with a passionate kiss of his own, desire shot through her, igniting her entire body. An ache built up between her legs, reminding her it had been far too long since anyone had kissed her like this. With lust and longing. Like she was the only thing that mattered.
Until he pulled away and sprang up from the bed. Raking his hand through his hair, he stepped back. “Em…I…this is a bad idea.”
Fuck. He didn’t want her. Even if he’d kissed her back, he hadn’t meant it. Mustering up a tiny shred of dignity, she wiped her hand across her mouth, as though she was a prickly five-year-old trying to erase a kiss from her abuela. “You should go.”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He inched away. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And…um…good luck with your interviews.”
Then he was gone, slamming the door behind him.
How could she have thrown herself at him? Even if he enjoyed their rivalry, he didn’t want any more than that. Neither did she.
She lay down on the bed and let out a groan.
Worst. Conference. Ever.
CHAPTERTHREE
TJ leaned against the hallway, trying to catch his breath. Had he been hallucinating? Or had Em just kissed him?
Emilia Flores, who had once claimed she’d rather eat dirt than spend a minute alone with him. All because they’d gotten off to such a disastrous start last summer.
Even before he learned they’d be digging together at Troy, she’d been on his radar. Hard to ignore her when she’d already made a name for herself in Bronze Age archaeology. Three published articles, four presentations, and two panel sessions. He’d been keeping track. Since her theories conflicted with his, he’d quarreled with her in a few online forums. It didn’t help that they were academic rivals, what with him being a Harvard grad student and her being at Yale.
But last June, before leaving for Turkey, he’d offered her an olive branch. Upon discovering they were arriving in Istanbul on the same flight, he’d reached out to her. Thanks to a hot tip from a friend, he’d gotten a lead on a bargain-priced hotel in the popular Sultanahmet district. When he’d asked Emilia if he should book it for them, she’d agreed. But he’d screwed up.
His first mistake had been reserving only one room for the two of them as a way to cut costs. His second? Not taking the time to check the hotel’s reviews on Tripadvisor or Yelp. The place had been a filthy, one-star dump that smelled like a sewer. Naturally, Emilia hadn’t been impressed. Instead of apologizing, he’d gone on the defensive and accused her of being a diva.
He’d definitely been the asshole in that situation.
They’d spent the whole summer trying to one-up each other, until they’d bonded to save the project from their glory-hog of a dig director. By the last week at Troy, they’d started acting like friends. They’d even shared one memorable night where they’d spent hours talking about their shared Midwestern roots and the crushing weight of family expectations. But their animosity had returned after they’d flown back to the States and revived their academic feud. Now, they were competing for the exact same jobs.
The truth was, even if Emilia was a little strong-willed for his liking, he admired her. And helovedchallenging her. Not just because he enjoyed watching her dark eyes flash with anger whenever he bested her but because he considered her a worthy opponent. She was smart, driven, and just as competitive as he was. And a total knockout, with a sexy, toned figure and long black hair that fell past her shoulders in silken waves.
It pained him to admit he’d had more than a few fantasies about her. Not that he’d ever tell her. She’d either laugh at him or threaten to punch his lights out.
But damn, that kiss.
He’d wanted to keep going. To forget about everything except the taste and feel of her.
Get your shit together. You have three interviews tomorrow.
He pulled his key card out of his wallet, ambled down the hall, and let himself into his room. After changing for bed, he opened his laptop and reviewed his notes. Tomorrow morning, he had first-round interviews with Arizona State University, Northwestern, and UNC-Chapel Hill. Though he’d gladly take any of them, the Northwestern job would bring him closer to his family, who lived in the Chicago suburbs. Knowing Emilia, that was her top pick as well since it would put her less than two hours away from her family in Milwaukee.
Stop thinking about Emilia.
