Secrets Of The Night: A Case of Kiss and Tell. Katherine Garbera

stop them now. Their bodies knew what they wanted and now that they were touching their minds had stopped arguing for anything else.

      He pulled the fabric away from her body and slipped one finger under to feel the softness of her skin.

      There was a loud rap on the door and Conner stepped away from Nichole. He realized that he couldn’t let his body take over. This was probably how his father had gotten into the mess he’d made of their lives.

      “Just a minute,” he called, turning back to see that Nichole was struggling to get up off the desk. There was a strong blush on her face and she looked unkempt. He gestured to his washroom. “Why don’t you take a minute to repair the damage I did.”

      She nodded and walked across the room. As he watched her go, he knew that he’d had as much of Nichole as she could afford to give.

      Nichole was losing control. She realized how little she had over herself and Conner. He was making a mockery of her and the entire interview. She had to stop compromising herself this way. She closed the door of the executive bathroom behind her and locked it.

      She saw herself in the mirror. Her hair and clothes were disheveled and she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. She met her own gaze and gave herself a frown.

      “You worked hard for your career and you are about to let a man derail you,” she said to herself sternly, reaching into her purse for her makeup bag.

      “Dammit, Nic, you can do this. You can beat him.” She reapplied her lipstick and put some powder on her nose. Then she straightened her clothing, turning to make sure she looked as good from the back as she did from the front.

      On the plus side, she could definitely count on the fact that she had kept Conner off balance. But her plan to beat a strategic retreat had almost backfired. She’d underestimated her own desire for him. And that ticked her off. She’d always been in control in her attractions with other men.

      She’d learned early on to keep a level head, but Conner somehow had gotten through her guard. She knew that she’d never be able to sleep with him and still be the calm, cool reporter she prided herself on being.

      And without that who was she?

      She leaned in close to the mirror, searching for the answer, but the woman looking back had no answers. She realized that she was taking too long in here. She didn’t want Conner to think that she was scared to come back out or to even let him guess he might have gotten the upper hand in their negotiations.

      Which, even she had to admit, he had.

      She opened the door and found that he was standing across the room staring out the plate-glass windows at the city below. She walked over to stand next to him. Having grown up in Texas with lots of wide-open spaces, she always found it a little breathtaking to see the cityscape spread out before her.

      “I think you owe me one answer,” she said.

      “I believe I do,” he said. His voice was firm and calm, but he seemed subdued around her now.

      She wondered if their embrace had shaken him as well. It was easy to look at him and see a man who was always in control of his life and his environment, but she had seen little chinks in that facade.

      “Fire away,” he said.

      But she was still muddled and the questions she wanted answers to had nothing to do with an article. She wanted to know why a normal relationship was out of the question with him. Why he’d only consent to take her as a mistress when it was clear he wanted her. But that wasn’t the question to ask now.

      She cleared her throat. “Let me grab my notebook.”

      “By all means,” he said, walking back to his desk and sitting down.

      It was hard to believe he’d been kissing her so passionately only a few minutes ago. Sitting before her was a totally different man … the man she’d been expecting him to be from the beginning.

      Given that this might be her last chance to question him, she wanted to make it count. She took a deep breath and asked the question she really wanted an answer to. One that was highly personal and one that, depending on the answer, could give her the backbone for her entire article.

      “I’ve read finance magazines that say your business acumen is very much like your father’s. Are you still single today because that’s not the only area in which you and he are the same? Do you fear making the same mistakes he did?”

      His mouth tightened and she knew that her probing questions were making his hackles rise, but he owed her. She’d given him much more than the one kiss he’d asked for. And she was fairly confident that he was an honorable man.

      “I’m not going to answer that other than to say that many people have said my business instincts and my father’s are the same, and aside from the fact that we both have helmed Macafee, I can’t see any other similarities.”

      “My question isn’t really about the business, Conner. I want to know if you’re afraid of being too much like him.”

      His mouth tightened and for the first time she felt a shiver of something almost like fear running down her spine. He wasn’t a man she wanted to be at odds with.

      “No comment.”

      “No comment?”

      “Did I stutter?” he asked flippantly.

      She stood up and walked to his desk. Placing both hands on the surface of it, she leaned over toward him. “We had a deal. I more than held up my end of the bargain.”

      He steepled his fingers together and stared at her over the top of them.

      “You did, red. I never expected for things to … get so hot, so fast.”

      “Me neither.”

      He gave her a little half smile as he dropped his hands to the armrest on his chair.

      “I’m not asking for much. I won’t print a direct quote from you on this in my article, but I do want to know because I think that is part of the cornerstone of who you are today.”

      He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”

      “Won’t is more like it. You owe me,” she said.

      “Ask a different question,” he said. “I’ll allow you time to come up with one.”

      “I have asked my question and I expect an answer. You didn’t bargain for any approval over the question I wanted to ask. I’m a reporter. I need the answer.”

      “Reporters are only privy to certain parts of their subjects’ lives. As I’m sure you know.”

      “Yes,” she said. “But certainly a mistress has more rights.”

      “No,” he said. “I’m afraid she doesn’t. You only have the access that I grant you.”

      She was stunned speechless. And so angry she wanted to punch him. He had tricked her. She doubted that if she went to bed with him he’d hold up his end of the bargain he’d wasted her morning trying to get her to agree to.

      “Excuse me?” she said. For the first time he heard the tang of her Texas accent coming through.

      “I’m not giving you carte blanche,” he said.

      “I didn’t set any limits on that embrace,” she said.

      “But you did,” he pointed out, remembering his strong desire to see the expanse of her creamy, freckle-covered skin.

      “We’re in your office,” she said. “We can’t go too far.”

      “Yes, we are,” he conceded. “But I believe you were attempting to do what I’m doing now. We are each limiting the access the other has to what they want. Trying to give away just enough to keep this going.”

      She nibbled