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‘But you don’t remember me.’
‘Sure I do.’ His warm breath feathered against her cheek. ‘You’re the little voyeur on the stairwell.’
She tensed and drew back. ‘You remember? But how?’
‘I told you, those eyes are very unusual.’ His lips curved, in that same offhand grin that had captivated her over a decade ago. And suddenly, she understood. This wasn’t a seduction. He was making fun of her.
She placed her hands on his chest, stumbled back, the sweet, heady buzz of flirtation and arousal replaced by embarrassment. ‘I should go.’
He caught her elbow as she stepped back. ‘Hey? What’s the rush all of a sudden?’
‘I just … I have to go,’ she mumbled, pulling her arm free.
‘Don’t be ridiculous—your coat isn’t back yet.’
She tugged down the hem of her tunic, feeling hideously exposed.
‘I’ll wait downstairs, in the lobby.’ It would be mortifying in her bare feet, but what could be more mortifying than simpering all over a guy who was secretly laughing at her?
She crossed the living room, holding her head up.
‘Hang on a minute. You’re being absurd. What exactly are you so upset about?’
The frustrated words stopped her dead. She swung round.
He stood by his walnut coffee table, looking like a poster boy for original sin and the humiliation coalesced in her stomach into a hot ball of resentment.
‘I know I’m absurd,’ she said, and watched his brow crease in a puzzled frown. ‘I had a massive crush on you. Which was my own stupid fault. I admit it.’ She walked back and poked him in the chest. ‘But that doesn’t give you the right to make fun of me. Now or then.’
He grasped her finger, the green of his irises darkening to a stormy emerald. ‘I’m not making fun of you. And I didn’t then.’
‘Yes, you did.’ She tugged her finger free, not liking the way his touch had set off those silly shivers again. ‘I heard you and Jenny Kelty laughing at me.’ Not that it mattered now, but it was the principle of the thing. She had gone over that encounter a thousand times in her mind in the months that followed. And felt more and more mortified every time. Why had she stood there like a lemon? Why had she smiled at him? But she could see now, she hadn’t been the only one at fault. They shouldn’t have laughed at her.
‘Who the hell is Jenny Kelty?’ he asked.
‘Unbelievable,’ she said, exasperated. ‘Don’t you remember any of the girls you slept with back then either?’
‘It was a long time ago.’ He shoved his fingers through his hair, the movement jerky and a lot less relaxed than before. ‘And whatever her name was, I didn’t sleep with her. You put a stop to that.’
‘Well, good,’ she said, righteous indignation framing each word. ‘I’m glad I saved Jenny from becoming yet another notch on your bedpost.’
‘You didn’t save Jenny. She saved herself. Once I found out what a cow she was, my interest in her cooled considerably.’
Jenny had been a cow, and every girl foolish enough to cross her had known it, but Cassie was still startled by the vehemence in the statement.
‘So what changed your mind about Jenny?’ She threw the words back at him. ‘Did she refuse to snog you?’
His eyebrows rose another notch at the sarcastic tone. And Cassie felt power surge through her veins as if she had been plugged into a nuclear reactor.
Finally she, Cassie Fitzgerald, was standing up for herself. And not letting her rose-tinted glasses blind her to the truth. She wasn’t dumb little Cassie who had caught her fiancée on the couch with his lover and was too stupid to see it coming. Or naive little Cassie who felt pathetically grateful just because a sexy guy had said her eyes were an unusual colour and that he wanted to kiss her. She was bold, brash, powerful Cassie, prepared to fight for the respect and consideration she deserved.
‘She didn’t refuse to snog me,’ he said easily.
‘I refused to snog her. After she shouted at you and scared the hell out of you.’
‘I—’ The tirade she’d planned cut off. ‘After she what?’
‘I don’t like bullies and I told her so.’ He slung a hand into the pocket of his trousers. ‘She got the hump and stomped off. And I was glad to see the back of her.’
