‘I don’t think we can say we met at yoga,’ he said.
‘Why not?’ She didn’t believe for a minute that he could be interested in her, but if he thought he would be getting easy sex this weekend he had another thing coming.
His amused eyes connected with hers. ‘Because I don’t do yoga.’
Miller felt her lips pinch together as she realised he was toying with her. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
‘More than I thought I would,’ he agreed.
Miller released a frustrated breath. No one was going to believe she was serious about this guy. Her mother had always warned her not to lie, and she mostly lived by that creed. Yesterday, she’d let blind ambition get in the way of sound judgement.
Okay, maybe not blind ambition. Possibly she was a little peeved that she’d felt so professionally hamstrung in telling TJ Lyons what she thought of his lack of business ethics.
‘Maybe we just shouldn’t talk,’ she muttered, half to herself. ‘I know enough.’ And she was afraid if he said any more she’d ask him to pull over so she could get out and run away as fast as she could.
‘I don’t.’
She looked at him warily. ‘Everything you need to know is in my dossier. Presuming you read it?’
‘Oh, it was riveting. You enjoy running, Mexican cuisine, strawberry ice cream, and cross-stitching. Tell me, is that anything like cross-dressing?’
Miller willed herself not to blow up at him. ‘No.’
‘That’s a relief. You also like reading and visiting art galleries. No mention of what type of underwear you prefer, though.’
Miller channelled the monks of wherever. ‘Because it’s irrelevant.’
‘You know mine.’
‘Not by choice.’ And she was trying very hard not to think about those sexy boxers under his snug-fitting jeans.
‘So what do you prefer?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Are you a plain cotton or more of a lace girl?’
Miller stifled a cough. ‘That’s none of your business.’
‘Believe me, it is. I’m not getting caught up in a conversation with your client not knowing my G-strings from my boy-legs.’
‘Potential client. And I thought all men talked about was sport?’
‘We’ve been known to deviate on occasion.’ He threw her a mischievous grin. ‘Since you won’t tell me, I’ll have to use my imagination.’
‘Imagine away,’ she said blithely, and then wished she hadn’t when his eyes settled on her breasts.
‘Now, there’s an invitation a man doesn’t get every day.’
Miller shot him a fulminating glare, alarmed to feel her nipples tightening inside her lace bra.
Striving to steady her nerves, she made the mistake of reading out the next item he’d added to the questionnaire. ‘“Favourite sexual position.”’
‘I haven’t finished imagining your lingerie,’ he complained. ‘Though I’m heading towards sheer little lacy numbers over cotton. Am I right?’
Miller faked a yawn, wondering how on earth he had guessed her little secret and determined that he wouldn’t know that he was getting to her. ‘You’ve written down “all”.’
He threw her a wolfish grin. ‘I might have exaggerated slightly. It was getting late when I wrote that. Probably if I had to name one... Nope. I pretty much like them all equally.’
‘I wasn’t asking.’
‘Although on top is always fun,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘And there’s something wicked about taking a woman from behind.’
His voice had dropped and the throaty purr slid over Miller’s skin like a silken caress.
‘Don’t you think?’
Miller released a pent-up breath. She’d had one sexual partner so far and it hadn’t been nearly exciting enough for them to try variations on the missionary theme. She hated that now all she could visualise was her on top of the sublime male next to her and how it would feel to have him behind her. Inside her.
Her heart thudded heavily in her chest and she suddenly found her attention riveted by the way his long fingers flexed around the steering wheel. Imagining them on her body.
‘What I think is that you should concentrate on driving this beast of a car so we don’t run into one of those semis you’re so determined to fly past.’
‘Nervous, Miller?’
He said her name as if he was tasting it and Miller’s stomach clenched. Oh, this man was a master at sexual repartee, and she’d do well to remember that.