His frown deepened, his expression turning wary. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
His attempt to dissemble didn’t fool her for a minute. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?”
He looked away, but he didn’t reply.
Pressing a man on something like this was a violation of feminine decorum, no doubt, but Delia had never been one to care about things like that, and when the carriage turned into the Savoy courtyard, she tossed aside euphemisms and cut to the chase. “You wanted to kiss me,” she said. “Why didn’t you?”
He gave a laugh, a harsh sound in the closed confines of the carriage. “God, woman,” he said and looked at her again. “You can certainly be direct when you want to be.”
“I can. Can you do the same? And please,” she added as he opened his mouth to reply, “don’t give me some excuse about how we work together, and it wouldn’t be honorable.”
“It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.”
“Perhaps, but it’s also not the real reason.”
He stirred in his seat, confirming the fact. “It’s a very large part of the reason, believe me.”
“There must be more to it than that.”
His lashes lowered, his gaze raking over her in a way that made her breath catch and her toes curl in her shoes.
“Very well, if you must know.” His voice was harsh, without a shred of romantic tenderness, and yet, by the time he looked into her eyes again, her pulse was hammering. “Kissing you would be likelighting a match in a room full of gunpowder. And explosions like that can annihilate a man.”
Her heart slammed into her ribs with enough force to steal the breath from her lungs, and it was a long moment before she could manage a reply. “Heavens,” she said, trying to make her voice offhand and lightly flirtatious, but despite her efforts, the word came out in a breathless rush. “What a delightful prospect.”
“Not for me,” he said grimly as the carriage came to a halt. “But I hope,” he added as the doorman opened the door for them, “your curiosity is now satisfied.”
“Not really,” she confessed, stepping out of the carriage and turning toward him as he followed her out of the vehicle. “I’ve never been in an explosion like that. I’d love to find out what it’s like.”
“You won’t, not from me.”
A rejection if ever there was one, but strangely, she wasn’t the least bit insulted by it. “That sounds like a dare,” she said, smiling. “And I never, ever refuse a dare.”
With that parting shot, she turned away, but behind her, she heard him mutter under his breath, “God help me now.”
She didn’t reply, but as she walked toward the entrance to the hotel, she felt a delicious little thrill of anticipation, and she laughed aloud. This was going to be fun.
This was going to be hell.
Simon followed her into the hotel, her laughter ringing in his ears, and as he studied the slim, straight line of her back, the deep dip of her waist, and the sultry swing of her hips, he couldn’t help wondering just how a man could escape a hell as delectable as that.
That he wanted her was aggravating, and the fact that she knewonly made it worse. But the most damnable part of it all was that he knew she didn’t want him, not really. She just wanted the challenge of bringing him to his knees. And if he didn’t find a way to shore up his defenses, she might very well succeed.
What a humiliating thought.
He could dump her in Helen’s lap, he supposed. That would be no more than she deserved, the flirtatious devil.
His second option was to just fire her, thereby sparing everyone the bother of investigating her and spare himself the frustration of keeping her at arm’s length and pretending he was immune to her charms when they both knew damn well it was a hum.
But even as these possible solutions to his problem went through his mind, he knew neither of them were viable. As to the former, Helen had enough on her plate. She didn’t need one more burden. As to the latter, firing Delia because he found her unbearably tempting was both unfair and cowardly. And both options were an admission that he was as weak as water where she was concerned. He’d rather be tortured on the rack than make an admission like that.
No, he decided as he followed her across the lobby toward the lift, the only thing to do was keep up a wall of indifference until this Savoy business was settled and he could get clear of her.
That resolution had barely gone through his head before she came to an abrupt halt and turned to smile at him as if she’d known he was behind her the entire time.
“Why, Lord Calderon, are you following me to my room?” she asked, making the question sound every bit as naughty as the thoughts that had been going through his mind when he’d kissed her.
“No,” he corrected, his voice as firm as he could make it. “I’m going to mine.”
