“What’s to believe? I’ve already told you to forget the money.”
“And I said I’ll accept the car, but I won’t agree to not paying back the loan,” she pointed out.
“Don’t make a song and dance about it,” he said, but there was a tiny muscle jerking at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not fooling anyone but yourself if you think I can’t see what you’re about.”
She pushed aside a sense of hurt. Once again she was being accused of something unpleasant. He thought all this was just a pretense on her part…that her objection was just lip service and she was actually reveling in him giving her a valuable car. It was obvious he expected her to take what she could get out of him.
“You’re a fine one to talk. You’re obviously doing this for your own sick reasons that have nothing to do with me but everything to do with you.”
“Is that right?” he drawled, but she saw an alert look in his eyes.
“You want to hold it over my head, don’t you? It makes you feel important to know that it will take me a lifetime to pay the loan back.”
“I don’t need you to make me feel important.”
“Not from where I’m standing.”
His mouth tightened. “I don’t play games.”
“Unlike me, you mean?”
“You said it.”
That did it. She’d had enough.
Of Flynn and his unfounded suspicions.
Of the whole darn world.
She straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Donovan, you owe me one hell of an apology,” she said, determined to stand up to him and to keep on standing up to him for as long as it took.
One of his arrogant brows lifted. “For what?”
“You’re wrong about me.”
“I don’t think so.” His eyes were so cold that not even the hot Darwin sun could defrost them. “Now, stop wasting my time.” He picked up the car keys and held them out to her. “Take it or leave it.”
She looked at the keys, then back at his derisive face. “Thanks. I’ll pass.”
“Danielle…” he growled.
All at once she knew that if she didn’t get out of there she was going to burst into tears. She twirled toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
Moisture welled in her eyes and she tried to blink it away. “That’s not your concern.”
“Danielle, stop,” he warned.
She kept on walking out the door and hurried toward the elevator.
“Danielle, I mean it,” he said, coming up behind her.
“Big deal,” she choked as she punched the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. Thankfully it was vacant and she rushed into it before she did something really stupid, like crying.
But she only managed to hold back the tears until she stepped inside, half-blindly pressing the ground floor button. Then they swelled up in her eyes so quickly she couldn’t even see what she was doing.
All at once Flynn stormed in next to her, making her jump. She turned her back and blinked rapidly, determined not to let him see how upset she was. This would just be another thing for him to accuse her of faking.
She heard the elevator door close.
A moment passed.
“Danielle, look at me,” he said softly.
“No.” She didn’t want him to see her like this. Not when she felt like a weepy female.
His hand touched her shoulder and he gently turned her around. At the oddly concerned gleam in his eyes, she moaned and did the exact opposite of what she’d told herself not to do. She burst into tears.
After a moment or two a snarling sound came from deep in his throat and he pulled her into his arms. “Shh. Don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it,” she mumbled into his shirt, hating him, wanting him. Oh, she didn’t know what she felt for him.
He gave her his handkerchief and she cried even harder, until she thought she was never going to stop. Until the tears began to dry up and she could sniff for a few more moments. And then she began to notice how wonderful Flynn smelled, the tantalizing warmth of his male body mixing with the clean scent of his shirt.
“Danielle?”
She heard the deep rumble of her name, felt the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek and couldn’t seem to pull away. She felt lethargic all of a sudden. Wonderfully lethargic. Heat was engulfing her. Male heat. And it was coming from Flynn. She had the sudden urge to take long, intimate breaths.
“Danielle?”
This time she did move back. And looked up into dark eyes that made her heart skip a beat. Up close like this, the look was much more than powerful. It was potent. And possessive. She dared not breath. Otherwise he would kiss her. Would lay his lips upon hers and ravish her mouth, and she didn’t think she would be able to resist him.
He bent his head….
The elevator jolted to a stop, making her jump back, horrified by what she’d been about to let him do to her.
He reached out to steady her as she bumped against the wall. “Careful,” he said roughly, his touch making her skin quiver, as if the thin material of her top beneath his hands didn’t exist.
She took a shaky breath. It was time to put some distance between them. “I think I need eyes in the back of my head,” she said, trying to sound glib but the huskiness in her voice gave her away.
“It would help,” he muttered, a vein throbbing at his temple, telling her he was as affected as she was. “Maybe then I wouldn’t want you.”
She gave a soft gasp. “I—”
“Don’t say a word, Danielle. Not a word or I’ll carry you back up to my office and make love to you right now.”
She’d known there was a sexual spark between them from the start, but hearing him say out loud that he still wanted her was shocking. “But…I’m pregnant.”
“I know,” he said, his mouth grim.
For a moment she stood there, stunned as the doors behind him slid open to an empty lobby. Flynn Donovan still wanted her. And dear God, she wanted him, too. But pregnant widows weren’t supposed to want a man. It just wasn’t done.
Yet how could she want a man who thought the worst of her? A man who had accused her of stealing his money? Of lying and cheating?
A moment crept by, then with a hint of regret in his eyes, he took her arm, gently pulled her past him and pushed her out into the lobby, but not before she felt his hard body brush against her own.