Enemy Within. AMANDA BROWNING

not a dinner companion!’

      ‘Just as well I did, because there’s nothing more liable to put me off my food than sitting across from a sour-faced woman.’

      Mickey gasped in outrage. ‘Your charm overwhelms me!’

      His gaze became speculative. ‘Do you want me to charm you, Hanlon? I thought you wanted me to treat you like a man.’

      ‘I want...’ She stopped her hasty retort mid-flow, aware that she was only making herself ridiculous in his eyes.

      ‘Yes? You want...?’ Ryan Douglas prompted, the glint of laughter in his eyes confirming her thought.

      Mickey drew breath slowly, amazed at how easily her usual calm temperament had been changed to aggression by the man standing before her. And as that only appeared to amuse him, she’d be civil if it killed her. ‘Mr Douglas, it’s been a long, frustrating day for me, too. All I want to do is go home.’

      If she had hoped to appeal to a better side of his nature, she quickly discovered he didn’t have one. ‘Your wants will have to wait. There are certain matters which have to be discussed. I didn’t plan on dealing with a woman, but nothing else has changed. We’ll have our...talk...over dinner.’

      Mickey fumed inwardly. He could have told her that in the first place, but he’d been having too much fun goading her. Though she was ready to spit nails, she found a dignified reply. ‘Very well, Mr Douglas, if you insist.’

      ‘Oh, I do,’ he returned softly. ‘And I also insist you stop calling me Mr Douglas. My name is Ryan; use it.’

      Not a request, but a command. Well, two could play at that game. ‘And my name is Mickey, not Hanlon!’

      He had the gall to grin. ‘Hanlon suits you better. Mickey is soft and feminine, while Hanlon is as tough as old boots.’

      If she had had an old boot, she would have chucked it right at his grinning face! What had she let herself in for? Even a day in Ryan Douglas’s company would be pure purgatory. But perhaps there was a way she could get a little of her own back. After all, they were on the ground now, but in the air they were in her territory. She’d find out then just what sort of stuff Ryan Douglas was made of!

      She looked up to find those intense blue eyes had narrowed. ‘Stop looking like the cat who got the cream, Hanlon. You’re beginning to make me nervous.’

      Mickey swallowed back a caustic laugh. The man didn’t have a nerve in the whole of his body! ‘We wouldn’t want that, would we, Mr...Ryan?’ She stressed his name as she caught the lift of his brows. ‘Not when you’re putting your life in my hands.’ She waggled her fingers under his nose, and very nearly yelped when he caught hold of them in his own large, strong hand. She couldn’t have protested even if she’d wanted to, because the jolt of electricity which had shot up her arm at the contact took her breath away. Horrified, she found herself staring at the sight of her own slim hand imprisoned in his, while her heart thudded almost painfully in her chest.

      Meanwhile, Ryan was studying his captive. ‘Hmm, long, graceful fingers. Hardly the strong, practical type. Are you sure you’re in the right line of work? Somehow, they just don’t fit the image,’ he mused, and Mickey quickly snatched her hand away, grateful for the excuse.

      ‘Don’t worry, I haven’t lost a paying passenger...yet,’ she shot back with all the aplomb she could muster, while surreptitiously rubbing her hand down her trousers in an attempt to stop the tingling.

      His lips quirked. ‘I don’t like the way you said that. Could you, by any chance, be flirting with me, Hanlon?’

      She froze, the animation dying out of her face. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—flirt with him, for to do so would be flirting with danger. Mentally and physically, she backed off. ‘Hardly! Women like me don’t flirt with men like you,’ she enlarged with distaste.

      ‘You say that as if you’ve met men like me before. Was it one of them who sent you running?’ he queried shrewdly, but only managed to put her on an even keel again.

      Secure in the knowledge that men like him and Jean-Luc were too vain to see they might not be the be-all and end-all, Mickey curved her lips with icy amusement. ‘Strange, isn’t it, how men always imagine it must be one of their kind who makes a woman the way she is?’

      ‘That’s because it usually is,’ Ryan observed watchfully. ‘You’re saying you’re different?’

      She laughed, turning to the door once more. ‘I’m not saying anything.’ She refused to be drawn into a personal discussion with him.

      Ryan followed her out into the hangar. ‘You don’t need to, Hanlon; your silence speaks for you.’

      Unseen by her antagonist, Mickey briefly closed her eyes. ‘Back off, Ryan. You’re my passenger, not my confessor.’

      Behind her, he laughed. ‘Do you have anything to confess?’ he challenged, then came to an abrupt halt as she swung to face him.

      He had pushed her an inch too far, and her finger stabbed at his chest. ‘If you want a confession, here’s one. I’ve made mistakes in my life, but the biggest one was having anything to do with you!’

      Hands hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, he looked down at her mockingly. ‘Why so touchy? Have I hit a nerve or ten?’

      Mickey turned away in a movement that was distressingly nearly a flounce. ‘Not even close. I just got out of bed the wrong side this morning,’ she snapped, trying to recover lost ground.

      ‘If you’d been in it with a man, it wouldn’t matter what side you got out of,’ he sent after her, bringing her round again, cheeks flaming.

      Painful memories rose dangerously near the surface, of reckless, selfish taking. But nothing was free. Pleasure had to be paid for. Passion could be a curse, a greedy monster. ‘Sex isn’t the answer to everything!’ she spluttered angrily.

      For once Ryan didn’t laugh. ‘If it isn’t the cure, it’s often the cause.’

      Mickey was beginning to feel she was being put through an emotional wringer, and every time she tried to free herself she just went round again. ‘Thank you, Dr Freud, and goodnight. For someone who says he won’t work with a woman, you keep harping on the fact that I am one,’ she accused.

      ‘Just trying to figure out what makes you tick, Hanlon,’ Ryan answered smoothly.

      ‘Better men than you have tried, and failed in the attempt,’ she shot back, and regretted it immediately when his lips curved drily.

      ‘Froze them all off, did you? I can’t say that surprises me. So it shouldn’t surprise you to hear you might just have met your match,’ he observed softly, with an undertone which set her heart knocking.

      Alarm shot through her system before she could suppress it. ‘You’re forgetting your own rules, Ryan,’ she reminded him, far too breathlessly. She felt vulnerable, and it was a bad feeling, because she knew the enemy was as much within as without.

      ‘Ah, but then rules are made to be broken. You intrigue me, Hanlon, and that means you might just be worth making an exception of.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE Crest Motor Hotel was a well known landmark in Prince Rupert, sitting on its bluff overlooking the harbour. Mickey had only ever admired it in passing. Entering the lobby, dressed in working clothes as she still was, made her feel that all eyes turned her way. Lord, how she hated that sensation! It plunged her back into another time, when every move she made had drawn avid attention, when she had felt the sting of shame burning her flesh and it had been as if a scarlet ‘A’ had been emblazoned on her forehead.

      She had done everything she could to make sure that would never happen to her again, down to wearing non-feminine clothes, and yet, with a feeling of almost hysterical irony, she found herself once