‘True,’ Rogan accepted. ‘But it took your mind off stolen books for a couple of minutes, didn’t it?’
Elizabeth was completely aware that Rogan was now attempting to divert her attention from where he lived and who he worked with by reverting back to the subject of the stolen books. And it wasn’t going to work. ‘Who was it you were asking Ace to make sure stayed put?’
‘You’re good, Elizabeth,’ Rogan approved huskily. ‘Very good, in fact.’ He nodded appreciatively. ‘You don’t forget much, do you?’ he explained at her questioning glance.
She shrugged. ‘I simply have a methodical mind.’
‘From teaching History, no doubt?’
‘Probably,’ she said. ‘I’ve simply never been able to cope with chaos.’
‘Like the library this morning.’
‘Like the library this morning.’ She nodded. ‘You haven’t answered my question, Rogan,’ she reminded him dryly.
‘Dogged too.’ He grimaced. ‘Have you ever watched a friend making a complete ass of themselves over someone you know is completely wrong for them?’
Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the unexpectedness of his answer. ‘I can’t say that I have, no.’
‘I have,’ Rogan said heavily. ‘And it isn’t pretty. Which is why someone is with Ricky round the clock at the moment, in an effort to keep him away from her.’
She frowned. ‘You’re trying to stop this man Ricky from making a fool of himself over a woman?’
‘Trying being the operative word,’ Rogan drawled. ‘The worst of it is, he knows she’s bad for him. She picks him up and then drops him again when a better prospect comes along, only to get Ricky back again when that relationship goes sour on her. I’ve tried reasoning with him; we all have. He just can’t seem to say no to her.’ He frowned darkly.
‘Did you ever think that maybe he loves her?’
‘He says he does.’ Rogan nodded. ‘But if that’s the case it’s a destructive kind of love.’
As Stella’s love for Elizabeth’s father had been destructive…
Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I admire what you’re trying to do, Rogan, but you do know that in the end it will make no difference? That the moment Ricky can get away from you all he’ll go back to her as soon as she snaps her fingers?’
Rogan gave her a searching glance as he sensed rather than heard the pain behind her questions. As if she spoke from personal experience…
But he could read nothing at all in the calm blue of Elizabeth’s eyes. ‘I would never let any woman treat me the way Vannie treats Ricky,’ he vowed.
Elizabeth gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘I doubt that in your case any woman would ever dare!’
Rogan remained unsmiling, aware that he had told this woman much more than he had initially intended. Because he hadn’t liked it earlier when she had suggested he might be a mercenary? Possibly. Whatever the reason, he had confided more about himself to Elizabeth than she had told him about herself.
He looked across at her speculatively. ‘So, how about returning the favour and answering a few questions yourself?’
Her expression instantly became wary. ‘Such as?’
‘Such as why do you spend your summer vacations working?’
Elizabeth shrugged. ‘The same reason you can’t wait to get back to America—I would be bored if I didn’t do something to occupy my time.’
‘Surely there’s plenty for you to do in London? The theatre…shopping…’
‘I can go to the theatre any time, and shopping doesn’t interest me,’ she dismissed.
Rogan gave a huff of laughter. ‘I thought all women liked shopping.’
‘Not this one,’ Elizabeth said with a rueful smile.
Rogan already knew that there was a lot about Elizabeth that wasn’t like other women. Like any other woman he had ever met, anyway…
‘Perhaps we should just get on and eat now, hmm?’ he suggested, and he picked up his knife and fork to resume eating the food that had gone slightly cold during their conversation.
Elizabeth did so happily, relieved not to have to talk about herself any more, and equally content with the fact that Rogan had finally talked to her about himself, and several of his friends, in spite of his obvious reservations.
‘I certainly feel better now that I’ve eaten,’ Elizabeth commented lightly, once the meal was over and she and Rogan had retired to the drawing room so that he could enjoy a glass of brandy and Elizabeth a soft drink.
‘You were looking a little pale earlier,’ Rogan acknowledged as he handed her the juice before sitting down beside her on the sofa and relaxing back against the cushions.
Instantly all of Elizabeth’s senses were put on full alert. As if they hadn’t been on alert already, after spending nearly two hours eating a meal with him!
She had found herself looking at his hands more often than she would have wished as she remembered the touch of them on the nakedness of her body earlier that day. When she had been fully aware of the spicy seduction of the combination of his aftershave and the male smell that was all Rogan.
What was it about this man in particular that made her so totally aware of him? From that silky dark hair down to his leather-shod feet?
If Elizabeth knew the answer to that question then she might have some way of fighting against it. As it was, she just had to accept that she was totally aware of him. Achingly so.
Just as she was suddenly aware that she hadn’t even bothered to brush her hair before dinner. ‘I feel a mess.’ She raised a self-conscious hand to the spiky disarray of her hair.
Rogan turned his head on the cushion to look at her. ‘If you’re fishing for compliments…’
‘I’m not,’ Elizabeth assured him hastily.
‘…then you chose the wrong man,’ Rogan finished dryly.
Her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment. ‘I was stating a fact, not looking for compliments.’
Rogan gave an appreciative grin. ‘Nevertheless, Elizabeth, you look good whatever you choose to wear. Or not wear…’ he added pointedly.
‘I—’ She shook her head. ‘You’re referring to what happened this morning?’
He gave a lazy shrug. ‘I believe it’s the only time I’ve seen you naked.’
Elizabeth gave him an exasperated glare even as the colour warmed her cheeks. ‘And I believe I said I would prefer it if we never talked about this morning!’ she snapped waspishly.
Rogan’s lids narrowed. ‘Just forget it ever happened, you mean?’
‘Yes!’ Her agitation was increasing by the second.
He gave a slow smile. ‘What if I can’t forget it, Elizabeth?’
‘Try!’
He chuckled softly, enjoying her obvious discomfort. Why shouldn’t he, when those same memories made him uncomfortable too—though in a completely different way!
Rogan really had tried forgetting Elizabeth’s nakedness this morning. The way she had caught fire in his arms as he kissed and caressed her. How much he had enjoyed watching her face as she climaxed under the ministration of his lips and tongue. He’d only had to look at her again this evening, to be alone with her, to know he hadn’t succeeded in forgetting anything about her. As the hard throb of his thighs now testified!
He shifted slightly on the sofa, so the muscled length of his thigh rested against her much softer one. ‘As I suggested this morning, there’s no reason why we can’t explore this attraction between us further, and see where it takes us…’
Elizabeth scooted to the far side of the sofa. ‘Explore it on your own and leave me out of it!’
Rogan gave a slow shake of his head and his gaze easily held hers captive. ‘I’d much rather explore it with you,’ he murmured throatily.
Elizabeth couldn’t think straight, couldn’t move when Rogan was this close to her. ‘I—We both know this morning was a mistake.’
‘Do we?’
‘Of course it was a mistake,’ she said. ‘You have a woman back in America, waiting for you to call her!’
He raised dark brows. ‘I do?’
She nodded. ‘According to your associate Grant, yes.’
Those dark eyes narrowed as he obviously recalled the telephone conversation she was referring to. ‘You really don’t forget anything, do you?’
‘Nothing of importance, no,’ she assured him firmly. ‘Besides, you and I have nothing in common.’
He relaxed slightly. ‘Admittedly I don’t read sexy vampire novels…’
‘Will you just forget about those damned vampire novels?’ She glared at him crossly.
‘Difficult,’ Rogan murmured, those dark eyes warmly seductive now. ‘Aren’t you tempted to practise some of the things you’ve read about?’
Her cheeks felt even warmer. ‘No, I am not! They’re only fantasy, Rogan,’ she added. ‘Not real life.’
‘How do you know that if you’ve never experimented? For instance, I think we might both find it highly erotic if, while I was making love to you, I were to bite you on the neck.’
‘Will you just stop this!’ she burst out agitatedly. ‘You simply aren’t my type.’