Enemy's Secret

"You know," he says, eyeing me thoughtfully as the credits role. "You could be a Bond girl."

"You mean I could kick your ass?" I joke.

"That too," he says. "But mostly that you're classy, pretty, a damn terrific partner."

"What if I don't want to be the partner?" I joke, "What if I want to be the leading lady?"

"Then Superwoman or Catwoman might be more for you," he jokes back. "And in that case, I'll be Superman or Batman."

God, that smile of his is addictive. Has he always had the slightest of dimples?

"Oh yeah?" I say.

"Oh yeah," he says.

Our lips entwine and say the rest. His hands cup my face as his lips and tongue sweep with mine - I've missed you, I've needed this, I've been waiting all night for this.

He pulls away, an odd twist to his lips. "Only you, I swear."

"Only me what?"

He gestures to what I'm wearing. "Could make sweat pants as tempting as lingerie."

"Sorry?" I ask with a devilish smirk.

Our lips meet again. His hands thread through my hair and pull, ever so slightly. Mine do the same. He tastes like the extra butter Orville Redenbacher popcorn we made, and the banana-strawberry smoothie we shared afterwards. He's touching me, stroking me gingerly, as though afraid of what would happen if he dared caress me how he wanted to.

He pulls away, gets up.

"I want to stay, Kyra... but you said no sleepovers?" His questioning look is strained; clearly, it's taking all the self-control he has not to pounce back on me and pick up where we left off.

"Yes, it's probably..." I take a breath. Concentrate, Ky. "Probably for the best."

He nods. Looks away. "I should go."

He makes for the door.

"That's it?" I ask after him. "You're just going to storm out of here?"

There it is again, him going cold with me for seemingly no reason.

He rounds on me with a scowl. "What do you want from me, Kyra? To respect your wishes or to do what I want? Because I can't do both. I'm trying to do the right thing here."

I know I'm being unfair, unreasonable. But I can't stop myself. I want him to stay. I want him to leave. "By leaving without so much as a goodbye?"

"No." Still he won't look at me. "By leaving before I take you how I want to."

His words spark in the air.

"OK," I say.

"OK," he says.

"So, no goodbye kiss then?" I can't resist asking.

He pauses. "Damn. You're really not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

Chapter 20

Landon

"That a no?" she teases.

Fuck - that's a yes.

Yes, I'll have that kiss - and you. I'll kiss your clothes off, kiss you moaning. Kiss you mine.

"That's a no," I say. "Goodnight, Kyra."

And then I leave. Because anything else would end up with me in her bed. Of course, that's what I want. But that's not the only thing I want.

I want to do the right thing this time.

**

Back at home, I can't get her out of my head. I can hardly sleep, hardly eat. Even the next day, trying to get some work done at the office does little good. I have to turn off my phone so I won't call her. Block the internet so I won't look up random useless webpages of her.

Too bad I can't block her from my brain - her hurt face at the end last night, how good she felt in my arms before that.

When Greyson suggests we go for lunch, I jump at the opportunity.

"You seem... distracted," he says after we've arrived at Beckta, ordered and eaten and drunk a bit in its airy window-filled room. "Happy but distracted."

"Lot going on," I say simply.

"It's OK if it's her," he says. "She give you an answer for Disney World?"

"She's coming," I say.

"Nolan won't be happy," Greyson says, a wry twist to his mouth and amusement in his blue eyes. He has a new light beard that matches his tousled hair - Harley's request, apparently. "Then again, he already planned to sit this one out as, and I quote, 'an act of protest'."

I roll my eyes. "Emerson?"

"Doesn't want to get in the middle of this," Greyson returns. "Plus, he figures - and rightly - that he'd be the fifth wheel. The only one without a date. The girl he's seeing is just casual, so he doesn't want to go there with her."

"Guess that's fair."

"What about work?" Greyson asks. "How's the whole President thing going?"

"About the same," I admit. "Feeling less like I'm out of my depth every day."

Greyson chuckles. "That's the spirit. Remember, if you need any advice, I'm here."

"I may have one question." I frown. I didn't plan on saying anything, but it just slipped out, so might as well. "When the whole thing with Harley was going down, how did you..."

"Focus on work?" Greyson laughs. "Easy: I didn't. Probably wasn't the greatest President for those first few heated weeks between us, but what can you do? That's love for you."