CHAPTER TWO

      RONAN’S HEAD SNAPPED back with the force of her slap. But he only grinned. Even though his cheek was stinging, that kiss had been totally worth it. He could taste her still on his lips. She was so damn sweet.

      How could she taste so sweet when she was such a hard and vicious woman? Yeah, he’d needed that slap to bring him to his senses before he did something stupid, like pull that bow loose on her shoulder.

      What would she do if he did that? Slap him again? Seeing her without the camisole, that would undoubtedly be worth another slap, though. He could see her tightened nipples pushing against the thin silk. She wore nothing beneath that camisole but her honey-toned skin. He wanted to close his lips around one of those distended nipples and tug at it until she cried out and begged for more.

      His fingers still on that bow, he toyed with the end of it. One tug was all it would take.

      But then she smacked his hand away and shoved him back with her palm against his chest. “Don’t you dare!”

      “Don’t dare me,” he advised her. He was the kid who would have stuck his tongue on the icy flagpole with the first dare. He wouldn’t have even needed to be double dared. He lifted his hand toward her shoulder again.

      She jerked up her sweater and wrapped it tightly around herself, as if he would have forcibly undressed her. As if anyone would need to. On all those billboards and magazine covers, she wore barely more than her seductive smile. Usually just a few scraps of lace or silk.

      “What game are you playing?” he asked her. She was not a modest woman, but she was a cunning one. Those forged documents proved that. “Game?” she asked, her husky voice pitched higher than usual with outrage. “You’re the one who kissed me.”

      “You trapped us in this elevator and climbed all over me,” he pointed out. Was she trying to seduce him? Or just sexually tease him into madness?

      “I fell on you,” she said. “And I did not trap you.”

      He snorted. “I wasn’t the one playing with the control panel, punching in every damn floor before you stopped it entirely.”

      “I stopped it,” she said, “because I wanted to stop you from harassing Bette anymore.”

      “I’m not going to harass Bette,” he said. For one—Simon would kill him if he did. The guy was already furious with him over some things Ronan had said to her. Poor Simon had fallen hard for his mousy former assistant.

      But then, maybe Bette wasn’t that mousy—to a guy who liked the sexy librarian type.

      That wasn’t Ronan’s style. He didn’t want someone repressed. He wanted someone as wild and adventurous and as into sex as he was.

      Muriel stepped in front of the elevator doors, as if she could stop him. “No. You’re not talking to Bette at all anymore.”

      He didn’t want to talk to Bette. He didn’t want to talk at all. He wanted Muriel back in his arms, her body pressed to his. She was the one, the female who might finally match his appetites in the bedroom and wherever else they might dare to do it...

      “We’re stuck here,” he reminded her. And as he said it, the elevator rocked and creaked.

      And Muriel gasped and shot forward—straight into his arms.

      “Did you fall again?” Ronan teased her. “I wouldn’t think a supermodel would be as clumsy as you are.”

      Despite glaring at him, she remained in his arms with hers locked around his shoulders. “Didn’t you feel that? We’re falling again.”

      “I’ve never fallen before,” he told her. “So I’m not about to fall now...” And especially not for a man-eater like Muriel Sanz.

      Then he realized what she meant even before she murmured, “I was talking about the elevator.” Then she started laughing, and as she laughed, she stepped back and dropped her arms from around his shoulders. “I wasn’t talking about falling for you. You can’t believe I would actually fall for you.”

      He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. She made it sound ridiculous that she could care for him. Plenty of other women claimed that they had. But then, he hadn’t had the relationship with those other women that he had with her. Actually, he hadn’t ever had a real relationship with anyone.

      Just sex...

      And he would like to have that with her, even though she was trying to destroy his career. Because from that kiss, he knew it would be good between them. Hell, it would be better than good; it might be great.

      He hadn’t had great in a while—probably because every time he’d been with a woman the past few months, he’d imagined that woman was Muriel and he’d been disappointed when he’d realized she wasn’t.

      “I would never make the mistake of thinking you could love me,” he assured her. “I don’t think you’re any more capable of really falling in love than I am.”

      “I was married,” she said, “until you ended that.”

      “You ended that with your cheating.”

      She lifted her hand, but before she could swing it toward his face, he caught her wrist. Through gritted teeth, she told him, “I did not cheat.”

      He snorted again, almost amused over her show of righteous indignation. She could be one of those models who easily crossed over into acting; she had the skills. “So how did your ex find so many witnesses who testified otherwise then?”

      Her green eyes widened. “My ex...? He found the witnesses? I thought you did—you or that PR firm.”

      “Yeah, that was your second mistake when you forged those notes that supposedly came from my case files,” he said. “You made it sound as though I found the witnesses.” He shook his head. “And that wasn’t true.”

      She glared at him. “What those witnesses said wasn’t true. They perjured themselves and you knew it.”

      “And that was your first mistake,” he said. He stepped closer now, pressing his chest up against her breasts. “Trying to blame me for your bad choices.”

      “Bad choices?” she repeated. “My only bad choice was getting married in the first place.”

      He nodded. “In that, we are in complete agreement. Marriage is always a mistake.” His parents’ marriage had showed him that. Their constant fighting was why he’d run away from home for a while in his teenage years. “People aren’t meant to be monogamous.”

      “Many people are,” she said.

      He shook his head now. “Not people like you and me, Muriel.” He skimmed his fingertips along her jaw, down her throat to push her sweater from one shoulder. Then he toyed with that bow again. He was so tempted to tug it loose. So damn tempted.

      His fingers twitched and the bow began to loosen. Then the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

      Muriel stepped back through the doors. But as she did, she reached out and struck a button on the control panel. The doors closed as she turned and ran down the hall.