What was the matter with her?
Hayden Brigham was positively lethal and according to Mattie any woman worth her salt should steer clear of the man, or at least be able to steel herself against his natural charms.
She’d been confident she’d fall easily into that category. Now she feared for her own sanity. Less than three minutes in this man’s company and her body was already feeling out of her control, and alien. What would three months of working with him be like?
‘Something crazy?’ he echoed, and for a moment she couldn’t be sure if it was a question or an invitation.
Bridget stuffed down the sudden thrill that rose within her and told herself it was entirely unwelcome.
She didn’t believe in that stuff. Love, lust, sex, whatever one wanted to call it. She’d seen firsthand how destructive that could be. How her father had used her mother’s love for him, and her gullibility, to defend him. To lie for him. All because she had refused to believe what was right in front of her eyes.
Such was the power he’d had over her mother that for years she’d made Bridget—too young to know any better—lie for him, too. And as Bridget had grown up and had seen for herself what kind of a smooth-talking con artist her father was, she had assured herself that she simply couldn’t see how anyone could be that naive.
Right now, however, she was terribly afraid she could begin to understand all too easily. Not that she was saying Hayden Brigham was anything like her father, of course...just that it was suddenly all too easy to see how one could succumb to someone with boundless charisma and incredible looks.
‘Never mind,’ she managed to choke out quietly, before raising her voice. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Judging by my sister’s comments, I’m not altogether convinced that’s a good thing.’ His lips twitched in amusement and Bridget found herself helplessly bewitched. ‘Let me assure you that whilst whatever I do in my downtime is my business, I am strictly professional when it comes to operations or exercises.’
‘Right,’ Bridget muttered.
And what did it say about her that a hint of disappointment rippled through her at Hayden’s reassurance? Or that his gaze slid lazily over her as though he could read her reaction in every line of her body.
‘Relax, no need to be nervous.’
‘I’m not,’ she lied, silently trying to bolster herself.
‘Is that so? Your shaking hands say otherwise but, trust me, I won’t bite.’
‘Not unless I want you to—isn’t that how the saying goes?’ The quip was out before she even realised what she was saying.
Something pulled sharply in his gaze, but Bridget couldn’t even begin to read it. She was too horrified at herself.
‘I’m sorry... I don’t...’
‘And here I was, under strict instructions from Mattie that that’s exactly the sort of remark I’m not allowed to make.’
He was laughing at her, and she couldn’t blame him. Still, she prickled uncomfortably.
‘I apologise unreservedly, Hayden,’ she began. ‘That really isn’t the—’
‘Hayd,’ he reminded her, and she faltered uncertainly.
‘Seriously, no one really calls me Hayden except my father, and the general if he isn’t happy with me. Although I admit that doesn’t happen often.’
Out of all the questions and responses swirling around her head, it was inconceivable that the one she came out with was, ‘Isn’t that a little arrogant?’
‘No. Just factual.’ He shrugged, but that smile still toyed with his lips.
A mouth that was more sinfully tempting than Bridget could ever have thought possible.
What was happening here?
‘Are you always so...factual?’
‘It depends on the subject, I suppose. But, yes, I try to be. I prefer that to people saying things they don’t really mean.’
‘I prefer that, too,’ she said, before she realised she was even speaking.