Then I realized why he'd reacted so fiercely. Someone was behind him. 4 Mortified by the sudden intrusion into our privacy, I scrambled up and back into the armrest, yanking down my skirt. "...two o'clock appointment is here." It took an endless moment to realize Cross and I were still alone in the room, that the voice I'd heard had come through a speaker. Cross stood at the far end of the sofa, flushed and scowling, his chest heaving. His tie was loosened and the fly of his slacks strained against a very impressive erection. I had a nightmare vision in my head of what I must look like. And I was late getting back to work. "Christ." He shoved both hands through his hair. "It's the middle of the fucking day. In my goddamn fucking office!" I got to my feet and tried to straighten my appearance. "Here." He came to me, yanking my skirt up again.
" I grimaced at him, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old, and looked away. "Am I wrong?" I tried to ignore him. "I didn't think so," he murmured smugly. "Why does it matter to you?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds. "That's a very good question," he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get. I sighed, scowling at the blackboard. "Am I annoying you?" he asked. He sounded amused. I glanced at him without thinking... and told the truth again. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read -- my mother always calls me her open book." I frowned. "On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he meant it. "You must be a good reader then," I replied. "Usually
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