Sandra Marton - The Sexiest Man Alive

Matthew couldn’t help it. He snorted. Big mistake. He knew it instantly, but it was too late.

Susannah’s eyes dashed.

“You find this amusing, Mr. Romano?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “no, certainly not. It’s just...”

Oh, hell. He couldn’t help it. He snorted again.

Her face flamed. “I was right,” she said, slamming her hand against his chest. “You really are a horrible human being! I almost broke my neck, and you sit there laughing?”

“I’m not Laughing at you, I mean. It’s just that—”

“It was all your fault, anyway. I’d never have slipped if you hadn’t come after me.”

“Now, wait just a minute, Miss Madison. I did not—”

“You did I should have expected it. I mean, a man like you would never let anybody get away with one-upping him.”

Matthew jerked back “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Susannah said coldly. “I showed you up for the rat you are, and you couldn’t handle it. So you—you came stalking after me.”

“I what?”

“Who knew what you were going to do? No wonder I tried to get away. No wonder I tripped and fell. No wonder—”

“Either you’re a world-class har, Miss Madison—”

“I never lie, Mr. Romano!”

“Or you’ve got an imagination big enough to fill this room!”

“Are you trying to deny that you came after me a few minutes ago?”

Matthew glared at her. “Are you trying to deny that you insulted me?”

“I just told you the truth.”

“You insulted me, Miss Madison. And you challenged my manhood.”

Susannah blinked. “Excuse me?”

“All that garbage about me not being able to turn a real woman on and dumb blondes being the only ones who’d go out with me—”

“Not all blondes are dumb, of course,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I guess that limits your field.”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t it bother you to condemn the members of your own sex that way?”

“Why should it? I’m not a card-carryng feminist. I believe in equal opportunity for women, but I don’t believe all women are equal. If there are lowbrow idiots out there who can be turned on by a man with a lot of money and a little bit of looks—a very little bit—so be it.”

“So, I’m incapable of turning a woman on?”

“If she doesn’t owe points on an intelligence scale? Damned right, Mr. Romano!”

“Would it surprise you to know that the woman I’m currently seeing is an attorney?”

Susannah laughed. Dammit, he didn’t blame her. What was he going to do? Trot out the pedigree of every female in his past?

“I suppose,” he said coldly, “your IQ is high enough so that you consider yourself immune to—how did you put it? A man with a whole lot of money and a little bit of good looks.”

“Definitely.”

“That, then, is why you don’t find me...” He smiled nastily. “What was your phrase, Miss Madison? Ah, yes. Studly.”

Pink color swept into her cheeks. What kind of conversation was this? And why were they having it with her seated in Matthew Romano’s lap?

In his lap? Good grief! What she doing still sitting, in his arms?

Susannah pulled back.

“Let me up, please.”

“Does Peter have a whole lot of money and a little bit of good looks?”

“What?”

What, indeed? Why had he asked her about Peter? The men in Susannah Madison’s life were none of his business.

“What do you know about Peter?” she demanded. “Have you been spying on my private life, too?”

“The next time you send hugs and kisses to the man in your life, don’t do it via office E-mail.”

“That’s it,” Susannah said with quiet fury. “Let me up,!”

It was, Matthew knew, a logical request. There was no reason to keep her here, with her spiky hair inches from his nose. He leaned closer and sniffed. Her hair smelled faintly of flowers. And it only looked spiky. When his nose brushed against it, it felt silky. And soft.

“If you don’t let me up, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” He chuckled. “Yell? Scream? Call for your colleagues to break down the door and see their boss cozily occupying the lap of the studly enemy?”

Lord, oh, lord, why had she ever called him that?

“I am not cozily occupying your lap,” she said, with great dignity. “And I’ve already told you, you are not—”

“Studly?” Matthew said, and laughed.

The laugh, sly and low in his throat, did it. Susannah punched her fist into his shoulder.

“Let go,” she said furiously. “And tell me what’s so damned funny!”

“You, Miss Madison. You seem to think you can waltz through life saying whatever you like about people without ever having to pay the price.”

“If you mean that I speak my mind—”

“I mean exactly what I said. You’ve made some unpleasant accusations about me.”

“Let go,” Susannah panted, as she struggled to free herself from his arms.

Romano held her tighter.

“Unpleasant, and unwarranted. And I resent it.”

“Too bad.”

Matthew shifted his weight in the chair. The sudden movement tipped Susannah forward. Without thinking, she threw both arms around his neck to recapture her balance.

“Do you happen to know your IQ, Miss Madison?”

Susannah looked at Matthew Romano. His face was inches from hers, the cool blue eyes bottomless. She could see a tiny scar feathering out from beneath one eyebrow. Did it have something to do with that little jog in his nose? Somehow or other, despite the expensive suit, the faint but elegant cologne, the trappings of wealth that clung to this man, she had no difficulty picturing him getting his nose broken or his forehead cut. There was something intensely masculine about Matthew Romano, something that could surely make female hearts flutter.

Close up, he wasn’t quite the empty suit she’d imagined.

Actually, there was nothing empty about this suit, nothing at all. The arms that held her were powerful. The chest she leaned against was muscular, as were the thighs that cradled her bottom.

Susannah flushed.

All right. Perhaps there were things about him some women might find attractive. Some Not her.

“Doing an assessment?” he asked softly.

Susannah blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Matthew’s smile tilted “You seemed to be taking inventory, Miss Madison. I wonder—do I come up to par?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said coldly.

He laughed, and settled his arms more comfortably around her. “Let’s return to my question, shall we? Do you know your IQ?”

“I don’t see what my IQ has to do with anything, Mr. Romano.”

“Humor me.”

Susannah folded her arms. “Take two of your female friends, add them together and tack on half of one more, and you’re getting close.”

Matthew grinned. “That’s perfect.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

“It’s excellent.”

“I’m delighted you approve, but I fail to see what my IQ has to do with anything,”

“It’s quite simple, Miss Madison.” Matthew shifted her so that she was facing him. “I’m going to prove that you’re wrong, and I want to be sure to do it by a wide enough martin.”

“What?” Susannah said.

It was all she had time to say, because less than a heartbeat later, Matthew Romano’s mouth closed over hers.

His lips were firm and warm. They settled over hers with an authority that, for a second, anyway, stunned her into immobility.

But it didn’t last.

He knew the instant reality hit. She went from shocked compliance to horrified rigidity m his arms. Next, she’d begin to struggle. Except he wouldn’t let things go that far.