Angie and Rhys stood frozen in position for a moment, and then she pulled away from him. “What was that?” she demanded, feeling as if she’d survived a tornado.
Grimacing ruefully, Rhys ran a hand through his hair and attempted a smile. “That was a crazy man. He’s loud and tactless, chauvinistic and sometimes arrogant. He’s also generous, softhearted, brave and trustworthy. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Just about the only friend,” he added candidly.
Touched by his words, Angie almost softened, and then she stiffened again. “Why in the world did you want your friend to think that you and I—that we—”
Rhys cleared his throat when her voice trailed off for lack of an appropriate phrase. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugged. “I was—uh—trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” Angie asked in disbelief.
“Well, I’m very fond of Graham, of course, but he’s a bit of a womanizer. Terrible reputation.”
Temper building, Angie planted her hands on her hips and glared at him, foot tapping irritably on the plush carpeting. “And just who asked you to protect me—from Graham or anything else? You allowed your friend to believe that you and I are involved in an affair, Rhys, and I don’t appreciate that at all! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides,” she added, growing more angry by the minute, “for all you knew, I wanted to go out with him! Maybe I was going to say yes to his invita—”
Even in her unwelcome fantasies, Angie had never realized quite how powerful Rhys Wakefield’s kiss would be. She hadn’t even seen him move. Yet now she found herself gripped tightly in his arms, his mouth moving forcefully on hers. There wasn’t much she could do except clutch his lapels and hold on as she was whirled into the middle of a second, even more mind-spinning tornado than the one Graham had brought with him into the formerly quiet office.
The embrace was rough and showed little evidence of smooth, practiced skill, but the underlying hunger and passion devastated her. She’d never been kissed like this. With a muffled moan, her lips opened to his insistent tongue, and she was unable to prevent herself from responding to the kiss with a helpless desire of her own. She’d been fantasizing about this moment for too long.
His body was hard and warm through his tailored suit. The body she’d seen in such detail in his bedroom. The body that had haunted her ever since. She hadn’t even begun to imagine how incredible it would feel pressed against hers.
His mouth was hot, clever, surprisingly soft. She hadn’t known how wonderful he would taste.
His hands were firm, strong, possessive. They swept her back in long, slow arcs, leaving her aching and quivering in their wake. She wanted more.
Her building desire finally gave her the strength to pull away from him before she did something utterly foolish. She stood staring at Rhys, and he at her, for a long, tense moment. And then she finally, unsteadily managed one word, “Why?”
Rhys’s voice was gruff. “If you didn’t realize that’s been building from the beginning, then you’re not quite as intelligent as I’ve been giving you credit for.”
His words—and the look in his eyes—had her backing frantically away. “Rhys, no. I don’t want this. We can’t—”
“I think we already are.”
Her hands came up instinctively, palms toward him as if to ward him off. “No. I can’t afford to get involved with you. Not in that sort of way. I work for you. I want to keep it at that.”
His strong chin lifting, Rhys glowered at her, obviously stung by her near panic. “You can relax, Angelique. I’ve never forced myself on a woman before and I’m not going to begin with you. You wanted that kiss as badly as I did. You responded—fully.”
“It can’t happen again,” she said, her voice gaining strength, steadier now. “Not if I’m going to continue to work for you.”
“I suppose that’s up to you.”
He looked so distant, she thought, studying him gravely. So isolated. Much as he had the first time she’d seen him. She hadn’t realized until now how his manner had softened toward her during the past six months. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t noticed his attitude changing toward anyone else. Only to her—and to the man he’d called his only friend. A curious pang of loss shot through her. One she had to ignore. She couldn’t afford to indulge in an affair with her boss. She’d suffered too many losses in her life lately to deliberately flirt with another, potentially more devastating one.
“I hope that we’ll be able to work together as we always have, that we’ll be able to put this behind us,” she said quietly.
“I see no reason why we shouldn’t,” he replied coolly. He turned away, his profile unreadable. “As a matter of fact, there’s quite a bit that needs to be done now. I want you to set up a meeting with all the department heads. Have June type these notes and make copies for everyone. Get me some cost figures together from engineering and have them included in the report. And, while you’re at it…”
Angie listened attentively to the rest of the instructions, her face expressionless. She was certain that no one could tell by looking at her that her heart had just suffered a painful bruise. If she could hurt this badly now, then she’d been justified in calling a halt before things had progressed any further.
“And, Ms. St. Clair—”
“Yes, sir?” she asked steadily, though her throat constricted sharply at his return to icy formality. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to relish being called “Angelique” by him until he’d stopped.
“Don’t dawdle. These decisions have to be made quickly.”
“Yes, sir.” She turned abruptly and left his office, her eyes burning with tears she’d love to shed if only there was someplace private to do so.
Left alone, Rhys stood in one spot for a long, brooding moment before he turned and slammed his fist against the closest wall.
And then he sat down at his desk, and very deliberately picked up the telephone to call an investigator he’d had cause to employ a time or two in the past few years. He was tired of battling an unknown enemy. He intended to find out exactly what he was up against with Angelique St. Clair.