“I’m perfectly content to stay right here,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering in a way that kept her pulse scrambling frantically.
“Jason,” she warned, sensing that she was going to have to try those probably futile protests after all.
“Okay, we’re going,” he said, starting the engine. “But that’s not the end of this—not by a long shot.”
“It has to be,” she retorted quietly.
Serious eyes met hers. “Why?”
“I think that’s obvious.”
“Not to me.”
“Because you’re used to getting what you want.”
He nodded. “Remember that.”
“I don’t think I’m likely to forget it,” she murmured, grateful that the Halloran Industries building was just ahead.
How was she going to protect herself enough to keep from getting hurt when he remembered that they were all wrong for each other? He was pushy and demanding and powerful. She was struggling to carve a niche in the world. She wouldn’t have it handed to her. Power given as a gift could be taken away. How did she make him see that? How did she abstain from the temptation of those potent kisses, the gentle, alluring caresses?
Those questions taunted her as they toured the facility. She was fascinated with everything from the raw wool to the vats of dye, from the giant looms to the finished bolts of cloth. Though it was barely winter, they were already in production on summer fabrics: fine cottons being hand printed with wooden blocks that were centuries old and imported from France. She could have lingered for hours, absorbed by the magic of colorless threads being transformed into rainbows of prints.
Despite her fascination, however, not once could Dana seem to forget that Jason was beside her. One instant his hand was on her back as he guided her through a maze of machinery. Another moment his touch grazed her hand as he held out cloth for her to caress. Nothing, not the coolness of the silks, the soft shimmer of the satins or the richness of the wool blends, could compare with the impact of those seconds when Jason’s innocent touch skimmed over her flesh.
By the time they went into his office, Dana felt as if she’d spent six months in the Garden of Eden avoiding the first sinful bite of apple. Her nerves were raw. Desire simmered just below the surface, slamming into her consciousness with the slightest contact.
“How about a glass of wine?” Jason said, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Wine?”
“With lunch.”
Wine was the last thing she needed. She was already too warm, too giddy, deep inside where such reactions were dangerous. Inhibitions flickered too weakly, then disappeared altogether. She mustered one last bit of resolve.
“Just a cup of coffee,” she said. “I really should be getting back.”
“Not until you’ve had something to eat. Harriet ordered for us.”
Resolved or not, Dana had gone without on too many occasions to be able to leave food untouched. Reluctantly she sat down at the small table that had been set up by the window in Jason’s office. Outside the sun had broken through for the first time in days. It gave the city a silvery cast as it bounced off the windows of the skyscrapers in the distance.
Despite her feelings of guilt over the waste, she found herself merely picking at the lobster salad. She broke off chunks of a croissant and popped them into her mouth without really tasting the delicate, buttery flakiness. The only sensation she was truly aware of was the heat that flared deep inside her each time she met Jason’s intense gaze. She tried her best to avoid looking into the blue-gray depths, but again and again her gaze was drawn back.
It irritated the daylights out of her that the man made her so nervous. She’d been on countless dates. Goodness knows, she knew how to carry on a conversation. Most of the time she couldn’t seem to shut up. Now, just because she was alone with someone with a little bit of high-class polish, she felt all tongue-tied. No, she corrected. It had nothing to do with Jason’s class. The blame belonged on the responses he stirred in her.
Jason was just a man, Dana reminded herself.
Yeah, but what a man! countered a dreamy, feminine voice she’d never heard before.
Oh, grow up, Dana shot right back.
That’s the problem, honey. You’ve just grown up.
Dana was not at all pleased with the way this mental conversation was going. She wasn’t much happier with the fascinated expression on Jason’s face. He looked as if he could hear every word and was thoroughly enjoying his role in the unexpected awakening of her libido.
“Don’t even think about it,” she muttered, partly to him, partly to herself.
A knowing grin spread across Jason’s face. “Think about what?”
Dana threw down her napkin. “I have to get back to work. Would you call a cab for me?”
“You’re running,” he observed.
“Will you call the cab or should I do it myself?”
“I’ll take you back to work.”
When he made no move to get up, she said, “Now.”
“As soon as you’ve eaten your dessert. It’s cherry cobbler.”
Dana nearly groaned in frustration. How had Jason guessed that cobbler was her favorite? Had he done a background check? He was just the type to leave nothing to chance. Even so, that kind of attention to detail could too easily become addictive. When was the last time anyone had paid attention to what she wanted or needed? Sammy, who knew her better than anyone, couldn’t even remember her birthday.
Before Dana could protest that she was full—a blatant lie he’d see through in an instant, anyway—Jason was setting a warm bowl of the rich dessert in front of her. Ice cream melted over the pastry crust, just the way he knew she liked it. He looked so damned pleased with himself, so anxious to please her.
“You don’t leave anything to chance, do you?” She didn’t mean it as a compliment, but the resentment got lost
