He snorted in derision. Still, he couldn’t pull his gaze off her face. Or her legs. Or her anything, really. A man could make a meal out of looking at her. He couldn’t deny his appreciation at being granted access to look his fill. She glanced up and met his stare in the mirror. He went rigid in awareness and was suddenly glad Junior had stopped poking around his privates.

“You are bound to be disappointed,” he told her point-blank. His gaze sunk over her lithe body. “I’m not the perfect one in this scenario.”

Her nostrils flared slightly as their gazes clung. “It’s a relative term,” she replied softly. “I meant to perfect what you already are.”

“You make me sound like I’m a doll you’re trying to make pretty for tea. It’ll never work.”

Her chin tilted up in a subtle dare. “We’ll see.”

Her heart leapt an hour later when he caught her elbow on the way out of the store. She honestly couldn’t say if it did so in panic or in acute anticipation.

“Where are you running off to so fast?” Kam asked when Lin glanced over her shoulder as she finished buttoning her coat.

“I have a thing called a job.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I think we established that the other night.”

He grabbed her elbow again, when she turned irritably and started out the door.

“Why are you so prickly about my job?” she hissed over her shoulder. Immediately, she felt guilty. She was the one who was so prickly about her job today . . . about what Ian had told her about relocating to London . . . about Kam’s insinuations about her doing anything for her work . . . about everything.

“Because I don’t like being one of your job duties,” he replied in a hushed tone, glancing around the luxurious store. A man holding up two ties looked their way, obviously hearing their tense hisses. Kam nodded to the sunny street and sidewalk and followed Lin out the revolving door.

“I told you. Monday night was not a job duty. Not the end of it, anyway,” she said succinctly when they faced off on the sidewalk. “Monday night was a mistake. And everything we do together from here on out? Definitely work, and tedious work at that,” she added with a hard glare. She started to walk away.

He cursed in French under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he called out baldly.

She halted abruptly and glanced back at him, her mouth falling open in surprise.

“I’m sorry for suggesting that you were acting on Ian’s orders to have sex with me to soften me up,” he said in a muted tone, glancing from side to side to make sure no one was in hearing distance. “I wasn’t thinking straight at the time.”

“I’ll say you weren’t. You were acting like a bully.”

His eyes flared with anger, but then he briefly closed them and inhaled.

“You’re right. I deserve that,” he said stiffly.

Her gaze narrowed as she stepped toward him. “It would have been one thing if you were just being an oaf. But you were being intentionally rude. You were trying to be hurtful. Why?”

He blinked, grinding his jaw, looking like he was “chewing metal” as Richard had put it. “When I saw you getting dressed that night when I came out of the bathroom, I realized you were done with me,” he suddenly bit out.

Her expression went flat. A tingling sensation swept along her limbs. A car horn beeped loudly as traffic passed, but it barely penetrated Lin’s awareness.

“It suddenly hit me how truly unlikely it would be that a woman like you would have initiated something with me,” Kam said.

“So you accused me of going to bed with you on Ian’s orders?” she clarified quietly.

He shrugged and glanced uncomfortably out at the street. “I knew I was wrong almost the second I walked out your door. But if I hadn’t fully guessed how wrong I was then, I would have this morning.”

Lin took another step closer. For the first time since they’d slept together she looked straight into his eyes. He noticed and glanced down at her. She thought she really did see regret mixing with irritation in the light-infused, silvery depths. She got the distinct impression the frustration she witnessed was with himself. “What do you mean?” she asked. “What happened this morning?”

“Ian seemed genuinely put off by your . . . presentation in his office earlier. There’s no way in hell he could have asked you to tango with me purposefully,” Kam scoffed. “If he had, he wouldn’t have seemed so stunned by the way you acted. He seemed completely out of the loop for once in his life.”

“Tango with you?” she clarified, amused despite her determination to keep him at arm’s length.

“Face it. I set you off balance,” he said, leaning down slightly, a small smile tilting his lips.

She blinked, unsteadied yet again. “Your cockiness is epic,” she said in mixed amazement and irritation, forgetting momentarily that he’d just admitted point-blank a weakness to her. He’d been as vulnerable as she had been after they’d had sex.

“Only if it works,” she thought she heard him mutter under his breath in a thick accent. “Will you have lunch with me?” he asked, his gaze sinking slowly to her mouth in a familiar way that she recognized from the other night. Heat rushed through her, testing her straining defenses.

“I told myself I was going to steer clear of you, Kam.”

“Why?” he asked, taking a step closer, so that the placket of his open shirt brushed against her coat. She found herself staring up into those magnetic eyes. She was nearly as close as she had been Monday night when they lay side by side, both of them turned inside out by thunderous climaxes. “I apologized, didn’t I?” he reminded her quietly. “I know when I make a mistake. Or are you one to hold a grudge?”

“No, it’s not that. I appreciate your apology,” she admitted. “It’s just . . . you’re trouble.”

“As a rule?” he murmured. “Or for you in particular?”

She hesitated. “Both, I think.”

“Best news I’ve had all day.”

Something hitched in her chest when she saw the smile in his eyes.

“At least have lunch with me. It’s boring in that hotel room all alone.”

“You said you wanted to be alone. You’ve lived in isolation for almost all of your adult life,” she reminded him.

“But always with something to do. I don’t like being bored.”

“There’s a fantastic workout facility at the Trump Tower hotel.”

“I already used it today.”

“You could take a tour of the city. Or I could plan a tour for you at a Noble Enterprises manufacturing plant.”

“Ian is going to take me out to a plant next week to show me around. We planned it today during the tour downtown. But if you know of any other technology or telecommunication sector companies I might visit while I’m here, I’d be interested,” Kam said, surprising her. He leaned in and said with mock confidentiality, “And you don’t even have to hold my hand during the tours if you don’t want to.”

“Kam, I’m not trying to patronize you. I’m trying to help.”

“I know that, and you will,” he said so earnestly he took her off guard. “But what I want to do right now is take you to lunch. Please?” he prodded, probably sensing her crumbling resistance.

She hesitated.

“I don’t want Ian to know. Or Francesca. Or anyone,” she stated finally.

“About today?”

“I haven’t done anything regrettable today with you, except for lose my temper in Ian’s office.” Not yet, you haven’t, a knowing voice in her head sneered. She suppressed it with effort. “I meant I don’t want you making Monday night public.”

“Because Ian is your boss?”

“Because I don’t want him to know,” she repeated.

He shrugged in that insouciant way of his. “Fine. It makes no difference to me. Ian isn’t my concern. Not at the moment, he isn’t.”

She hesitated but then noticed his small smile. A thrill prickled through her. That grin was piratical, yes, and daring, but there it was . . . that hint of shyness. She shouldn’t, but that smile told her she would.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Sometimes the risk is the only thing that makes something worthwhile.”

Before she could respond, he’d taken her hand in his and was leading her to the curb to hail a cab.

“I read about it in a travel magazine while I was at school in London and always wanted to come,” Kam said by way of explanation when they pulled up to a restaurant and Lin stared out the window in amazement. She glanced around curiously when Kam held the cab door open for her and helped her alight onto the sidewalk. They were in the midst of an established North Side neighborhood. Kids played in the schoolyard across the way. Neat brick row houses lined the street for blocks.

“Lou’s Ribs and Pizza,” she read the sign in the window. The building looked like it’d gone through its share of years and renovations. It was a hodgepodge of materials from different eras.

“You’ve never been here?” Kam said as he walked ahead of her and opened the door.

“No,” Lin admitted. She followed him into a surprisingly crowded bar and eating area. A jukebox played a muted pop classic, and people chatted at booths and tables. Everyone’s conversation automatically went up in volume when someone turned on a blender behind the bar, as if the crowd was accustomed to the sound. “It’s doing a good business for weekday lunch. How in the world did you know about a neighborhood place like this?”

“I told you, I read about it when I was in college. It’s known for ribs and deep-dish pizza and incredible milk shakes. It’s been around forever. Frank Sinatra used to come here with his buddies. It’s crowded today because there’s a Cubs game at three. You grew up in Chicago and never heard of Lou’s?”

She shrugged apologetically. “I guess it took a Frenchman to introduce me to something in my own hometown. Besides, my grandmother was a vegetarian. She was very selective about where we ate.”

“You’re more used to places like Savaur or one of Lucien’s restaurants, but it wouldn’t hurt you to step out a little.” A flicker of irritation went through her at his smug certainty, but she quashed it as she glanced around at the homey restaurant. Maybe he was right. Maybe she should expand the boundaries of her world a little.

A stocky woman wearing an apron over stretchy polyester pants approached them. “We’re full at the moment. Give me fifteen minutes?”

“What about those two?” Kam asked, pointing at two empty stools at the bar. The woman looked doubtfully at Lin’s high heels and lightweight tailored coat, then more appreciatively at Kam. Again, Lin had chosen Kam’s clothing: a pair of jeans, a white shirt that set off swarthy skin, and a rugged gray overshirt that doubled as a jacket for the pleasantly cool fall weather. He fit in here. The waitress’s glance told her clearly she did not.

“They’re yours if you want them,” the woman conceded with a shrug.

Lin smiled at Kam and nodded. He took her coat and hung it on a coat rack at the front of the bar.

“Belly up to the bar yet again,” he said quietly when he returned and sat next to her, leaning his elbows on the scarred, yet gleaming walnut bar.

Lin glanced away, unsure what to say to that. She was strangely happy to be there with Kam in the bustling restaurant, but she was torn by that happiness. He’d been very rude to her Monday night, but she’d believed his apology. She’d actually been touched by his admission of vulnerability. That wasn’t what was bothering her.

“You mentioned earlier that Ian was upset by what happened in his office this morning?” she asked with forced casualness.

“Not upset. No,” Kam said, his gaze running over her face. She schooled her features into a neutral expression. “He was more surprised. I’ve only seen Ian riled a few times. Even when he got shot, Ian was calm,” Kam mused, referring to a horrifying event that had occurred earlier this year when Ian’s cousin Gerard Sinoit betrayed Ian and shot him in the shoulder. Kam had saved Ian and Francesca on that occasion. “He was just put-off,” Kam explained presently. “I got the impression he’s not used to seeing you rattled.”

“I wasn’t rattled. I was . . .”

“Pissed off and good,” he finished for her.

“Thank you,” Lin said to the bartender when he set down two ice waters and a menu before them. “What did Ian say, exactly?”

Kam didn’t reply immediately, just took a sip of ice water and idly watched the bartender making a milk shake behind the bar. The machine made a discordant clunk, clunk, clunk sound.