And here she comes now, he thought with a sinking feeling. Miss Trouble, herself.

The tall glass doors of the office building opened and Amanda slowly made her way toward his car. He could already feel the ice-blue gaze that seemed to penetrate right down to his very core. Her dark hair was pulled back from her gorgeous face in a sleek ponytail. Long bangs swept over her forehead. Today she wore a thin teal V-neck sweater over blue jeans. Casual for her, he thought absently. The sweater was tight enough for him to see clearly the generous swell of her breasts. His own jeans became tighter at the sight of her—but only in the front.

His knuckles whitened even more on the steering wheel.

He hated that she affected him like this. Other than lusting after her body for two years now, he honestly couldn’t stand the woman.

Why should he? She obviously despised him.

With one contemptuous look at the party where they first met, Amanda had stared a hole right through him to the other side as if her beautiful baby blues had laser beams hooked up to them. He’d felt naked and exposed, and not in a fun handcuffs-and-bedpost sort of way.

What the hell happened? he wondered, and not for the first time since that night.

He still didn’t know. One moment they were introducing themselves to each other and he was falling very quickly into those gorgeous eyes of hers, and the next moment she was giving him the freezing-cold shoulder. He just wished he’d been able to get an empathic read on her. It would have helped to pinpoint exactly what had turned her off about him. She’d said she didn’t have psychic walls up to block him, but he was less convinced.

It would make things much easier if he’d been able to forget about her and not want her nearly every day since. What did they say about the unattainable? Made it that much more exciting?