laughed and watched her as she put her purse down on the floor. “Oh so you do have a sense of humor hiding somewhere under that suit of armor?”
“I was actually being serious but I think I’ll stick with Langley. Mr implies you’re a gentleman,” she paused, “Suit of armor?”
He looked her over from head to toe. “You know? That outfit designed to deter me from seeing you as a woman. Buttoned up from waist to neck and pants covering any skin available.” he paused then sat forward, “I hate to be the one to break it to you Lena but it does the exact opposite. It just makes me want to know what’s under there and how I can get to it.”
Lena had made a promise to herself that there was no way she would ever sleep with Mason Langley. However, as she sat there with her legs crossed and a desk between them she felt an ache start to form deep down inside. His words, spoken in that deep honeyed tone, slid right under her skin and kept playing on repeat as she stared at him, speechless. As the silence seemed to echo through the small space she realized he was waiting for her to say something. Finally pulling herself together she swallowed trying to moisten her dry throat and instead of acknowledging his seductive comment she blurted out. “I Googled you.”
He sat back bringing his left foot up to rest his ankle on his right knee. “Did you? Well I guess you have me at a disadvantage. I don't even know your last name.”
For a moment Lena stared at him in shock then she felt her face morph to disbelief that he didn't know her last name and that she’d never told him! Here she was sitting in a tiny room, make that a tiny locked room! On a date, with a man who hadn't even asked her last name. The sooner I arrive the sooner I can leave, she repeated to herself.
“Is that really a requirement for you? Obviously it wasn't that important since you still don't know it.”
Expecting some kind of apology Lena was shocked when he shrugged, “No. I don't care either way.” Before she could come back with an equally degrading reply he went on. “So what did you learn from Google, Lena?” Sitting back in the chair again he watched her with laughter in his eyes.
“I figured out that there are at least thirty-three very unintelligent women roaming the streets of Chicago.” she finally grinned at him and he stopped rocking the chair abruptly. He sat up straight and rested his long forearms on the desk. She couldn't help but glance at them, then she looked back up to meet his steady gaze. He smiled slowly and his dimples appeared.
“I don't know what you mean by that but from the unholy grin on your face, it had to be a great insult. I'm just sorry I don't understand.”
Standing up he came around the desk and stepped in front of it then leaned back resting against it.
“Maybe you should Google it?”
Suddenly he leaned down and grabbed the sides of the chair she was sitting in bringing them almost nose to nose. “Maybe you should tell me your last name.”
Losing the grin Lena stared right back at him. “Why?”
“Don't you think I deserve to know who insults me?”
Lena held his stare and narrowed her eyes, “I've been insulting you since we met, and my last name was on the flowers you delivered and yet you still don't know. Maybe I was right all along and you really can't read?”
She felt his hands grip the chair tighter and watched his jaw clench then he stood and spun away from her running a hand through his hair.
“You’re so infuriating!” he turned back to face her and drew his hands up palms facing forward, “I surrender, you win. You're much better at this than I am.”
“Better at what?” she asked feeling her chest tighten. She’d been trying to get away from him all night and now that she knew that mission was accomplished she didn't feel as victorious as she thought she would.
“This ice you have.” pausing he shook his head, “This mean you spit out without even blinking.
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child