He suppressed a grin when he saw her glance surreptitiously around for her bag. Much as he hated to admit it, he admired her spunk.
‘No, I didn’t bin it,’ he said conversationally. ‘Although there wasn’t much in there worth keeping apart from a miniature pair of black panties.’
Her eyes flew to his and he had to wonder why he’d said that. It had gone totally against his intention to direct her to the sofa and tell her to keep quiet.
Her mouth gaped with embarrassment and he almost felt sorry for her. She’d obviously forgotten they were in there.
Then she recovered and sauntered across the room. ‘I’m not sure they’re your size, but you’re welcome to keep them.’
‘I generally like to take them off women, not put them on,’ he purred, enjoying the way her eyes widened before lancing him with a knowing look.
‘So I’ve heard,’ she rejoined. ‘But I was referring to your personal use, not…’ Her pouty lips tightened and she looked flustered, dropping her gaze to the assortment of cups in front of her. ‘Never mind. I take it one of these is mine?’
‘Yes. Take your pick. I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or tea so I ordered both.’
She looked at him as if she thought such thoughtfulness was beyond him and his mouth compressed. He could be thoughtful when the moment called for it.
‘And I know what you were referring to.’
She didn’t respond but sipped pleasurably at the tea she’d just poured. He watched the way her mouth pursed daintily around the edge of the cup. It hadn’t been quite so dainty when it had opened under his six years ago, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about that.
It had been six years, for heaven’s sake. He couldn’t even remember the colour of his last lover’s hair let alone how she’d tasted, and yet just looking at Lily Wild brought her unique flavour to mind. Her generous curves. Her responsiveness…Ah, the sweetness of a response that had most likely been fuelled by chemical enhancers. Or had it? It was a question that had kept him up late on more than one occasion.
‘I feel like I’m on an episode of This is Your Life.’ She smiled from behind her cup, the incongruous comment thankfully pulling his attention away from her mouth. ‘Only the host usually smiles, and I would have expected at least one or two guests to have turned up by now.’
Tristan scowled—both at the flippant remark and his unquestionable hunger for somebody he didn’t even like.
‘Okay.’ She sighed, completely oblivious to the tumultuous thoughts playing out in his head. ‘I’m presuming you don’t want my shoe size, so why don’t you tell me what happens next and—?’
‘No, I don’t want your shoe size,’ he agreed, cutting her off mid-sentence and leaning back in his chair. Some devil on his shoulder wanted to throw her as off-balance as he felt. ‘I already know it. Along with your jeans size, your bra size, and of course what type of panties you like to wear.’
‘That’s an invasion of privacy,’ she snapped.
‘So sue me,’ he drawled, unaccountably pleased to see her affable expression fade and her eyes flash purple sparks. Her watery attempt at friendship had annoyed him. He didn’t want that from her. In fact he didn’t want anything at all from her!
Lily pressed her lips together and tried to hold on to her temper. How dared he? Lounging back in his executive chair like King Tut. She took a deep breath and willed herself to remain calm. Polite and aloof…
Just imagine he’s a difficult director you have to put up with for a short while. You’ve done that before.
She was trying to think of some way to regain her equilibrium when Tristan’s mobile rang and thankfully he picked it up. He didn’t even acknowledge her as he pushed away from his desk and presented her with his back as he walked to stand in the vee of the floor to ceiling windows that partially lined two walls of his corner office.
Lily started reeling through every foul name she could think of to call him, and then her eyes wandered to the view outside his window. London only had a handful of luxury skyscrapers and Tristan owned one of them. It wasn’t the tallest, from what she could see, but it was certainly located on prime real estate near the heart of the city. Lily could see Big Ben, Westminster Abbey and the London Eye, and she hadn’t had to pay a penny for the privilege.
Without even being aware of it she shifted her gaze from outside the window to the man standing in front of it, legs apart and one hand in his trouser pocket, pulling the fabric of his trousers tight across his taut b
ackside.
Her eyes drifted down over his long legs and up again to the wide sweep of his shoulders, to the ripple of muscle evident beneath his close-fitting shirt. He really was an impressive male and, given his sedentary job, he must work out all the time to stay as fit as he looked.
As if sensing her too-intimate regard, Tristan glanced over his shoulder and pierced her with his green eyes.
The air between them seemed to thicken. Lily’s breath caught and her body hummed with a vibrant awareness. Then a dismissive expression flitted across his face, and Lily released a long, steadying breath when he swung his gaze back to the window.
She heard him speaking rapidly to the caller about some EU presentation, effortlessly switching between English and a language she couldn’t place. His keen intelligence was evident in the incisive timbre of his voice.
Lily’s stomach growled, and she picked up a sandwich from the plate and forced herself to chew it. It was beyond her that she should feel such a strong physical reaction to someone who clearly couldn’t stand the sight of her. And it was getting a bit hard to put it down to stress and anxiety. But surely the brain had some input when it came to sexual attraction?
Tristan ended his call, dropped the phone into his pocket and stalked to his desk, gripping the high back of his chair as he studied her with relentless intensity.