A Night, A Consequence, A Vow

‘Oh...’ She nodded slowly. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

‘I have a contact at a top recruitment firm here in London,’ he said. ‘I’ll email his details to you. Once you start the process, keep me updated.’

Feeling off-kilter and not sure why, she simply nodded. ‘All right.’

‘And keep Friday night free for dinner.’

‘Fine—’ Wait. ‘What?’ she said.

‘Dinner,’ he repeated.

She blinked at him. ‘With whom?’

‘With me,’ he said smoothly.

Emily opened her mouth and closed it again.

‘Is that a problem?’

Yes. For too many reasons to list, not least of which was that she was smart enough to know she was out of her depth with this man. He had more sex appeal than anyone she’d ever met. Dealing with him in a professional setting required every ounce of composure she possessed. Outside of the office, she wouldn’t stand a chance of remaining immune.

‘I thought you’d be going back to New York by the end of the week,’ she said.

He gave a slow smile that made her shift in the chair. ‘Eager to be rid of me, Emily?’

‘Of course not.’ But a hot, incriminating blush burned her cheeks. ‘I’m aware you have businesses all over the world, that’s all. I assume you don’t stay in one place for long.’

‘Not unless something holds my interest.’

The heat in her face spread down her neck. He was talking about women. She didn’t know how she knew that, she just did. Maybe it was the look in his eyes—the gleam that was making her feel as if she were the current object of his interest. Which was, she reminded herself, how every playboy operated. They were automatically programmed to flirt. To pull out their charm like a magic wand and zap a woman’s defences. It was why men like Ramon—and her father—were never short of female companionship. Not that she’d seen her father in action with the ladies for herself. But the string of glittering, vacuous women who’d come and gone over the years spoke for itself.

‘I’m not sure dinner is a good idea.’ She shifted again, her skin feeling sticky under her blouse. ‘Yesterday...’ She trailed off, waiting awkwardly for him to catch her drift.

His brows rose. ‘Yesterday...what?’

At the gleam in his eyes, she pressed her lips together. He knew what. She glared at him, her face growing hotter. ‘You almost kissed me.’

As soon as the words came out she wished they hadn’t. Mentioning it gave the impression she’d been thinking about it and that would only feed his ego. Of course, she had been thinking about it, which made everything—this conversation included—ten times more excruciating. She wanted to groan. How had they gone from the serious topic of firing people to this?

Unlike her, Ramon didn’t appear at all discomfited. ‘Which is why we should have dinner.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘We’re business partners now.’ His tone was patient. ‘We have a relationship—’

‘A professional one,’ she cut in.

‘Yes. Which would benefit from putting the tension—and events—of the last two days behind us and starting with a clean slate.’

Meaning, he wouldn’t try to kiss her again? The thought provoked a sinking sensation she couldn’t explain. Ignoring it, she raised her chin in challenge. ‘By having dinner?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s a good way to relax and talk. To get to know one another.’

Put like that, it didn’t sound completely unreasonable. But caution kept her wary. ‘We can talk here. In the office.’

‘Or we can enjoy a meal without work-day interruptions and you can give me an opportunity to show you one of my clubs.’ His lips curved in a half-smile. ‘Perhaps even improve your opinion of them.’

That made her pause—from guilt as much as anything. She’d not been very complimentary about his clubs.