He grinned. “I was playing with your neck. I like your neck.” To prove it, he skimmed a finger down it again.

She clamped her teeth on the delicious shudder that followed it down her spine. “I wish you’d move over.”

“Okay.” He shifted closer. “Better?”

Calm, she told herself. She would be calm. After a cleansing breath, she turned her head. “If you don’t…” And his lips brushed over hers, stopping the words and the thought behind them.

“I want you to kiss me back.”

She started to shake her head, but couldn’t manage it.

“I want to watch you when you do,” he murmured. “I want to know what’s there.”

“There’s nothing there.”

But his mouth closed over hers and proved her a liar. She fell into the kiss, one hand lost in his hair, the other clamped on his shoulder.

She felt everything. Everything. And it all moved too fast. Her mind seemed to dim until she could barely hear the clatter and bustle of the bar. But she felt his mouth angle over hers, his teeth nip, his tongue seduce.

Whatever she was doing to him, he was doing to her. He knew it. He saw it in the way her eyes glazed before they closed, felt it in the hot, ready passion of her lips. It was supposed to soothe his ego, prove a point. But it did neither.

It only left him aching.

“Sorry to break this up.” The waitress slapped two frosted mugs on the table. “Steak’s on its way.”

Sydney jerked her head back. His arms were still around her, though his grip had loosened. And she, she was plastered against him. Her body molded to his as they sat in a booth in a public place. Shame and fury battled for supremacy as she yanked herself away.

“That was a despicable thing to do.”

He shrugged and picked up his beer. “I didn’t do it alone.” Over the foam, his eyes sharpened. “Not this time, or last time.”

“Last time, you…”

“What?”

Sydney lifted her mug and sipped gingerly. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

He wanted to argue, even started to, but there was a sheen of hurt in her eyes that baffled him. He didn’t mind making her angry. Hell, he enjoyed it. But he didn’t know what he’d done to make her hurt. He waited until the waitress had set the steaks in front of them.

“You’ve had a rough day,” he said so kindly Sydney gasped. “I don’t mean to make it worse.”

“It’s…” She struggled with a response. “It’s been a rough day all around. Let’s just put it behind us.”

“Done.” Smiling, he handed her a knife and fork. “Eat your dinner. We’ll have a truce.”

“Good.” She discovered she had an appetite after all.

CHAPTER FIVE