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‘You’re no longer working for me. Technically Lorenzo will be your boss.’ With wide-spread fingers, he ruffled through his hair, rubbing his head hard. He closed his eyes for a second. ‘I’m sorry, OK?’
Oh, it was hours too late for the repentant-man act. She wasn’t falling for it. ‘Maybe next time you should try keeping your hormones in check. What was it all about anyway? Kiss-a-temp day?’
‘You misunderstand.’ His eyes shot open, lancing through her. ‘I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’ll never regret that experience. It would be an insult to you if I did.’
‘Oh, please.’ Too smooth. Way too smooth. And the sparkling humour in his unwavering gaze just made her want to tell him so. But, damn, her cheeks were burning—she must look like a totally floored teen. So embarrassing.
His scrutiny intensified. ‘What I’m sorry about is the whole office watching, and the gossip.’
‘I don’t care about the gossip. People can think what they like—it makes no difference to me.’
His brows flickered but he didn’t question. ‘Fair enough, but I care about it and I won’t have either you or me on the line because of it. I’m sorry about what the agency did. This will make it right.’ He sighed, jammed his hands in his pockets. ‘Where’s your family—in Australia?’
‘I don’t have any. My parents are dead,’ she said baldly.
‘I’m sorry.’ His frown deepened.
Instantly she regretted telling him—she didn’t want his pity, but more than that she didn’t want to remember. The lump in her chest when she thought of her mother was like sharp, burning ice and she hurriedly turned her thoughts away from her. But not to her father—as far as she was concerned he’d never been alive to her. Instead she pushed the focus back onto Alex, remembering what she’d been told. ‘Your father died last year.’
Silence. She’d hit a nerve. His frown disappeared as his face smoothed, then it shuttered completely into unreadable blandness. ‘You’re up on your research.’
‘You were the number-one topic of conversation at the water-cooler.’ She aimed for flippant, trying to cover the moment of awkwardness. ‘I didn’t even have to ask.’
A slight grin reappeared. ‘But you were going to? You wanted to find out?’
‘No. It was all thrust upon me.’
His low laughter refreshed the room, lightening everything—including her mood. She even grinned back.
He immediately pressed his argument home. ‘Look, I’m hardly here. I travel a lot. It would be good to have someone minding the house. You can stay for a week or two and save some money to get into a place of your own. It’s the simplest solution. We’ll hardly see each other.’
Dani considered it. What was she so worried about—her unreal attraction to him? If he was away a lot, then she could control it, right? And it wasn’t as if he were trying to pounce again. He might have said he didn’t regret kissing her, but neither had he asked for another. It was a bit deflating, but it seemed all he felt for her now was a sense of responsibility—not unbridled lust. She wouldn’t misinterpret his charm as meaning something more.
His brows lifted fractionally, as if he knew he’d won. ‘So it’s a deal.’ He held out his hand.
Dani looked at it. Surely she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. She could work, not worry about a roof over her head and be able to find Eli.
But, like that day in the lift, her instinct was warning her again, that sense of impending danger. She ignored it and reached out. ‘Thanks.’
The spark shot up her arm. His fingers tightened. And she realised her instinct had been bang on the money. She shouldn’t have touched him. He was the danger—his attraction too magnetic. He made her body go on edge in an entirely new way.
‘Don’t you want to know, Dani?’ The warmth from his whisper flooded her.
‘Know what?’ She beat the breathlessness with assertion.
‘What would have happened if we hadn’t been caught on camera? What would have been the next step?’
‘There wouldn’t have been a next step. I’ve already told you, it was a moment. Nothing more.’
‘You’re sure about that?’ He kept hold of her hand but took the two steps around the coffee table between them. ‘See, I think there would have been a next step, Dani. A very pleasurable one.’
Oh, hell. So it wasn’t just her feeling it. But she held her ground. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Alex, but I’m not going to be your next lover.’
‘No?’ His eyes danced.
‘No.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘I’m going to be your flatmate. And there’s a rule about flatmates, isn’t there?’ Don’t screw the crew.
His smile was reluctant but it was there. She took the chance to tug her hand from his. Even so, the victory was hollow. Now she knew she couldn’t possibly stay here, for she’d lied—she desperately wanted to know what would have happened next. But she figured she could get him to change his mind and hustle her into a hotel pronto. ‘Aren’t I going to cramp your style?’
‘How so?’
‘Who did you go out with last Friday night?’
‘No one.’ He shrugged. ‘I was in Sydney working.’
‘OK.’ Dani frowned. ‘What about the one before that?’
His hesitation was telling.
‘A woman. Obviously,’ Dani said, her voice as meltedchocolate smooth as his had been before.
Slowly he nodded.
‘And the Friday before that?’ Dani enquired. ‘A different woman, right?’
He squared his stance, facing her full on. ‘Yes.’
‘And you slept with them.’ Still calm, determinedly not judging.
‘No.’
That made her pause a moment. ‘Kissed them good-night, at least.’
‘Yes.’
Yeah. She knew what his kisses were like. ‘So isn’t it going to be tricky for you to bring a woman home when you have me staying here?’ She let a touch of taunt out then. She had to get him to realise sticking her in a hotel was a much better option. The prospect of staying in close confines with him made her feel giddy—she wasn’t sure she could keep her need-to-shimmy urges under control.
‘You know, you’re right.’ He had a devilish look on his face. ‘It might be a bit weird to bring dates home while having you as my little flatmate here. But that’s no problem.’ He paused, and she swore she could see the wickedness rippling through the rest of him as he stepped closer. ‘You can be my date while you’re staying here.’
‘What?’
‘There are a few things I have to go to and, you’re right, I like a companion. No reason why that can’t be you.’
She opened her mouth but he put a finger on it.
‘There isn’t anyone else around right now anyway.’ His green eyes bored into hers as he oh-so-unsubtly let her know he
was available.
‘Not this week, you mean.’ So there damn well shouldn’t be or he shouldn’t have kissed her like that.
‘So you can stay here and save, just for a week or two.’ He ignored her hit. ‘Until you’re in a position to take a place of your own. Meantime I have a dinner to go to tomorrow night—very nice venue, black tie. Don’t you love a little glamour?’
‘No.’ She threw him a dark look, trying to keep a grip on herself. This wasn’t what she’d meant to happen. He hadn’t even bothered to learn her name—she needed to keep that little fact up front and centre in her head.
‘I thought all women did.’
‘Not me.’
‘Oh.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll have to help you change your mind on that. Dances like this one can be a lot of fun.’
‘I thought you said it was a dinner.’
‘Followed by dancing.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Have you got something to wear?’ He ignored her start of annoyance. ‘We can go shopping tomorrow afternoon if you’d like.’
Go shopping? ‘You don’t need to Pretty Woman me, Alex,’ she said sharply. ‘I have something to wear.’
‘Great, that’s settled, then.’ He turned away flashing a Cheshire Cat smile, then turned back just as quick. ‘Oh…’
‘What?’ Rattled, she snapped—had she just agreed to go out with him tomorrow night? How had that happened?
‘What about you?’ With that too-bland expression he moved back into her space. ‘Who did you go out with last Friday night?’
‘I—’ She blinked. No one, of course.
‘What about the Friday before? Is there a boyfriend I ought to know about? I mean, you asked me, I can ask you, right? I don’t want to put you in a difficult position as my escort.’
Escort was not a good word—the unpleasant connotation compounded with his offer to take her shopping pushed her defence button. She wasn’t anybody’s paid-for plaything. She’d prefer to be the player, not the toy.
‘Of course you won’t.’ She lifted her chin and fired a shot at him. ‘I don’t do “boyfriends” as such, but I have a few joy boys around. I choose one to service me occasionally but we share nothing more than that. Variety,’ she added with a conspiratorial whisper. ‘You know.’ She was quite sure he did know. Quite sure he had a whole variety line-up of lovers himself—only his wouldn’t be imaginary.
