Page 27 of Ice Wolf
My worst fears confirmed.
Mr. Arrogant was my client and I’d need to get very close. My father’s words echoed in my ears and for a few seconds I felt nauseous. Why did karma hate me?
The man from the bar. Correction, the arrogant ass who’d… Sighing, I tried to nonchalantly wipe a bead of perspiration from my forehead.
He was the man who’d left me with the most intense ache I’d ever felt. Instinctively, I touched my lips. Oh, this was bad, oh-so bad.
Mr. Blue Eyes.
I’d thought, no, I’d prayed my instincts were wrong. I swallowed hard. The fact he was standing here and I’d need to pretend to be his girlfriend wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.
But it wasn’t the best either.
Especially since he obviously remembered the brief yet all-consuming moment of passion. I could tell that by the sly smile sliding slowly across his chiseled face. There was no mistaking what he was thinking, especially when his gaze swept all the way to the edge of the table before taking a deep breath and once again bringing his eyes to mine.
“Well. Well. If it isn’t the best kiss of my life,” he said as if he was an expert in passion. Oh, the grin on his face I didn’t just want to wipe off. I wanted to do so with a dull knife.
“That was you being a jerk. Which will not happen again.”
“Ouch. People usually need to spend more time with me before they can say that. How are you really doing, sweetheart?”
“Let’s get this straight, Mr. Masters. I am not now nor will I ever be your sweetheart.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
However, his arrogance was also evident. That irritated me, so much so I frowned and kept a hard glare on him. “Do you always go around attacking women you don’t know, Mr. Masters?”
“It’s Mr. Masters now. I never liked that before. Always makes me think of my father and if you know anything about him, you realize he’s quite the arrogant prick.”
Like father, like son.
“But when you say it, the way the syllables drip off your lips in such a seductive way, I think I like it.” Those baby blues lit up as if sparked by a firecracker.
I put my iPad down on the table and folded my arms. “I’m here to help you, Mr. Masters. I can’t do that unless you help me.” The man had purposely shown up looking like a slob. That was easy to read. His reputation as a nonconformist preceded him. Rules didn’t apply. It was another reason he’d found himself facing stiff penalties during his career.
The quick study had been worth the effort. At least I knew what I had to deal with.
Crap. Why did he have to be so damn good looking?
Chiseled jaw.
Sharp cheekbones.
Broad shoulders.
Plump lips meant for kissing.
Shit. I’d fantasized about my mysterious kisser just the night before. This had to be my worst nightmare. I looked away, trying to break the hypnotic hold he seemed to have over me.
Suddenly, he was leaning over the table, his massive body coming dangerous close to mine. I refused to pull away. That’s exactly what he wanted.
“Do I make you nervous, Ms. Weathers?”
I had to put my foot down right now or he’d do nothing but try to take advantage of me. I planted my hands on the table, also leaning over exactly as he was doing. Now it was our lips that were perilously close, so close I gathered a whiff of pepperminton his breath. The strange interaction with his musky aftershave was almost too much for my senses.
But I refused to blink, offering him the same kind of smile he’d done with me. “Not at all. If that’s what you’re trying to do, you should stick to hockey. You know, making a shot and seeing if you score a three pointer.”
His grin widened and I’ll be damned if he didn’t close the distance. A single breath and we’d be kissing. “You don’t know a single thing about hockey. Do you?”
