She kept her lips firmly clamped together, but the feather-light whisper of his tongue put paid to all her good intentions and she found her lips drifting open to welcome him.
It was nothing like the frantic kisses they had shared in the lift—those had been born of desire gone out of control. These kisses were deliberate, and infinitely more subtle—a slow, drugging build-up which promised even more delights to follow.
And if she didn’t do something soon she would find herself in the same compromising position she had been in five years ago. Only this time she would not be able to put the blame on youth and inexperience.
Dragging herself out of the erotic spell he had cast over her, Romy put the palms of her hands against the solid muscle of Dominic’s chest and somehow resisted stroking him there.
‘Shouldn’t you...’ She stumbled over the words, drawing in a deep breath to give her strength. ‘I mean—didn’t you say you had a meeting?’
‘I did, and I have,’ he replied, his eyes glittering with silver fire. ‘Which is either bad or good timing, depending on your point of view.’
‘Good, I think,’ said Romy calmly, which was a miracle in itself, considering that her pulse was hammering so frantically that she felt as if she might explode any minute!
‘So, does my desire make you reconsider accepting the job, Romy?’
She gave him a glacial smile. As if that made any difference! This man had given her enough angst to last several lifetimes and still have plenty left over! In fact, she would have gone to a therapist about him years ago—except that she resented the idea of paying thousands of pounds simply to talk about Dominic Dashwood!
And maybe the only cure for getting the man out of her system was to confront him.
Her eyes were as dark as treacle as she drew her shoulders back, like someone squaring up for a fight. ‘Back out of the job now? You must be kidding!’ she told him in a determined voice. ‘If you think I scare that easily...’
‘Well, maybe my desire doesn’t frighten you,’ he mocked quietly, ‘but what about yours for me? Or are you going to play shocked now, and deny that you enjoyed that kiss just as much as I did?’
‘On the contrary,’ answered Romy coolly. ‘You know damned well I enjoyed it! Some people might despair of that fact, but not me, Dominic. Because I don’t think that the situation is entirely hopeless, you see.’
He looked bemused. ‘You don’t?’
‘No, indeed. I shall look on my weekend here with you as a kind of saturation therapy.’
He frowned faintly. ‘Saturation therapy?’
Romy nodded her blonde head vigorously. ‘Yes. You know! Like when people have a phobia about spiders—they are put in a room and exposed to hundreds of the revolting things!’
There was a long and disbelieving pause, and then he actually tipped his dark head back and started laughing. And Romy realised just how dangerous he would be if he ever decided to exercise some of that ravishing charm of his.
Eventually he looked down at her, bemused merriment dancing reluctantly in his eyes. ‘And does it work?’ he queried gravely. ‘This saturation therapy?’
She certainly hoped so; she was banking on it. ‘Definitely!’
‘Well, it remains to be seen whether exposure therapy—’ and his mouth twitched ‘—will be as successful as you think, Romy, but it should be an interesting experiment in any case.’
He opened the car door for her and she levered herself into the low-slung vehicle, thanking her good sense in deciding to wear trousers and not a mini-skirt. But even so he made absolutely no attempt to hide his interested gaze as it slowly travelled up a thigh which was clearly outlined by the delicate material!
His eyes glinted as he bent down to speak to her through the open window. ‘Until Tuesday, then,’ he murmured. ‘Where shall we eat? I know a couple of good restaurants near you—’
‘And so do I!’ she declared indignantly. ‘I’m the one who lives there! Or do you think that because I’m a woman I’m incapable of doing anything as complicated as lifting the phone and asking to make a reservation?’
‘Very well, then. You book it.’ He held up his hands in a gesture of terrified mock surrender. ‘I bow to feminism and women’s liberation and to every other worthy cause you’ve doubtless embraced during the last five years, Romy!’
She glared at him suspiciously. She had the strongest feeling he was making fun of her. ‘Are you what is commonly called a male chauvinist pig, Dominic?’ she quizzed sweetly.
His eyes glittered. ‘You’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t you, sweetheart?’
‘I’m afraid that I shall be far too busy making sure your guests are happy to pay much attention to you and your mannerisms, Dominic!’
He shook his dark head regretfully. ‘You speak with such spirit,’ he sighed. ‘Such a pity we both know that in your case it’s all bravado—’
‘Meaning what?’ she demanded shrilly.
He shrugged. ‘Meaning that you secretly long to revert to type, don’t you, Romy? And swoon in my arms in the most subservient way possible?’
‘Are you deliberately coming out with outrageous statements like that in order to get me to flounce out of here without a backward glance?’
He gave her a mystified look. ‘Now why would I want to do that?’
‘Because you still haven’t identified your motives for employing me,’ said Romy, and then, seeing him begin to open his mouth, shook her blonde head emphatically. ‘And don’t give me all that stuff about me being the best for the job—’
‘But you are,’ he interrupted drawlingly.
‘I know I am,’ she answered, determined not to show any false modesty. ‘But there really isn’t that much difference between me and my competitors—not so’s you’d notice, anyway.’
‘And have you identified your own motives for being here?’ he parried softly.
‘Sure I have.’ She smiled. ‘Curiosity, mainly. And the desire to get you out of my system.’
‘Succinctly put,’ he acknowledged wryly. ‘And my own sentiments entirely. Though I suspect that our intended methods may differ. Now...’ He smiled in a darkly sensual way that had Romy tied up in knots. ‘Shall I pick you up around eight on Tuesday?’
‘No. I’ll ring you.’ Romy turned on the ignition with a violent click as she squirmed to try and get rid of the hot, bubbling awareness he always seemed to stir up in her.
‘And I’m quite capable of meeting you at the restaurant, you know, Dominic! Gone are the days when women wait at home to be picked up—like a parcel at the post office!’ And with that she slammed her foot down on the accelerator harder than she had ever done before.
She dug two little trenches in the gravel as she screeched her way down the drive, but Dominic scarcely noticed. He just stood watching as the little black car disappeared, his face hard and unmoving, a series of dark, unreadable shadows.
He had not been so stimulated by a woman for years—well, for five years, to be exact.
He shifted uncomfortably as he registered the full, throbbing ache of his desire, anticipating that delicious and long-overdue moment when Romy Salisbury would at last lie beneath him, crying out her pleasure...