He rumbled low in his throat, primal, eager man. He looked at the bra. Looked at me. Looked at the bra. All the while, the blaze grew hotter and hotter in his eyes. "Green. Yes, you want me." He shoved the satin aside, exposing the peaks of my nipples. His breath caught. "You have the most perfect nipples I've ever seen. They're pink and ripe as little berries."

I licked my lips. "Stop saying things like that."

"Why? Because they excite you?" With a sultry chuckle, he kissed me, cupped one of my breasts, kneaded it, rolled the nipple between his fingers. At the first expert touch of his palm, I groaned. I couldn't believe we were doing this in his office, where anyone outside the door could hear us.

His lips tore from mine, and he arched me backward, letting his hot tongue tantalize my nipple. One hand moved over me, skimming the swell of my hips. "Don't think of anything except how I make you feel," he murmured against my heated flesh.

I wasn't.

He sucked my nipple into his mouth. My body jerked and I almost came right then. My hands slid through his hair, clasping him to me in a tight, you're-not-going-anywhere grip.

"Royce, I-"

He sucked harder.

I gasped, arching my back farther, wanting more, needing more-until the phone buzzed, allowing a single, solitary thought to slip unbidden into my mind: This is more than a kiss, Naomi. You're about to step straight into a sexual relationship. With a client.

"Mr. Powell," Elvira said.

My blood went from molten to ice cold in mere seconds. How could I have let this happen? I'd thought to allow myself one last kiss, yet this was so much more. I'd known better, known this would be the result, but I hadn't let common sense prevail.

I wrenched away, disengaging from him completely, panting. "I, um, have to stop now."

The phone buzzed. "Mr. Powell?"

The fine lines around Royce's eyes and mouth were already taut, but they tightened further. I could tell he wanted to grab me, to tumble me back into his embrace. But he must have read my determination to resist him in the hard stance of my body.

"I'll let you go for now, but we're not finished, Naomi." Aroused fire beamed from his eyes as he took a menacing step toward me. Another. "In fact," he purred dangerously, "we've only just begun."

With shaky limbs, I whirled away from Royce and righted my clothing. I picked up my jacket from the floor and slipped my arms through the openings. "Lucky us, we found the beginning and the end in the same day. I just… l can't be with you," I said. It was a plea for him to understand.

"Can't." His expression lost some of its heat. In fact, he looked positively arctic. "Or won't?"

The phone buzzed yet again. "Mr. Powell?"

He stormed back to his desk, slammed a finger into a button and barked, "I said I need a goddamn minute. I'll let you know when to send him in."

"Well?" he said to me.

He wanted to hear that my lips ached for the return of his, that I felt lost and unsure without his arms around me. It was true, but I couldn't say it aloud. If he knew how close I was to giving in, he'd pounce and I wouldn't be able to deny him. And I could wave my rules goodbye.

I didn't turn to face him when I said, "Won't."

A heavy pause.

"I don't understand you," he said, exasperated and angry. "I don't understand how you can be so hot for me, then turn so cold."

This time, I did face him. I whirled, glaring, pointing at his chest. "That's right. You don't understand me because you don't know me. You don't know my life. You don't know my past. I won't get involved with you, Royce."

His features softened just as the sunlight streaming in from the window hit him at the perfect angle, casting him in a glowing halo. "I know you're strong and honest and you fight for what you want. Well, fight for me."

I almost-almost, damn it-capitulated then and there. I swear, I was changing my mind lately more than I changed my underwear. Those words of his…that quiet beseeching…I don't think I'd ever heard anything quite so beautiful. He was the first person ever to call me strong. And I responded to that on a primal level.

"I can't," I whispered, and saying it was even harder than pulling away from him had been.

"Why not?" He threw his hands in the air. "Help me understand, so that I can help you accept what's between us."

How easy he made it sound. How tempting. Work through your concerns and we can be together. I closed my eyes, as one horrible fear after another flitted through me. The way men cheated and lied and lost interest in their woman. The late-night phone calls, the "business trips."

"Tell me," he said softly.

If I told him about Richard the Bastard's infidelity, I'd also have to admit to my own stupidity. My own weakness. How many times had I taken Richard back? How many times had I allowed him to treat me like garbage? Royce had just admitted he thought of me as strong and capable, a fighter. I absolutely did not want him to change his view. Did not want him to see me as a doormat.

"There's nothing to tell," I said, staring down at my intertwined hands. "I'm just not interested."

"Is this a game?" He scowled over at me. "Are you playing hard to get, trying to tie me in knots so you're all I can think about? If so, it's worked. I admit it, you're always on my mind. I dream about you, crave you constantly."

I wanted to cover my ears. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. "Don't tell me that." I shook my head, strands of hair falling at my temples. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Why not? It's true."

"I'm unavailable to you," I said, desperate to believe anything but what he was saying. Capitulation was not an option for me. Not with this man, and not about the future. Because he affected me more than even Richard had, that made him far more dangerous. "You're simply responding to the challenge. That's all."

"You're wrong. I want to marry you. And that has nothing to do with you being a challenge."

My stomach dropped. I think my vision went black for a moment. My throat closed up and all I could say was, "You want to marry me?" The words emerged as nothing more than a croak.

"Yes."

"You've only known me a few weeks, and you want to marry me?" Louder now. "You've never been on a date with me, and you want to marry me?" Louder still.

"Yes." He said it so simply, so easily. "I've dreamed about you for six months, Naomi. After Daisy Phillips' reception, I called you to ask you out. You never returned my calls. So I admit, in a moment of desperation I had my mother ask you to plan her party. It was the only way I could think of to get you in my life."

Dear God. I covered my face with my hands, trying to drag air into my too-tight lungs. A loud roaring filled my ears; my stomach cramped. What kind of sick, alternate world had I slipped into?

Things began to click into place. That day in his office, when he'd spoken on the phone about "the one," who he would win, he'd been talking about me, I realized. A merger of sorts, he'd said, meaning marriage.

"Do-do you love me?" I asked, unable to face him.

Another pause, this one heavier, deeper. Then, "Yes. I do."

"This is crazy, Royce. You have to see how crazy this is."

He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin to the side, regarding me, studying me, gauging exactly what he would reveal. "This company thrived under my father's care, yes, but I doubled its profits by acting on my instincts. They've never steered me wrong, and right now I know, know, you're the woman for me."

"You're just desperate to get married. Any woman will do."

"Is that so?" He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Then why the hell haven't I chosen one of the applicants?"

I placed a trembling hand over my mouth and simply blinked at him. Yes, I'd known he desired me-the way he kissed me was proof of that. Hell, the erection he still sported was proof of that. I'd even suspected, yesterday in my apartment, that he wanted a commitment from me. Hearing it, though, having it confirmed… This was ludicrous. Love?