The winning smile disappeared, and he looked injured. “That was uncalled for,” he said, his voice low and soft with disappointment.
“I’m sorry.” And she was. “A joke, and a bad one.”
He’d been getting too close, pushing all her buttons. She wanted to back him off a bit.
“Last week notwithstanding, I know how to handle myself both personally and professionally,” he said stiffly.
“I know. I apologize.”
Didn’t he understand? Didn’t he feel the buzz? She needed to distance herself, because having him so near was becoming too much for her to handle. Millie had spent the better part of the week reminding herself this was a dangerous situation for both of them.
Or maybe it was only dangerous for her. Maybe he wasn’t actually interested in her but just…felt lonely that night.
Either way, she needed to buckle down and tough it out. She could get through the next twenty-four hours without doing something she couldn’t undo. Then, once he was safely on a plane winging his way west, she could think about him.
“Aren’t you on my side?”
The question surprised her. She looked up to find him searching her face as though the answer might be tattooed on her forehead. She hoped he was getting a clear read on the indignation flaring in her cheeks. “What? Why would you ask me that? Of course I am. I’m the one who’s been standing right beside you all week.”
“I’m not questioning your loyalty to the school or your job, Millie. I’m asking you.” He paused long enough to take a deep breath. “Do you like me? As a person.” He added the last part in a rush, like he felt an urgent need to sew up any loopholes she might dive through.
Torn between being mortified and affronted, she did the only thing she could do when put squarely on the spot. She fired back with the truth. “Yes. Of course I do.”
“As much as I appreciate the ‘of courses,’ I’m well aware not everyone does like me, and I’m okay with that.” He gave her a wry little smile. “I’m not okay with you not liking me though.”
“I don’t,” she blurted.
He reared back as if she’d slapped him across the face.
Panic gripped her by the throat while she scrambled to rewind the last bit of conversation in her head. Sadly, her babbling came across every bit as muddled the second time through. “I mean, I do.” He cocked his head like a quizzical spaniel, and she blew out an exasperated huff. “I like you. There. I said it, okay?”
He opened his mouth to retort, then snapped his jaw shut. Then he smiled. Not one of those broad lady-killer grins but a small, pleased smile that made her feel fluttery inside. Which was disconcerting. She wasn’t a fluttery sort of woman. In fact, she prided herself on her logical, if not surgical, approach to life. She was strong. Decisive. Independent and opinionated. Millie liked to say she was a leader, not a lemming.
Her ex-husband simply called her a ballbuster.
Millie gave her head a hard shake. No sense in dwelling on ancient history. She needed to focus on the present. They were standing mere feet from their boss’s office, acting like a couple of junior high kids trying to decide if they were going to be an item. She needed to make it crystal clear that they couldn’t be one. Ty was still married.
Besides, he hadn’t said he liked her. He’d only asked if she liked him.
The whole thing was nuts. She should be focusing on ways to parlay the media attention into positive press for the university. Instead, here she was, breathing harder than she did in mile seventeen and wondering if he was going to kiss her again. His lips parted as if he’d read her mind. Her gaze zoomed in on his mouth like she was the director of some low-budget porn flick. The ridiculousness of the situation wasn’t lost on her, but she had a hard time mustering a laugh. Acting out of impulse and a healthy dose of self-preservation, she pressed her fingertips to his mouth and tried not to think about how impossibly soft his lips were.
Tried and failed.
“This is neither the time nor the place,” she managed in a desperate whisper.
He nodded almost imperceptibly, the movement so slight he didn’t even dislodge her hand. Millie’s breath caught in a snarl when he pursed his lips and kissed the pads of her fingertips. Curling her fingers into her palm, she let her hand fall to her side.
“Pick me up at six,” he ordered in a low, gruff voice. When she was slow to respond, he quirked a challenging brow. “You remember where I live, right?”
A strangled laugh escaped her, and she ducked her head, amused by his audacity. The drunk and discombobulated man was long gone. No sight of him all week. Thank God. In his place stood this quiet warrior, committed to doing what he needed to do to reclaim his life. And damn if his determination wasn’t as attractive as all get-out.
Chapter 4
The seats in first class were roomy, but they weren’t spacious enough for Ty. And he wasn’t bitching about the legroom. Hell, a court’s length of space could stretch between them, and his skin would still prickle every time Millie moved.
“I can’t believe they booked us first class,” she said for the tenth time.
They didn’t, he thought, pressing himself into the corner of his leather seat so he could watch her. I did. With her wild-cherry hair and ruthlessly coordinated cream-and-gold outfit, she looked like some kind of exotic butterfly. One who wore stiletto heels to tramp through the airport and pulled a pink-and-purple polka dot wheelie bag. She looked up to be sure he was still an active participant in her one-sided conversation, then returned to rummaging through the enormous tote
