"Good." He stood, took my hand and tugged me to my feet. "Now that business is over, let's get something to eat. I'm starved. Do you like Chinese? We can call in an order and have it delivered."

"Eat?" With Royce? Here? Alone? My stomach growled at the same time an ache throbbed between my legs. Ayes from my stomach and a yes from my libido. "No." From my common sense. We could sit and chat, but a meal provided a sense of intimacy I knew I wasn't ready for. "No, thank you. I don't think that's a good idea," I said with a bit more force than necessary.

At least a small part of me recalled my rules.

Royce was so close I feared he might hear the wild rhythm of my heart. He grinned. "I heard your stomach growl. If you were any hungrier, I'd worry you were about to gnaw off my arm."

"You're hard of hearing, remember? My stomach did not growl. Your ears must have been ringing because of your inner-ear problem. And just so you know, I had a big breakfast." As a preventive measure, I eased out of his grasp and shifted out of reach. "Really big." My stomach chose that moment to growl again. "So big I may not be able to eat ever again."

He crossed his arms over his chest, causing his shirt to tighten over his well-defined, corded muscles. Holy Lord, he had the body of a Trojan warrior. I shivered. I'd always felt small around men. Now, standing in front of Royce, that feeling jumped to the next level. I felt as if I were a tiny speck consumed by the raw power he emitted. We weren't touching, yet his broad shoulders all but surrounded me.

"Either you don't like Chinese or you're pretending not to be hungry so you won't have to eat with me." His voice dropped to that husky whisper. His eyelids lowered to half-mast. "Which is it?"

"I don't like Chinese?" I hadn't meant to phrase it as a question.

"Then we can cook something here."

I gulped back my panic. "I don't like home cooking, either. It upsets my stomach."

His brows arched. "If I asked you to have drinks with me, you'd say… "

"I don't drink. Alcohol makes me loopy."

"I was referring to water."

"I'm allergic. Besides, I have a ton of stuff to do."

"Like what?"

"Just stuff. Lots and lots of stuff."

His eyes narrowed. I watched a strange, unreadable light enter them, giving the blue a deep, greenish hue that seized attention. He surprised me by stepping toward me, leaning down and whispering in my ear, "I think you're afraid I plan to kiss you."

Royce's words rocked my already shaky composure. "Do you?" I asked on a wispy catch of breath, my gaze searching his.

He slowly smiled. "Yes. I do."

Ohmygod. Thinking that he desired me was completely different from actually hearing him admit it. Different and horrible and heady and mind-boggling and amazing. That delicious heat sprang to life again and my mind instantly recognized it as dangerous. Fight it. Fight it, damn you.

"What about your girlfriend?" I gulped.

He frowned. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Gwendolyn Summers," I reminded him.

He waved away my words. "A friend, nothing more. Now you, I'd like to be more."

My stupid, dumb-ass knees weakened. He didn't have a girlfriend…he wanted me to be more than a friend…he wanted to kiss me. All of that combined had my equally dumb-ass hormones screaming for a taste of him.

"Now," he said, his voice dropping to that husky whisper, "about that kiss."

"I've already made a list of why we shouldn't," I rushed out, then cringed, realizing I'd just admitted to pondering such an event. Conclusion: all of me is a dumb-ass.

His features lit; obviously he'd caught the implication of my words. "What's reason number one?"

"We work together."

"So do lots of couples," he said. "Two?"

"It wouldn't be wise."

"The best things in life never are. Three?"

"I'm not interested in getting involved with you or anyone else right now." Rotten, rotten lie. I wanted to get naked with him ASAP, and that was pretty involved, to my way of thinking.

"I don't believe you," he said.

Smart man. "Believe what you want. That doesn't change the facts. I don't want you. I never will."

"You're lying again," he said in a singsong voice. "I can tell."

My mouth dropped open and I gazed up at him with incredulity. "You can't tell. There's no way you can tell."

He ignored me. "Let's make a new list, hmm?" He leaned toward me and his breath caressed the sensitive hollow of my cheek.

My knees weakened again. I would have stepped away from him, but I would have fallen. "About what?"

"Exactly why we should kiss. I'll help you with reason number one."

I barely had time to register the fact that Royce's mouth was descending to mine before he was there, kissing me. Slowly at first, simply exploring and testing. His tongue brushing mine, rolling over it, pushing against it. He tasted so freaking good, like heat and man and something all his own.

Of their own will, my arms skidded up his incredibly strong, corded-with-muscles chest and anchored around his neck. My fingers inched into his silky hair. The world around me faded.

I knew only the heady throb working through my body, pooling between my legs. Had the good Lord suddenly summoned me to heaven? I wondered, dazed. How else would I have reached the corridors of paradise so quickly?

"Your lips are softer than I imagined," he said, low and husky.

"You imagined them?" I couldn't help but ask.

"A thousand times these past two weeks. A thousand more if you count the last-" He stopped.

"The last what?" Snared by his sensual appeal as I was, I nuzzled his nose with mine, breathing in his scent, absorbing his heat. I couldn't force myself to move away.

"Nothing." His tongue swept inside my mouth as his arms caressed their way down my waist, locking me in place, arching my hips forward. When I liquefied against him, his grip tightened, held me up and let me sink even deeper into his embrace.

"Oh, my God," I said as his erection rubbed against me.

"No. Royce."

The kiss gained speed, going from sultry to wild in mere seconds. I moaned. My nipples-my ever traitorous nipples- hardened and I meshed them into his chest. The strength and warmth of Royce radiated from his clothing and nearly singed every inch of my body.

It had been so long since I'd been kissed. So damn long. But never like this. Never with this intense yearning for more. This need. The past six months had been difficult, and at times, lonely, but I had coped, had thought I'd properly insulated myself against man's dangerous allure.

Now I wondered why I'd so stubbornly fought my hormones.

Royce's mouth continued to take possession of mine. One of his hands tangled in my hair, the other gripped my butt and pulled me deep, deep into the hard length of his erection. My excitement expanded, nearing the point of eruption, and my breathing became shallow, erratic.

"Oh, my Royce," I breathed with a smile.

He chuckled against my mouth. The slight pause in our kiss nearly caused me to scream in frustration. No more teasing, no more joking. I ground myself against him, worked his tongue with mine.

He licked and nipped, and his beard stubble tickled me, sending delicious sensations down my spine. "Next time I promise to shave," he said, his breath fanning my skin.

I didn't know why he thought he needed to shave, but Lord, I hoped he didn't.

He groaned low in his throat. "I meant to go slow with you. Damn it, I'm going to go slow if it kills me." He sucked in an uneven breath before his lips found mine again, slow and gentle this time. Reverent. Worshipping.

This was a kiss of promise, the kind women dreamed about, but rarely experienced. I'd never experienced it, that was for sure, and it scared me. He suddenly tasted like turkey and cheese on hated rye.