She opened her mouth to tell him that she was not—absolutely, one hundred per cent not—going to see him again and looked into the liquid gold of his eyes. Last week, and all the weeks before it after she’d finished with Giles, had been the same. Work, the odd evening out with the girls, nights when she’d washed her hair and done her nails or watched the latest DVD with Jennie or Susan if they’d been in. Her choice, admittedly. She’d been asked out by men on several occasions but had politely declined. And it wasn’t that Zac had persisted, not really. From the moment she’d seen him there had been sparks of electricity in the air.
It was a relief to admit it at last.
‘So,’ he drawled lazily as the taxi drew into the mews. ‘How about putting me to the test tomorrow night? Dinner again?’
‘Tomorrow?’ Rachel discovere
d it was possible to feel flattered and harassed at the same time.
His smile deepened. ‘Why not?’
She gave him a long, silent look as the taxi pulled to a halt outside her door. ‘You don’t give up easily, do you?’
He opened the car door and exited the vehicle, helping her out and then pulling her into the circle of his arms as he said, ‘I never give up. The words don’t feature in my psyche.’
A red light was flashing bright and strong in the back of her mind but she was dealing with the sensations caused by being in his arms and couldn’t cope with anything else. She waited for the kiss she was sure was coming and felt disappointment out of all proportion when he gently guided her to the doorstep and dropped a light kiss on her nose.
‘Goodnight, Rachel,’ he said softly. ‘Sweet dreams.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him she wouldn’t get a lot of sleep that night, that she was going to be working half of it as it was. But somehow she found she didn’t want to spoil the moment. Instead, she took her briefcase from him and watched him walk back to the taxi.
He paused with his hand on the door, turning to look back at her as she stood motionless in the shadows. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow—that’ll give you time to get home and change into something less formal,’ he said quietly. ‘I thought we’d go somewhere to eat that has a dance floor.’
Hang on a minute, that was too much like a proper date. Rachel opened her mouth to protest but he’d slid into the taxi on the last words, shutting the door firmly behind him. The next moment the vehicle had drawn away.
She stood for some moments staring after the taxi, even when it had disappeared. She was going to regret this. Something deep inside told her dealing with Giles had been a piece of cake compared to coping with Zac Lawson. So why had she agreed to have dinner with him again tomorrow?
The answer did nothing to reassure her. Because every fibre of her being wanted to.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHEN her alarm woke her the next morning after only three hours’ sleep, Rachel glanced across the room to where Jennie was snuggled under the covers of her own bed. As she did so, her friend groaned the words she used every morning. ‘It can’t be time to get up yet.’
‘’Fraid so.’ She was dreading facing Jennie this morning. When she’d entered the house last night both Jennie and Susan had gone to bed, and at four in the morning, when she’d finally finished the report to her satisfaction and crept into the room she shared with Jennie, her friend hadn’t woken. She had been so tired she’d fallen asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, but now she was awake, the worry that had troubled her last night and made the report even more difficult to formulate was at the forefront of her mind.
As Jennie sat up in bed, pushing her mass of shining black hair out of her eyes, Rachel said quickly, ‘Jen, I’m sorry about Zac. I didn’t expect or look for it, I promise you.’
‘What?’ Jennie yawned sleepily. ‘Oh, Zac. Hey, it’s not your fault if he fancies you rather than me. Did you have a nice time?’ she added on another jaw-breaking yawn.
This was making her feel worse. ‘It was OK,’ she said warily. ‘The meal was nice and the restaurant was fabulous.’
‘Seeing him again?’ Jennie swung her feet out of bed, standing and stretching before padding over to Rachel’s bed and plumping down at the end of it. ‘He’s too yummy not to, surely?’
‘Uh-huh. Tonight, actually. He—he doesn’t like eating alone,’ she finished lamely. ‘That’s all there is to it.’
Jennie sat up straighter. ‘Tonight? He’s a fast worker, I’ll give him that. Must be in the family genes.’ She giggled.
‘Jen, I really am sorry, I mean that.’
‘Don’t be.’ Jennie became serious all at once. ‘Susan and I were saying last night it’s about time you got into the stream again and the perfect person to get your feet wet with is Zac. He can wine and dine you and you can have fun without worrying that it’s going to get heavy with him only being around for three weeks. Just enjoy yourself, Cinders. Heaven knows, you deserve a break after Rat Face.’ Rat Face was her friends’ name for Giles. ‘Anyway, to be perfectly honest, if Zac had fancied me it would have been a complication. There’s a guy from one of the fashion houses who’s asked me out and he’s gorgeous, I’ve had my eye on him for a while.’
Rachel knew Jennie was telling the truth; if nothing else, her friend was transparently honest. Feeling better, she said, ‘What’s he like?’ knowing such a prompt would keep Jennie going all through breakfast, thereby deflecting any question about her evening with Zac. For some reason she didn’t want to talk about it, not even to Jennie and Susan, possibly because she didn’t know how she felt. Or maybe because she did.
The strategy worked, and by the time the three women left the flat Rachel’s mind was at rest about Jennie. Susan had asked casually if she’d had a nice time the night before but that was all, and even when Jennie had finished waxing lyrical about the amazing Keir, the conversation hadn’t turned to Zac.
Rachel turned and looked after her two friends, whose work places were in the opposite direction from hers. Come to think of it, she thought with a frown, they had both shown a remarkable lack of nosiness, which was totally uncharacteristic and could only mean they’d agreed to tread softly-softly. Which was nice of them—in a way—but made her feel slightly exasperated too because she didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves as though she was some kind of victim. Mind you, she wouldn’t have wanted to talk about Zac if they had asked…
Deciding she was in danger of becoming as nutty as a fruit cake, she walked swiftly on, turning her mind to the papers she had worked on half the night and resolutely putting all thoughts of Zac Lawson out of her head. Nevertheless, she had decided that tonight would be the last time she would agree to see him. In the cold light of day she knew it would be madness to do anything else.