“I could ask you the same thing.”
Michael reared back, shock clear on his face.“What do you mean?”
“You’re easygoing attitude and nothing fazes you is your armor just as much as my bitchiness is.”Did he not think she’d noticed he did the same thing she did.Took a hider to know one.
“No it’s not,” he denied and avoided her gaze.
“You can honestly say you are always so upbeat and nothing bothers you?”Andrea didn’t believe that for a second.No one was that happy all the time.
“I’ve always been a pretty upbeat guy, yes.”
“I get that, but there’s upbeat, and then there’s playing happy to hide your pain behind humor.”
Michael opened his mouth no doubt to deny it again, but nothing came out.She could see the war behind his eyes.What to say and not to.Finally, he shrugged his shoulders.“There’s no sense crying over spilled milk.”
“When you can just clean it up and move on.”Yeah, they were more alike than she cared to admit.Both hiding who they were.
“Exactly.So it’s easier to accept things as they are and move on.”
“So you didn’t get angry about your scars?”
“Angry?No.Upset that my beautiful face was marred, yes, but women seemed to take pity on me, so I got over it.”
Andrea shook her head.“Are you ever serious?”
“From time to time, but I’d rather have fun, like now.”
“This is fun to you?”Making pizza from scratch and making a mess?There wasn’t any space left on the counter from all the toppings, and the counter and parts of the floor were covered in flour.
Micheal gave her a side glance.“Yes, aren’t you having fun?”
“No,” she replied, but he could no doubt see the answer in her eyes.She was, Andrea just didn’t want to admit it.
“Liar.”He called her out on her bluff.
Andrea looked affronted.“Well, I was until you started asking questions.”She didn’t like talking about herself ever.“Besides, how would you know if I was lying or not?”
“Your body is all the answer I need.”
“Oh really?”Andrea propped her hands on her hips, looking at him in disbelief.
“Uh huh, you know what else it says?”
“What?”This ought to be good.
Michael put their pizzas in the oven and looked down at her, his gaze fixated on her mouth.“You want me to kiss you.”
She did.“No, I don’t.”She really did.She’d been denied earlier at the rain forest.She’d been denied on their date she’d called a dinner.The man had the most kissable lips.It didn’t matter that he had probably used them on half of the female population of the world.She wanted to know what they felt like.It had been ages since she had been intimate with a man.
Urges she’d long thought dead and gone were surfacing.Her gaze fell to his lips.They were right in front of her.All she had to do was raise up on her tiptoes, and she could kiss him and appease her curiosity.No, she had to resist.To keep her distance.She didn’t want to feel anything but contempt toward Michael.
“You know, I have ways to make you tell me the truth.”
“Torture?”That didn’t sound pleasant.What would beating her prove?
“Hmmm,” he purred.“Chains and hot wax.”
“Not my thing.”But it sounded hot.Well, the chains part not the hot wax.She had never been much of an adventurous lover.She was a Plain Jane missionary girl.No frills or excitement.But to be restrained and at this man’s mercy…that was an intriguing and terrifying thought.She recalled being blindfolded and at his mercy.That hadn’t been so bad.
