Breath of Scandal - Page 133

His kiss had rocked her, yes. It had terrified her, certainly. But coupled with these reactions she had come to regard as normal for herself, there was an additional confusion arising from a deep-seated curiosity over what would have happened if she hadn’t stopped him.

Through a sleepless night, she had played mind games with herself: What would the outcome have been if her no’s hadn’t been adamant enough to quell his desire? No matter how she posed this hypothetical question to herself, the answer was always the same. His caresses would have become more urgent. Shortly, clothes would have become an impediment, and eventually he would have expected her to receive into herself that which had made a hard impression on her lower abdomen. He would know her intimately. She would know him, his strength, his power, his essence. The very thought of it made her tremulous inside and out, and not strictly from revulsion and fear. That was the source of her confusion. Why wasn’t she outraged? Why wasn’t she repulsed?

Hank’s attempts to woo her, once he understood her reluctance to be wooed, had been soft and sweet. There had been nothing soft in the way Dillon’s mouth had seized command of hers, nothing sweet in the hungry probing of his tongue. She hadn’t been kissed like that since Gary. If she was baldly honest, she would have to admit that she hadn’t been kissed like that ever.

Her rea

ction to Dillon’s aggression was conditioned. She had responded in a fashion symptomatic of her psychological problem. Yet, she hadn’t responded with her usual speed and inflexibility. She had granted him time and space in which to maneuver. Why? Because, in spite of his aggressiveness, his embrace had made her tingle in places she had believed were immune to sexual stimulation. Her heart had pounded not only with fear but with a peculiar excitement that, because of its strangeness, was equally as frightening. Her unprecedented reaction to it was as disturbing as the kiss itself.

That’s why she wasn’t equipped to deal with it right now. Her encounter with Neal, his veiled threats, had left her feeling frightened and vulnerable. Cathy had predicted that they would attack her through Graham. She vowed to redouble her efforts to keep him away from them.

Her most pressing problem, however, was reestablishing a working relationship with Dillon. That must be dealt with immediately, for the good of the project.

Temporarily shelving her concern for Graham, she said, “Sit down, Dillon. Tell me about the concrete contractors you have in mind for the job.”

He took a seat while she poured their coffee. Knowing by now that he drank his black, she handed him a steaming mug, then moved behind her desk and sat down.

“I’ve narrowed it down to three bids,” he said, passing her a folder he had carried in with him. “They’re in no particular order.”

She glanced through the three bids Dillon had received, then returned to the first one and began to read more thoroughly. He fidgeted in his chair. She knew he was about to speak before he uttered a single sound.

“I feel like I should apologize to you, Jade, but I’m not sure why or what for.”

“No apology is necessary.”

“I can tell you’re upset.”

“I’m upset, but it has nothing to do with you.”

She kept her eyes on the sheets before her but retained very little of what she read. Her concentration kept drifting to the memory of how his mustache had felt against her mouth.

“You set me straight on that once, about kissing you, I mean.”

“I remember that conversation.”

“That time I kissed you in the limo… well, I want you to know that that was something entirely different from last night. Last night—”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation.”

“Nevertheless, I don’t want you to think that I’ve read anything into your friendliness.”

“I don’t think that.”

“You haven’t put out any sexy signals.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I didn’t plan on kissing you, Jade. It was spontaneous.”

“I understand.”

“If you had told me sooner that you didn’t like it—”

“I never said I didn’t like it.”

Only after she heard her own words did she realize what she had admitted. Their eyes connected, soundlessly but jarringly. She drew in a swift breath. It was no armor against the intensity of his gaze.

“Then you did like it?” he asked gruffly.

Tags: Sandra Brown Romance
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