Morgan sat silently, a frown transforming her face into a guilty expression. Her gaze dropped to the blotter on her desk. “We need to stop this. It isn’t going to change the past, so we might as well put it behind us and try to be civil.”
“Of course.” River pressed his fingertips together thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t want to cause a scandal for the Steele family. Again.”
“River...” she warned.
“Like I said before, I want this project to be a success. We have some important work ahead of us. So you’re right, we can’t let our past interfere. Truce?” He arched his brow at her in a challenge. He knew he could behave, but silencing her sharp tongue might prove more difficult.
Morgan breathed a sigh of relief and her practiced smile returned to her face. She seemed confident in her abilities. He almost missed her anger once it was tamped down. At least that was a real emotion.
“Truce,” she said and offered her hand across her desk.
Tentatively, River reached out and took it. Instantly a sizzle traveled up his arm and down his spine, exploding in his groin like a shockwave of arousal. He pulled away as quickly as he could and buried his hand beneath the desk to rub the sensation off his palm and onto his pant leg. It had been like that the night of the party, too, making him both eager and cautious about touching her again.
They might be calling a truce on their fight, but the connection between him and Morgan was far from over.
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