Jaimie: Fire and Ice (The Wilde Sisters 2)

“Ms. …Jaimie.” His tone was low, almost apologetic. “I’m afraid you’ve been misled.”

She felt her stomach drop. Why was she not surprised... except, she wasn’t about to let him know that.

“You’re the one who’s been misled,” she said, with a calmness that surprised even her. “I don’t know

why your—your Mr. Castelianos would tell you that he and I don’t have an appointment when we do. Go back and remind him that I left him two messages and—”

“And he only got them today.”

“Impossible.”

“Completely possible. He’s been…out of town. Even if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have agreed to see you. He isn’t interested in selling this condo. Your Mr. Bengs knew that.”

The man smiled. His smile was as sexy and spectacular as the rest of him—and what did that have to do with anything?”

Jaimie drew herself up, put on her best professional air. Not easy, when your hair was hanging in your face and you were draped in a stranger’s robe, but she did the best she could.

“Look,” she said, trying for the voice of reason, “Mister...Mister Whoever You Are—”

Zach held up his hand. All good things had to come to an end, even games that had provided a pleasant half hour’s diversion at a time when diversion was just what he’d needed.

“Zacharias Castelianos.”

“Yes. If I could just see him, I could clear this up in—”

“You don’t understand. I’m the man you came to see. I’m Zach Castelianos.”

She blinked. “You?”

Zach nodded. “Me.”

“But—but you can’t be!”

His lips twisted. “Want to see my driver’s license? Trust me. I am Zacharias Castelianos.”

He was. She could see it in the way he was looking at her. This was the man Roger Bengs had sent her to see. He’d used her as—as bait. As a lure to draw this man into his net.

Tears rose in her eyes. Goddammit, she hated that about herself! Other women got angry. Her sisters got angry. Emily yelled. Lissa cursed. Why in hell did she cry? Crying was not logical.

“Come on, lady. This isn’t worth crying about.”

“I am not crying!”

Man, why did women say stuff like that? Of course she was crying. They always did. Tears were their weapon of choice.

“So—so what was this? Some kind of game?”

Bingo, except the way she said it made it sound shabby.

“No,” Zach said quickly. “I mean, yeah, maybe, but it had nothing to do with you.”

“It had everything to do with me!”

Her chin came up. She was really into it now, mascara running, lips trembling. She looked vulnerable and beautiful, and what the hell did that have to do with anything? She was trying to make him feel guilty. And, dammit, she was succeeding.

“OK. Maybe I should have said something sooner. But—“

“You’re as bad as that—that pompous bag of hot air I work for!”