He shook his head. Who was he fooling? She’d never snuggle up to him in a million years, not even with this crazy attraction thickening the air between them. The unspoken tension was driving him bonkers.

But Elise wasn’t the type of woman he could ask on a date and send flowers to. Not initially. He had to scale her thick walls first, and he wasn’t sure where the handholds were.

Elise was a prickly, hard-headed Scot whose external toughness repelled most men. While she might be clever, talented, and gorgeous, she was also, well . . . Elise.

In the past, he hadn’t let it bother him, but if he put one foot wrong, he’d wonkify their relationship forever. A tightrope walker had more solid footing than he did.

Yet, he was a born risk-taker, and he debated whether to stir the embers of what lay smoking between them. He tilted his face in her direction, the back of his head indenting the sofa cushion as he studied her profile.

With her eyes on the game, she lifted her water bottle to her lips. She glanced at Harry while she swallowed, her expression changing from open to guarded. “What?”

“I was trying to decide if you are as lovely now as you were back at uni.” He said it as though discussing the weather.

Elise blinked, obviously taken off guard by his remark. She fumbled with the cap of her water bottle as she screwed it back on. He had flustered her. His inner self chuckled that he had gotten her goat so easily. Teasing Elise made her eyes spark and heightened her color, a breathtaking combination.

“What game are you playing?” she demanded.

“No games.”

“To quote my father’s favorite expression, ‘Codswallop.’ You are up to something, Harry Benson.”

“Codswallop?” he asked. “That’s rather an English comment, isn’t it?”

She glowered at him. “Would you prefer one of my more colorful Scottish ones? I know a good number of them. My brother, Roddy, never spared my tender ears.”

Harry grinned. “Your eyes positively spark sometimes; do you know that? They’re rather like a cat’s.” He reached over and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. She really was exquisite, but he couldn’t tell her just yet. Even he knew that was rushing his fences.

Elise sat ramrod straight, her long, red hair cascading partway down her back. Thoroughly engrossed in her defiance, he didn’t notice the sudden coil of tension in her body. In one fluid motion, Elise snagged his water bottle and doused him with its contents.

Sputtering, he glanced down at his shirt, then back up again.

“Who’s grinning like a fool now?” She laughed. “That ought to cool your ardor.”

“Playful, are we?”