Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [42]
Riley had been in the service? Although given his commanding air, that wasn't all that surprising. "Which branch of the military?"
"Marines."
"You seem to be more comfortable giving orders than taking them."
"One reason I'm an ex-marine," he said with a brief smile.
She frowned as her gaze drifted to the screen and she realized that Riley wasn't looking at the personnel files anymore. "What are you doing?"
"Just checking a few things out."
"Our inventory?"
"Wouldn't someone have recorded the dragon as part of the inventory on the day we brought it in? Your father gave us a receipt for it. But I don't see it."
"It would have been temporary, most likely under possible acquisitions or something like that." She paused, knowing she should probably stop him, but reviewing their inventory list was hardly worth shouting about, and at the moment she was interested in learning more about him. "What was it like being a marine? Did you see any combat?"
"Some. Nothing I want to talk about," he added, flinging her a pointed look before turning back to the computer.
"What's that expression the marines always say? Semper something."
"Semper Fi. Always faithful."
"And are you?"
"To my country—absolutely."
She picked up a pen from her desk and played with it. "What about with a woman?"
"I've never been married."
"But you've been in relationships."
"What makes you so certain?"
"Because you're—you're not bad to look at."
He smiled. "You think so?"
She felt a wave of heat cross her cheeks. "I was speaking from a purely observational point of view."
"Is that what they call it these days?" He suddenly swung the chair around and stood up. He put his hands on either side of the desk, trapping her in what could have been an embrace, only he wasn't touching her, just crowding her, making her very, very aware of every inch of his long, muscular, masculine body.
"What—what are you doing?" she asked quickly, her heart speeding up at the look in his eyes.
"Getting a better look at you -- from a purely observational point of view."
She licked her lips, then wished she hadn't as his gaze settled on her mouth. "We should get back to ..." What were they supposed to be doing, anyway? She couldn't seem to remember. He was too close. He was stealing her breath, making it hard to think, to concentrate. And then he moved closer still, his mouth covering hers in a kiss that he hadn't asked for, a kiss he simply took, a kiss she couldn't help giving back. He tasted good, his mouth warm, demanding, impatient as his tongue swept inside, deepening the kiss, making her want to melt right into him. His hands were hot and firm on her waist as he pulled her against the solid wall of his chest.
She stroked his back, loving the feel of the hard muscles beneath her fingers. Their legs tangled up as they each searched for a better position. It wasn't until her back touched the top of her desk that she realized how quickly things were moving along. Was that Riley's hand on her leg, on her hip, sliding up under her shirt?
Good God! Another minute and she'd be having sex on top of her desk.
Paige hastily sat up, pushing him away with a breathless "Stop."
Riley stared at her with dark, intensely blue eyes that were filled with desire for her. She almost wished she hadn't asked him to stop. But this wasn't right. She wasn't the kind of woman to have sex with a man she didn't know. And she didn't know Riley, not enough, anyway. The fact that he was the sexiest, most attractive man she'd met in a long, long time, and that he made her want to do reckless, impulsive things wasn't a good enough reason—was it? Suddenly logic didn't seem important. Nor did common sense or rational thinking.
Riley had made her feel good, like a woman, like a sexy feminine creature. But she wasn't just a woman. She was a Hathaway. Hathaways didn't have sex on the office furniture.
Paige drew a deep breath and ran her hand over her hair, still acutely conscious that Riley hadn't taken his eyes off her. "Why did you do that?" she asked,