“You’re not going anywhere until we settle this. You keep your big, grimy hands off my mother, or I’ll turn that building you’re so fond of into a parking lot.”

His eyes slitted open. She found the glitter of angry eyes immensely satisfying. “A big threat from a small woman,” he said in a deceptively lazy voice. She was entirely too close for his comfort, and her scent was swimming in his senses, tangling his temper with something more basic. “You should concentrate on the suit, and let your mother handle her own.”

“Suit? What suit?”

“The banker who spent the evening sniffing your ankles.”

Her face flooded with color. “He certainly was not. He’s entirely too well mannered to sniff at my ankles or anything else. And Channing is my business.”

“So. You have your business, and I have mine. Now, let’s see what we have together.” One moment he was stretched out, and the next he had her twisted over his lap. Stunned, Sydney pressed her hands against his chest and tried to struggle out of his hold. He tightened it. “As you see, I have no manners.”

“Oh, I know it.” She tossed her head back, chin jutting. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He wished to hell he knew. She was rigid as an ice floe, but there was something incredible, and Lord, inevitable, about the way she fit into his arms. Though he was cursing himself, he held her close, close enough that he felt the uneven rise and fall of her breasts against his chest, tasted the sweet, wine-tipped flavor of her breath on his lips.

There was a lesson here, he thought grimly, and she was going to learn it.

“I’ve decided to teach you how to kiss. From what I saw from the roof, you did a poor job of it with the polo player.”

Shock and fury had her going still. She would not squirm or scream or give him the satisfaction of frightening her. His eyes were close and challenging. She thought she understood exactly how Lucifer would have looked as he walked through the gates of his own dark paradise.

“You conceited jerk.” Because she wanted to slug him, badly, she fisted her hands closed and looked haughtily down her small, straight nose. “There’s nothing you can teach me.”

“No?” He wondered if he’d be better off just strangling her and having done with it. “Let’s see then. Your Channing put his hands here. Yes?” He slid them over her shoulders. The quick, involuntary shudder chilled her skin. “You afraid of me, milaya?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” But she was, suddenly and deeply. She swallowed the fear as his thumbs caressed her bare skin.

“Tremble is good. It makes a man feel strong. I don’t think you trembled for this Channing.”