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The denial flies out of my mouth so quickly it's practically one word.

Mitchell says nothing. I whip my head toward him.

“Tell her.”

His icy blue eyes are anything but cold. And there it is again.

That look.

The one I'm beginning to recognize. The one that makes me feel like there's no one else in the room.

My pulse skips. He smiles.

“I'm going to go make my calls.”

Coward.

“Coward.”

“Reporter.”

The designer shoos him toward the door.

“Come back in one hour, Mr. Knight.”

He stops before leaving. Looks back. At me.

Just me.

And my stupid body reacts like he touched me.

Heat curls low in my stomach.

My breasts feel suddenly too confined by my bra.

And the memory of his mouth hovering near mine on the sidewalk comes rushing back with startling clarity.

One tiny movement. That's all it would've taken.

I could have kissed him.

Worse?

I wanted to.

I still do.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he says.

Then he's gone. The door closes behind him. I stare at it a second too long.

“Hmm.”

I turn. The designer is watching me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”