He’d known she’d be the type to still be at work; his instinct hadn’t let him down there. He just hoped he hadn’t got the strength of her attraction wrong too.
The doors opened and there she was, arms crossed over her middle, face like thunder, and he couldn’t help the grin that formed, or the flutter that happened somewhere deep inside. She was damn sexy when she was mad.
‘This place needs new security,’ she blurted. ‘We’re closed.’
‘You’re still here,’ he said, stepping out of the lift.
‘Not for long.’ She spun on her heel and strode for her office, her entire body swaying provocatively and tugging at his groin. Kristus, she killed him.
‘Can we talk, please?’ He moved after her. ‘Just let me apologise?’
She sent him a look over her shoulder. ‘I’d rather you left.’
She reached her desk and grabbed up her jacket, rounding on him to shrug it on, the move parting her blouse far more than his body could take. ‘An apology isn’t going to change anything.’
‘It’ll make me feel better.’
‘Consider your apology delivered, now go.’
She swung her bag over her shoulder and bent to switch off the lamp upon her desk. His gaze fell to the glass tabletop and with it came a flood of memories, a rush of blood directly south.
‘I’ll call your sister tomorrow, once I’ve arranged the next set of viewings.’
He barely heard her; his need to have her accept his apology and get to where they’d been less than twenty-four hours ago had his mind racing with words, none of which seemed good enough.
She strode for the door, her hand closing around its edge, and then she looked to him pointedly. ‘Now if you’ll...’
Piss off, her eyes silently finished, their spark making him grin all over again as he rounded to face her. ‘You know, you’re sexy when you’re angry.’
He saw her throat bob, her eyelids flickering as her gaze fell to his mouth, the move fleeting but enough.
‘Don’t say things like that.’
Her voice had lost its force, and its whisper-like quality was urging him on. ‘Why?’
‘It’s not appropriate.’ She looked away, fixating on the exit. ‘Now please, can we leave? I don’t need you here, dragging the whole paparazzi on your tail and stirring up trouble that my business could do without.’
His shoulders relaxed, their previous tension surprising him. ‘Is that what has you so worried?’
‘One of many things.’
‘Well, let me put your mind at rest,’ he assured her. ‘I’m alone, no one’s followed me, not tonight.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ she said, her eyes coming back to him and flashing with something akin to pain. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you loved nothing more than creating scenes for them to exploit.’
‘They can be relentless.’
‘But not tonight, hey?’ She looked hurt as she threw the accusation at him. ‘Can’t say I blame them. I’m hardly your type.’
Her words pierced him, resonating with the same argument he’d had a thousand times over, and then her eyes flicked to the desk and for the first time he saw the magazine laid out there.
‘Judging by that double-page spread, you have quite the rep,’ she continued, ‘and I don’t want that anywhere near me.’
She wasn’t worried about her business. If she truly knew all there was to know about him, she would know her association with him would bring people flocking.
No, this was personal, and it was time he set the record straight. Time she understood who he was, accepted it and came to bed with him, her eyes open.
‘You’d be happy never to see me again?’