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"If I've learned one thing about you, Lieutenant," Michele's voice was acid, it's that you're capable of learning anything about me that you wish. You've already proven that." She gathered her things and slipped out of the booth. She doubted her ability to last one more moment in his presence without losing her cool completely.
She turned to face him and reached in her purse for some money. "Here's my half of the check--" she began, but his sudden movement interrupted her. Connor grasped her wrist and tugged with just enough strength to pull her down into the booth beside him. He leaned closer then, and Michele felt a flash of panic. He was too close, and after last night she never wanted to let him so near again. His pale green eyes were shooting sparks, and she swallowed hard in the face of his dangerous attractiveness.
"What's your hurry, Michele, hmm?" he murmured, keeping a firm grip on the wrist she was tugging to free. "Things getting a little too personal for you?"
Her chin went up at his gibing tone. "I hardly think you'll miss my company. You said yourself that I bring back unpleasant memories."
Connor considered that. "I don't believe that's exactly what I said. I said you had a lot in common with my ex-wife. But the joke's on me, Princess." He bared his teeth savagely. "Because that doesn't make me want you any less. It doesn't stop me from wanting to touch you, to feel your silky skin against my own. I doesn't keep me from wanting to feel your mouth crushed under mine."
Michele's eyes were shocked and wide, her breath coming in small gasps. "I'm leaving," she said breathlessly, and, miraculously, her wrist was released. She rose shakily and laid her money on the table before she turned to flee.
Connor rose and threw some bills on the table and followed her out the door. She slipped away from him, intent on getting into her car without further conversation. But her trembling hands refused to fit the key into the lock properly. She cursed mentally as she tried again and again before she heard the click signaling the lock's release. Her sigh of relief was short lived when she felt his hard body in back of hers.
"Michele," he whispered, drawing her back against him. His mouth went to the sensitive area beneath her ear, and she shivered as he pressed a light kiss there. Both his hands were cupping her shoulders, his fingers kneading lightly. "Don't run away from me."
"Stop it," she whispered agonizedly. "What's the point of this? You don't like me, and you certainly don't trust me. I'm not about to get involved with anyone who feels about me as you do." What was she saying? she thought, aghast. She wouldn't get involved with Connor McLain under any circumstances. Every ounce of self-preservation she had screamed at her that he could be the biggest mistake of her life. And she had made a couple of huge ones.
Connor turned her around then and moved closer until she was pinned between the car and his hard body. "Why shouldn't you be as tortured as I've been?" he demanded, his tone harsh. "Why shouldn't you relive the memory of being in my arms? I spent all last night and today wanting to touch you again. It's only fair that you be tortured by it, too."
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