Jennifer Greene - Mesmerizing Stranger

“My excuse is that I seem to have given up sleeping. To add insult to injury, the less sleep I have, the stupider I get. So that’s pissed me off even more.”

“Ah, I’ll run for the hills then. I wouldn’t want to risk pissing off a hotsy-totsy corporate magnate.”

“I’m not a corporate magnate.”

“Well, you’re certainly crabby, whatever label you want to call yourself.”

His gaze narrowed with interest. “So why aren’t you running away?”

“You think I should?”

“Everybody else does.” It was her own doing that he ended up beside her. He could have stayed in that hunched position indefinitely. She was the one who lifted the blankets and unrolled a few extra feet of tarp. The tarp had obviously protected her from the damp deck, which she was willing to extend to him, as well.

Her kindness was definitely appreciated, because damn, it was cold up there. Only being half-prone next to her immediately provoked the idea of kissing her.

That idea had been growing on him since, oh, around a second after laying eyes on her. It’d be funny if it weren’t so incomprehensible. Inheriting the business had sliced his sex drive in half-or that’s what he’d been trying to tell himself. Since his uncle had died, he’d been hurling himself around the country nonstop, thrown into legal and ethical situations that just kept getting deeper and darker, so obviously, there’d been no time to meet a woman or form a relationship. Harm had rationalized for some time that all the stress had obliterated his sexual needs.

Looking at Cate forced him to recognize that need was alive and clamoring-noisy. And the more he felt the nearness of her, the more he realized that need hadn’t been satisfied in a long, long time.

“You don’t take nonsense from anyone, do you?” he asked curiously.

“Sure I do. Everybody does.”

But he didn’t. And he’d long wearied of people who took it from him. From school to the military, to the business crisis he was in now, people had always deferred to him. Always expected him to find answers, to come through. To not show weakness. Cate had challenged him from the start. It was refreshing…but yeah, a little unnerving. And rather than think about that unwanted sexual tug, he started a conversation. “What was your impression? Of my guys, the team at dinner?”

She leaned up on one elbow. “When you told me what the situation was, I specifically set the table with good crystal, the white tablecloth. Probably sounds silly to you…but I’ve always found that atmosphere affects behavior. I also think having strangers around your group-like me and Ivan and Hans-probably brought out more manners in your guys. People always behave better around strangers. Likewise, if you give boys mud and water, they’ll end up getting dirty. Put on the crystal, and they’ll tend to be more polite, to get along.”

He said, “I don’t know about the crystal. But you sure did something because you got them talking.”

“Not real talking. Just polite talking. I was hoping the atmosphere would help you figure out the crux of the problem.”

“Who my thief is.”

She frowned. “Where the poison in your company is,” she corrected him. “Same thing.”

“I don’t think so. The person who stole the formula not only stole the formula. He betrayed the team, hurt the other players-financially and job-wise-and is doing a pretty effective job of tearing down the company. Your uncle had lofty goals. So did they. The one who ripped that open took away some serious big dreams and goals, as well.”

“You’ve been thinking about this,” he said slowly.

“Not really. I don’t know anything. It’s just…an interesting problem. If the person did this right after your uncle died, then your uncle’s death must have provided them with an opportunity. Access. But I don’t get at all why someone would have done this. I’d think your whole team would have made a lot of money if that drug came through. So there’d have been no reason to steal. And then you described this group working as a team for quite some time. Working together, hoping together. So he was willing to tear apart the team, his friends, for some reason that I sure can’t imagine. I think you’ve got a guy on your hands who’s really, really angry. Angry about something that means a lot more than money to him.”

He absorbed what she’d said. He’d had no one to share the puzzle pieces with before-except for the P.I. company he’d hired, but they didn’t know enough about science to evaluate the possibilities for the how and why of a formula theft. Harm already knew he’d likely have to figure this out himself.

Cate, though, had different perceptions than he did. And he found himself staring into those soft, liquid eyes. He was taken with her spirit, with her zest, with her fearlessness. But he was also concerned about letting her any closer-to him, to his men, to his problems. He didn’t want her exposed to danger.

He wasn’t positive she’d recognize danger if it bit her on the tush, which was possibly what prompted his change of subject. “Ivan give you any serious trouble?”

Instead of an answer, she smiled. “I’m not the kind of woman who needs protecting, Harm.”

And then-proving irrevocably that she needed serious protecting-she reached over and kissed him.

Nothing much shocked Harm, not anymore, but this sudden streak of lightning startled him completely. A dank, chill night turned sultry out of nowhere. Her lips were soft and warm and sassy. Her skinny body gave off more eclectic tension, more edgy hormones, than an invitation from any woman he could remember. Ever.

She lifted her mouth moments later, opened her eyes, looked straight at him. If she was shaken, it didn’t show.

“What was that for?” he asked, as if she hadn’t just rocked his sanity.

“You’re not really interested in me. I’m not really interested in you. But it’s been there, that little…sizzle. So I figured it’d be a good idea if we got it out of the way so we could both quit wondering about it.”

He almost denied that “wondering,” but there seemed no point in lying.

“So you think that settled the issue?”

“That was the idea. To settle it. I didn’t want it to be a problem for you. Or me.”

Clearly, she didn’t know him well enough to realize that he was morally, ethically and emotionally incapable of turning down a dare.

She was damned right. He wasn’t interested in her. Didn’t think for a second that she was interested in him. She was just…full of herself. And since she wanted to get something straight, he figured he’d better get something straight, too. Kittens shouldn’t risk playing with cougars.

So that’s why he kissed her. More or less because she’d kissed him, because…

Aw, hell. He forgot the reason the moment his lips sank against hers, and she sank back, back into that nest of warm blankets. Apparently, she liked playing with dynamite, because those light, lithe arms skidded up his shoulders, scooped around his neck.

He looked for caution. Brains. Fear. Nobody home there… All he found was naked curiosity and tantalizing interest and her returning his kisses as if she was determined to pile more tinder on an already thriving fire.

Her lips felt softer than a cushion. The taste of her was exotic and different and alluring. She made a sound, as if she’d found a new flavor of chocolate she liked. Opened her lips, invited his tongue. Damn woman.

She arched her flat chest against him, pushed up a knee in a gut response to that kick of lethal hormones. It wasn’t need bubbling up, Harm told himself. He didn’t acknowledge need, didn’t have time for need. That was something a man overcame to achieve what he wanted in life. So it couldn’t be need.