Author's note: Yes, these chapters are all quite short, but that's the way I roll. Thanks for tuning in!
Chapter six:
Nicky pulled her mind out of the past and checked her watch. He was definitely yanking her chain. Of course, the knowledge that she'd see him again kept sending her memories in hot flashes. She bit her lip, refusing to think about how good it had felt as he'd traced her body with surprising gentleness. Or about the darkly possessive look in his eyes as he'd watched her shatter apart.
No, she needed to concentrate on simply handing him the specs and portraying herself as mature, distant. She wanted to prove—she refused to listen to the voice that asked if it was for herself or for him—that she was fine, better than fine, and he wasn't worth her time. She shivered as another memory surged. Right.
Sighing again, she strolled over to the corner, wondering when he'd tire of keeping her waiting. She turned around and froze. He had appeared in front of her, hands in his pockets, looking casual and annoyed and utterly desirable. Damn the man. Mildly proud of herself for not jumping or screaming, she wordlessly held out the paper, knowing that if she spoke, her composure would shatter completely. He grabbed it almost lazily, shot her a last laden look, and turned on his heel, striding away quickly.
She stood there, simply breathing for a moment or two. While pleased that she hadn't done something gauche, like stumbling after him with his name on her lips, she was nonetheless exasperated with her inept performance. She was supposed to come across as worldly and aloof, not surprised and witless.
Stifling a sigh, she mused that this was predictable; standing alone in the cold, watching men walk out of her life with everything to express, but no words to say.
He had looked worn. His posture and clothes screamed that he'd had a long day, from the slump of his shoulders to the loosened tie. But he hadn't looked away from her; instead, he'd nearly devoured her with his gaze. To be sure, he had conveyed an air of vexation, and had been so abrupt she wondered if the encounter had happened at all, but he'd still stared at her for those few precious seconds.
Growling under her breath, she walked quickly to her car, pleased that the click of her heels sounded even louder in her irritation. How pathetic could she get? She was obsessing over the way a government-employed contract killer looked at her. As she started the engine, she took a deep breath, and tried to push all thoughts of him out of her mind.
Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that this had been the last time she'd ever see him.