with your views.” “I’ll show you tight lipped.” He grabbed her hips and jerked her to him. The hook of his left hand dug a little into her. His mouth descended and instead of anger or the tight-lipped kiss she’d expected, he gave her tense passion. His lips coaxed. His tongue sought entry. His body melded with hers. Recalling the way he’d handled her attacker, the way he’d touched her and kissed her, awakened her and driven her to abandon beyond logic, she arched against him. She parted her lips to allow him entry. As quick as he’d started it, he pushed her away with a scowl hardening his face. “You surrender too easily.” Only to you. “You need to make up your mind, Jace. Either like me or hate me.” “Misty.” He reached out, aiming for her hand. “No.” She shook her head and backed away. If she didn’t put space between them she’d give in again. Hell, she’d probably offer him the quickie she’d imagined. “Until you can see the chauvinistic slant to your views, until you can change your view of me, I don’t want to see you.” A man she barely knew shouldn’t have the power to make her want with such desperation. She should be able to resist him just as she could every other man. Sure, she went on dates and enjoyed sex, but never until she felt she knew a man. And never with someone she wasn’t sure she really liked. She wasn’t sure she remotely liked Jace. “Misty.” He moved toward her with his hand outstretched. “I mean it, Jace.” She went to the door and opened it. “I’m more than the clothes I wear. As long as you view me with derision you can stay away. I have weddings to plan.” He stood motionless for so long she was sure he had something more to say. Finally, he blew out a frustrated breath and walked away. “You were harsh with him.” Leigh spoke from the left after Jace let himself out of the office. The woman who’d become a pretty good friend was, as always, the definition of conservative. Her dark hair was pulled into its habitual bun without a wisp uncontrolled. Her flat shoes, wide-legged slacks and flowy blouse barely suggested at a figure. She was the kind of woman Jace would like, and the thought raised Misty’s hackles. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop.” “You didn’t exactly keep your voice low.” “What?” Misty tore her gaze from Jace’s retreating back and faced Leigh. “Was I yelling?” “Not quite yelling, but definitely not speaking normally.” “Damn it.” “He rouses your passion.” Leigh grinned with a wicked glee she rarely showed. She loved being able to say that to women, claiming she was waiting for the day for someone to say it about her. “Challenges you.” “He has no respect for me outside the bed.” Tabatha grabbed her elbow and backed her into the office. “You’ve had sex with him? When? You only met him yesterday, didn’t you?” Damn it. If Jace hadn’t stirred her up she’d have known better than to mention sex. Now Leigh, and in short order all the other designers, would want details. Any retelling would mean reliving, which would mean not forgetting how he made her feel. Damn the stubborn man.
Chapter Seven “I can’t believe her.” Sam wiped the glasses, inspecting them for spots and lipstick smudges before shelving them. When the place filled up more she’d only have time for a cursory swipe. “Why can’t you?” “You saw her in here the other night.” Jace frowned at the memory of Misty sitting where he sat now. “Flirting with that armpit of a man.” “Watching you watch her in the mirror.” “Shifting so her skirt rose higher and higher.” “Making you antsier and antsier.” “Laughing as if the day had been like any other.” “Allowing herself to leave her worries behind for a while.” “Opening herself for bigger ones.” “From you?” “Damn it, Sam.” Jace pounded his fist on the bar. “Whose side are you on?” “No