So far, sex had come a distant second.
Then again, she didn’t even have an item ranking third.
Morgan made herself smile easily. “Relaxing.”
“Huh. In that? You look like you’re ready to host a tea party for some stuffy churchgoers. And you’re wearing shoes. High-heel shoes.”
Confusion marred her brow. “And your point is?”
He grunted. “You hang out and kick back in a white linen suit with frickin’ heels on your feet? Do you know what that says about a person?”
She gritted her teeth and kept her smile. “That she’s well prepared for anything?”
“No. It screams you don’t know how to let go.” He paused and looked suspicious. “I bet you don’t know how to have any fun, either.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I know how to have plenty of fun! And you’re not one to talk about letting go. Something tells me from first sight you’re a bit of a control freak yourself.”
His gaze raked her over, and he gave another disgusted snort. “Your clothes don’t even have a wrinkle. Look, princess, we’re stuck with each other. You forced me to take this job by playing dirty, so don’t expect me to treat you with pristine white kid gloves. We’re looking at six months for completion. This means overtired workers, a hundred decisions every hour, and stressed-out suppliers. You say you’ve done this before, but never like this, and never with me. Be warned—I’m going hard-core. Understood?”
Oh, she wanted to curl her fingers into fists and stomp the floor and hiss. He insulted her appearance and her personal life and made snap judgments that enraged her. But she sensed he wanted her to get mad. He’d give her that little smirk and feel as if he’d won.
Hard-core.
Morgan was taken aback by the sudden vivid image of his hard naked body slamming hers against the wall, rubbing up against her, and getting her very, very dirty.
Oh, no. Not with him. Not for any reason. He’d only respect her if she exhibited a professionalism and took everything he gave while she politely asked for another. Please.
Time to reverse the direction of his little game.
Morgan closed the distance between them. Her own gaze flicked over his body in analysis and a cool dismissal that she hoped stung. “Now let me warn you about something. I’ve built fifteen houses for some of the most demanding clients you’ve ever met. They make you look like a sweet little pussycat. I’ve gone days without sleep, camped out at the site for a week to catch the thief stealing our precious koa wood, won a catfight with one of our construction workers’ wives who insisted we had had an affair, and dealt with more sexual harassment and discrimination than you can imagine. So, Charming, don’t talk to me about being hard-core.” She pursed her lips and dropped her final words. “I invented hard-core.”
Ah, shit.
He wanted to kiss her.
When he first walked in, he’d been struck by the clean elegance of the hotel suite, with her as reigning queen. The penthouse was pure luxury, and damned if the carpet and furnishings weren’t white and vanilla cream. She looked like she perfectly matched her surroundings. The linen suit, heels, and smart bob drove him crazy. Who the hell hung out looking like that? The only weakness he deciphered was the tiny black ink spot on the edge of her sleeve. Probably from holding a pen that leaked. Her other saving grace was the loss of one earring. When she moved her head, subtle pearls caught the light at her ears, but one was bare. Maybe she’d lost it sometime today and hadn’t figured it out. The fact comforted him that she wasn’t a robot but real. Even better was her temper and her sharp tongue.
It was kind of magnificent.
Caleb watched her pretty pink mouth curl upward in a sexy kitten growl and her pretty pink nails curl inward as if ready to pounce. He locked his muscles down tight and rode out the fierce firestorm of pure want battering his dick. Well, this was not expected. He liked his women rough, tumbled, and messy. Morgan probably had sex with the lights off, under expensive sheets, full makeup on, and a wet wipe handy for quick cleanups.
But damn, she was kind of hot.
He studied her closely, and sure enough, there was a gleam of heat lasering from those china-blue eyes. Her cheeks flushed, and her breath came a bit faster than normal. A tight, swirling energy buzzed around them, a mixture of arousal, temper, and hormones. Hmm, interesting. She definitely felt the same connection, but like him, seemed determined to ignore it. Much easier to hold on to the prickly dislike they had for each other. He never slept with anyone on a job. Mixing business and pleasure was disastrous. He’d had too many close calls with women who liked the side benefit of banging their contractor, but Caleb wasn’t stupid. He knew when to use his big head rather than his little one. There were tons of other women willing and able, and not pissy enough to ruin the job over jealousy, possessiveness, or spite.
No. Nothing could happen between them, but it was kind of fun to push her limits.
Her pupils dilated when he suddenly leaned in real close. Their faces were inches apart. He caught her scent—a balanced mix of floral and citrus, clean and refreshing and completely addictive. Caleb barely managed not to take a huge sniff. Her lips parted, dewy and moist, and he clung to his iron-will control that had served him in all situations, including the time he’d been greeted by a new client with a welcoming smile and naked body. He’d tipped his head, told her they’d talk when she had clothes on, and left while she cursed his retreating back.
“I have one question for you.”
Her body stiffened. Her voice came out a tad ragged. “What?”