She had t
o focus, she thought, doing up her seat belt and sitting back against the soft leather while staring ahead in an effort to not watch Leo do the same. Concentrate on business. Not on his hands on the steering wheel or his hard muscled, jean-clad thighs so close that touching them would be almost accidental...
Business, she told herself, snapping her gaze back to where it should be, that was, the windscreen. That was the thing.
‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’ she asked as he pulled away from the kerb, drove down the road and smoothly slipped into the heavy rush-hour traffic.
‘I wasn’t planning on it.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
Abby twisted round a bit and stared at him. She couldn’t help it, and it did give her a lovely view of his profile. ‘A surprise?’
‘That’s right.’
‘As a rule event planners aren’t great fans of surprises. We’re good at organising them, lousy at being on the receiving end of them, especially when the latter happens slap bang in the middle of the former.’
‘I think you’ll like this one.’
She doubted it. She doubted it very much, and now she wished she’d quizzed him a bit harder when he’d first suggested this trip, wished she hadn’t been quite so dizzily distracted by the sound of his voice. ‘You said it was about work.’
‘That’s right. There’s a party to be organised.’
‘What for?’
‘You’ll see.’
Abby dropped her gaze to the faint smile that was tugging at his lips, and frowned. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re pleased with yourself?’
‘Because I am.’
And just like that her temper sparked because she was tired, frustrated and tense, her career was not his plaything and actually there was nothing remotely amusing about any of this. ‘OK, look, Leo. I get that this is, for some reason, tickling you pink, and you think you’re being really clever and mysterious by being so secretive, but consider my point of view for a moment. I’m heading to a business meeting about which I know absolutely nothing. I don’t know who the client is. I’ve had no chance to prepare or to do any research. I don’t like it. I don’t feel comfortable. And you’re not playing fair.’
‘Maybe not but you’ll be fine. You can organise a party standing on your head with your eyes closed.’ He shot her a quick searing glance that did nothing to calm the flurry of nerves that were churning up her stomach. ‘And besides, I should think you know pretty much everything there is to know about the client.’
‘I do?’
‘Yup.’
That was some small comfort, she supposed, but still... ‘How would you feel if the roles were reversed?’
‘One hundred per cent confident in my ability.’
‘Sure you would.’
‘I’d also trust me.’
‘Easy for you to say. You know you. I don’t.’
‘I’d trust you.’
‘Why?’
‘You’ve never given me cause not to.’
‘Neither have I given you much cause to trust me. Nor you me.’