Homeport

was entitled to her pride. She wasn’t going to rush through the door and throw herself into his arms like some moonstruck lover.
    He’d been gone nearly two weeks, and not once had he called her. Oh, there’d been contact, she thought as she hunted up her compact and used the stingy mirror to smooth her hair, to add lipstick. Memos and telexes and e-mail and faxes, all sent by some office drone and signed in his name.
    He hadn’t bothered to ease away kindly when he was done with her. He’d had his office staff do it for him.
    She wouldn’t make a scene. They still had business, on several levels. She would see it through.

    He wouldn’t have the satisfaction of knowing she’d needed him. Had needed him every day and night of those two weeks.
    She steadied herself, unlocking a drawer to lay the latest fax on a pile of others. They’d been coming in daily now, some only a line or two, others rambling like the one today. The printout of the e-mail was with them, though Lost1 had never contacted her again.
    She locked the drawer, pocketed the key, then went to the door.
    “Ryan.” She sent him a polite smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Please, come in.”
    At her desk, Lori shifted her eyes from face to face, cleared her throat. “Should I hold your calls?”
    “No, that won’t be necessary. Would you like some—”
    She never finished. As she closed the door behind them, he pressed her back against it and crushed his mouth to hers in a fiercely hungry kiss that battered against the wall she’d so carefully built.
    Fisting her hands, she kept her arms at her sides and gave him nothing back, not even the passion of resistance.
    When he drew away—his eyes narrowed in speculation—she inclined her head and shifted aside. “How was your trip?”
    “Long. Where did you go, Miranda?”
    “I’ve been right here. I’m sure you want to see the final design. I have the drawings. I’ll be happy to take you down and show you what we’ve finished so far. I think you’ll be pleased.”
    She moved to the drawing board and began unrolling a large sheet of paper.
    “That can wait.”
    She looked up, angled her head. “Did you have something else in mind?”
    “Entirely. But obviously that can wait as well.” His eyes remained narrowed as he crossed to her, as if he were seeing her for the first time and taking in all the details. When they were eye to eye, he cupped a hand under her chin, slowly spread his fingers over her cheek.

    “I missed you.” He said it with a hint of puzzlement in his voice, as if he’d just solved a complex riddle. “More than I intended to, expected to. More than I wanted to.”
    “Really?” She stepped away because his touch left her shaken. “Is that why you called so often?”
    “That’s why I didn’t call.” He dipped his hands in his pockets. He felt like a fool. And there was a nervous flutter in his stomach that warned him a man could experience emotions more alarming than foolishness. “Why didn’t you call me? I made certain you knew how to reach me.”
    She tilted her head. It was an odd and rare sight, she thought. Seeing Ryan Boldari uncomfortable. “Yes, your various assistants were very efficient in giving me your whereabouts. As the project here was proceeding on schedule, there wasn’t any reason to bother you about it. And since you seem to have decided to handle the other area of business on your own, there was little I could do about it.”
    “You weren’t supposed to matter quite so much.” He rocked back on his heels as he spoke, as if trying to find his balance. “I don’t want you to matter this much. It’s in my way.”
    She turned aside, hoping she was quick enough to keep him from seeing the hurt she knew flashed into her eyes. Anything that potent, that keen, had to show. “If you’d wanted to end our personal relationship, Ryan, you could have done it less cold-bloodedly.”
    He laid his hands on her shoulders, then tightened his grip, spun her angrily around when she tried to wrench away. “Do I look like I want to end it?” He dragged her toward him, covering her mouth with his again, holding her there as she struggled for freedom. “Does that feel like I want to end it?”
    “Don’t play with me this way.” She stopped fighting, and her voice was shaky and weak. She could despise herself for it, but she couldn’t change it. “I’m not equipped for this kind of game.”
    “I didn’t know I could hurt you.” As