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“I have shirts.”
“They’d be enormous on me.”
“Better to swim in a shirt than be drenched in someone else’s drink, right?” His brows knit together. “It’s cold out there. You’ll freeze.”
“I’m going straight home.” She tugged on her handbag strap as if to recommit to that plan. “Besides, your date is waiting.”
“She’ll wait,” he waved a hand through the air, as if physically dismissing the other woman.
Maddie let out a low whistle, her disapproval obvious. “You really are a piece of work.”
“With respect, you hardly know me.”
“I know everything I need to know.”
“Like I’m a real estate investor looking to pay above market rate for your elderly grandfather’s house?” he demanded.
“It’s our house,” she snapped, then pressed her fingers to her temple.
“My apologies, his name is on the paperwork. Has there been a change I didn’t know about?”
Her jaw dropped and she hated him then, with a violent passion. “Oh, go to hell.”
She turned to leave but he moved quickly, catching up with her. “We got off to a bad start. You’re angry and I’m—surprised,” he said after a pause. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight.”
“You weren’t expecting to meet me ever. Your business plans seem to revolve around hoodwinking kindly senior citizens into handing over the keys to their homes and in the meantime, you assuage whatever conscience you might have by telling yourself you’re paying more than they could get on the open market. You don’t think about the true value of the house, the sentimental value, the history, the feel of the area. You don’t think about the fact that for decades those houses have stood, side by side, like friends on the bluff, old and weathered, but no less beautiful for that. You don’t think about—,” She trailed off, because his eyes had dropped to her shirt again. “Would you stop staring at my breasts?”
His eyes widened. “I’m not. But you’re shivering, the shirt is a mess, and I can’t let you leave like this.”
“You can’t let me?” she huffed out.
“I can’t let you.”
“Who do you think you are to let me do anything?”
“I like your grandfather. I respect him. There’s no way he’d want you striding out into the Manhattan night like that. So come up and get changed, and then you can go. Deal?”
“No, it’s not a deal,” she repeated, but he was right; she was freezing.
“I’ll even let you hurl abuse at me through the bedroom door,” he said with an impish grin, so her fingers itched to slap him. “If that makes you feel better?”
“It does, marginally,” she repeated, her words overly saccharine.
“So?”
“Fine,” she flicked her gaze towards the ceiling. “But only because it’s cold out and I don’t particular relish being a laughingstock because of you.”
“Heaven forbid.” He reached out and put a hand in the small of her back, but she jerked away from him, sending a fulminating glare in his direction.
“I’m sure it goes against all your instincts, but try not to touch me, Rocco. I’m not interested in you, and I’m sure as hell not going to be charmed by your ‘irresistible billionaire’ act, so don’t bother trying.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m serious.” She strode towards the elevator with Rocco right behind her, so she missed the moment he shrugged out of his jacket. She didn’t miss the moment the soft, expensive wool wrapped around her shoulders, enveloping her in his subtle, masculine fragrance and a welcome sense of warmth. “If you think you can flirt your way into a property deal, then you clearly have no idea how dead set against this whole thing I am.”
“I know how you feel,” he said quietly, eyes scanning her face. “Your grandfather’s explained.”
Betrayal sliced through her and she sucked in a deep breath, grateful the lift whooshed open at that exact moment, because the idea of her grandfather having told this man how much the house meant to Maddie—and why—made her feel vulnerable and exposed in a way she hated. Not him. Not this guy.
