He’d returned to his coffee. ‘Your time is your own when I’m not around. As long you’re back here when I return, I see no problem.’
That had been the end of the subject.
After repeating his warning not to mention anything to her father he’d walked away. The man who’d shown her his pain and devastation had completely retreated.
His demeanour during their time indoors was icily courteous. However, when they went out, which they did most evenings, he was the attentive host, touching her, threading his fingers through her hair and gazing adoringly at her.
It was after the fifth night out that she realised he was pandering to the paparazzi. Without fail, a picture of them in a compromising position appeared in the newspapers the very next morning.
But while she cringed with every exposing photo, he shrugged it off. It wasn’t until her third weekend with him, when the newspapers posted the first poll results of the mayoral race, that she finally had her suspicions confirmed.
He was swimming in the pool, his lean and stunning body cutting through the water like the sleekest shark. The byline explaining the reasons behind the voters’ reaction had her surging to her feet and storming to the edge of the pool.
‘Is this why you’ve been taking me out every night since I moved in? So I’d be labelled the slut daughter of a man not fit to be mayor?’ She raised her voice loud enough to be heard above his powerful strokes.
He stopped mid-stroke, straightened and slicked back his wet hair. With smooth breaststrokes he swam to where she stood barefoot. Looking down at his wet, sun-kissed face, she momentarily lost her train of thought.
He soon set her straight. ‘Your father isn’t worthy to lead a chain gang, never mind a city,’ he replied in succinct, condemning tones. ‘And before I’m done with him, the whole world will know it.’
Despite seeing the evidence for herself two weeks ago at the beach, despite knowing that whatever her father had done to him had been devastating, she staggered back a step at that solid, implacable oath.
He planted his hands on the tiles and heaved himself out of the water. It took every ounce of her self-control not to devour him with hungry eyes. But not looking didn’t mean not feeling. Her insides clenched with the ever-growing hunger she’d been unable to stem since the first night he’d walked into her life. And, with each passing day, she was finding it harder and harder to remain unaffected.
It seemed not even knowing why she was here, or the full extent of how Theo intended to use her to hurt her father, could cause her intense emotional reaction to his proximity to abate.
Which made her ten kinds of a fool, who needed to pull her thoughts together or risk getting hurt all over again.
‘So you don’t deny that you used me as bait to derail my father’s campaign?’
Hazel eyes, devoid of emotion, narrowed on her face. ‘That was one course of action. But you haven’t been labelled a slut. I’ll sue any newspaper that dares to call you that,’ he rasped.
Her laughter scraped her throat. ‘There are several ways to describe someone without using the actual derogatory word, Theo.’
He paused in drying his hair and looked at her. Slowly, he held out his hand. ‘Show me.’
She handed the paper over. He read it tight-jawed. ‘I’ll have them print a retraction.’
Dismay roiled through her stomach, along with a heavy dose of rebellious anger.
‘That’s not the point, though, is it? The harm’s already done. You know this means I’ll have to stop volunteering, don’t you? I can’t bring this sort of attention to the charity.’
He frowned and she caught a look of unease on his face. ‘I’ll take care of this.’
‘Forget it; it’s too late. And congratulations; you’ve achieved your aim. But I won’t be paraded about and pawed in public any more, so if you’re planning on another night on the town you’ll have to do it without me.’
His gaze slowly rose to hers and he resumed rubbing the towel through his hair. ‘Fine. We’ll do something else.’ He threw the paper on the table.
She regarded him suspiciously. ‘Something like what?’