Heat flared in his gaze. “Are you asking for an affair, Miss Thorncroft?”
“No.”Maybe.Her hands gathered in the folds of her skirts. She tucked her thumbs in, nail digging ever-so-slightly into her the soft flesh of her palms. “Unlessyouwanted—”
“I do not,” he said shortly.
Well, then.
That was blunt, wasn’t it?
Except it was an answer, not a reason. And surely, surely there had to be a reason. Because theydidenjoy each other’s company. And theywereboth adults. And…why not? She wasn’t married. Neither was Kincaid. He also didn’t have a mistress, at least one that she knew about. From what she’d witnessed thus far, the detective was wedded to his work. Everything else came secondary, which was to be expected, she assumed, given the long hours his line of employment required. But surely his job did not exclude him fromallpleasures.
Joanna knew it was wicked of her to want what she did.
But she also refused to believe it was wrong.
“I have a private meeting in half an hour.” Kincaid gathered her hat and gloves. A not-terribly-subtle hint that it was time for her to leave. He ushered her to the door but she balked at the threshold, refusing to be dismissed so easily as that.
“Why?” Her lashes swept across the tops of her cheeks as she glanced down, then back up, her brow creased in confusion. “Is it me? Have I done something?”
“You’re my client,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“And?” she persisted.
“And only a fool steps back into the fire after they’ve already been burned. Good day, Miss Thorncroft.” Without further explanation, he shoved her into the foyer, closed the door…and locked it.
*
“Go away,” Kincaidgrowled when he felt a nudge against his legs. “I’m not speaking to you.”
Baring his tiny, white fangs, James gave a loud hiss before he leapt onto a chair and swatted at his master’s hand.
“Bloody hell!” Kincaid swore when he felt a sharp stab of pain and saw four bright red claw marks across his knuckles. “What the devil was that for?”
The cat’s tail swished through the air.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
James hissed again.
“It’s not as if Iplannedfor this to happen.” Scowling, Kincaid began to pick up the books that were scattered across the floor. “I did the only thing I could do,” he muttered, more to himself than to the cat, never mind that there didn’t really need to be a distinction because it was acat.
From the chair came the sound of a sniff that could only be described as disdainful.
Kincaid glared at James over his shoulder. “What? You think I should have an affair with her, don’t you? An affair with an American. Bollocks on that.” He slammed two books together. “It’d be like standing naked in the middle of a thunderstorm with an iron rod while I waited for lightning to strike me down.”
But damned if the shock—and the resulting electrocution—wouldn’t be worth it.
He meant what he’d said. He hadn’t intended to kiss Joanna. In fact, it was the last thing he had wanted to do. But thenshehad kissedhim. And once he tasted her lips…once he tasted her lips, he knew he’d never find anything else on earth so sweet no matter if he scoured the four corners.
Holding her in his arms had been like holding the sun. The sheer brightness of her passion had blinded him. Her lack of inhibitions had stunned him. The mewling noise she’d made when she came against his hand had undone him.
It was a wonder he’d stopped when he did.
It was a miracle he hadn’t started where he’d left off when she suggested they have an affair.
A bloodyaffair.
The woman was out of her mind. And he was just as equally crazed, because for a fleeting moment…he’d actually considered it.
