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a book.”

He watched as Allison stalked toward the door, then stopped to give him one last glare over her shoulder. Her anger was good, he told himself. Much better than having her warm, tempting, and willing in his arms. But the look she gave him cut straight through to his heart.

“Cute, Lawrence,” his editor said. “What’s your point?”

His gaze held Allison’s as he answered. “The point is, I need you to trust me.”

Allison’s mouth thinned before she turned and left him standing there.

“All right,” Penny growled. “You win. I’ll authorize payment of your outline-approval check. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he said, even though nothing could be further from the truth.

He glanced in the direction Allison had gone and remembered that strange, unfamiliar sensation that had moved through him, and the panic threatened to return. If that sensation was what he feared, he had a much bigger problem than he realized. He’d always considered falling in love akin to losing one’s sanity. But for him to fall for Allison St. Claire would be emotional suicide. Thank goodness he’d spotted the danger in time. Now he just needed to stay as far away from her as possible.

Chapter 16

Too busy to have sex? Ha! Like she was going to believe that. She wanted to wring Scott’s neck. Here she’d agonized for days about sleeping with him again, wondering if he wanted to, worrying about the complication. A torment of indecision. Then, when she finally makes up her mind, he says he’s too busy?

She couldn’t believe it.

She didn’t believe it.

Not after that kiss!

Only, why would he lie about such a thing? She pondered it for the rest of that day as the hurt of rejection wrestled with anger. By the following morning, though, anger had won out. How dare he lie to her? He had a right to tell her no, but he could have the decency to give her a reason rather than a ridiculous excuse. As petty as it was, she wanted him to pay for that. Not in a huge way—she wasn’t that childish—but she did want him to pay just a tiny bit for the days of soul-searching he’d put her through, only to be rejected with a lie.

Finally, she hit upon a subtle yet perfect way to extract revenge. Unfortunately, her plan would only work if he really did still want her. If he didn’t, she was about to make a colossal fool of herself.

Trying not to think about the potential humiliation, she carried a bucket of cleaning supplies and fresh linens to his room and gave the door a brisk knock. “It’s Allison. You decent?”

“Yes, come in,” he called.

Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door. He sat at the little desk by the windows that overlooked the cove.

Afternoon sunlight filled the room. As if oblivious to it, he stared at the laptop screen—as he always did when she came to clean his room.

“Making progress?” she asked, her voice cheerful.

“Some.” He answered without looking up.

So, he was going to pretend nothing had happened yesterday. Her eyes narrowed with determination. “Well, don’t mind me, I’ll be out of your way in a jiff.”

“Take your time.”

Humming a tune, she carried her bucket of cleaning supplies into the bathroom first, not that the room needed much cleaning. Scott was one of the neatest guests they’d ever had. Once the sink area and shower were sparkling, she headed back into the main room to change the sheets.

She watched him in the mirror on the armoire as she bent forward to strip the sheets. She’d worn a gauzy sundress without a slip. While it wasn’t indecent, she hoped the hint of her silhouette would attract his attention. At first, he didn’t look. Then his gaze strayed to her backside and the heat that smoldered in his eyes bolstered her courage. “Google eyes,” as Chloe would say.

Oh yes, Scott Lawrence wanted her, all right. To torture him just a bit, she bent over as frequently as possible as she finished making the bed. The minute she straightened and turned, though, his attention snapped back to his computer screen and his fingers started clicking away at the keyboard.

Swaying her hips, she headed for the sitting area with a feather duster. His fingers stilled on the keyboard when she moved by him, leaving a faint trail of the perfume she’d dabbed on before coming upstairs.

Scott’s nostrils flared in an effort to catch the scent. Winsome and mysterious, like some rare night-blooming flower.

“Do you want me to dust off the desk?”

“No!” he answered abruptly. Pushing her away yesterday had nearly killed him. No way did he want her that close again.

“Very well.” She moved about the sitting area, shaking out curtains and fluffing the little decorative pillows on the settee. Sunlight poured over her, making her look as ethereal as she had the first time he’d seen her. Then he realized the light shone straight through her dress, outlining her legs. Oh God. A bolt of desire shot to his groin.

He dipped his head forward and shielded his eyes with one hand.

“Scott?” she said, and the sound of his name spoken with that proper, lady-of-the-manor voice sent another jolt through his senses. “I know you’re terribly busy, and I hate to bother you, but I’ve been wondering about something.”

“Yes?” Just don’t look at her, he told himself. Don’t look and you’ll be fine.

“It’s about my voice. You said it turned you on, something about it making you... ‘hot.’ I believe that was your word... so I was wondering, do you think it has that effect on other men?”

Slowly, he raised his head and looked at her over his hand. She stood there, her expression so innocent, she all but blinked her eyes at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I just thought it would be a good thing to know. If my voice does turn men on, maybe I could learn to use it more effectively. You know, practice some of the words and phrases

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