The Spanish Consultant (Westerling)

Why not?

Just one evening and she’d make sure that she slept in her own room at the end of the night.

Not wanting to dwell on her decision for too long, she glanced at her watch.

If he was collecting her at seven then she had less than two hours to find something suitable to wear and get ready for the evening, and she hadn’t even had time to unpack yet.

She opened her case and gave a gasp of surprise.

Instead of the businesslike dresses and co-ordinates that she’d packed in blacks and other muted colours, the case contained what appeared to be an entire summer wardrobe in vibrant, eye-catching colours and designs.

At first she thought that there’d been a mix up with her luggage but then she saw the note attached to the inside of the case.

‘Time to stop locking yourself away. Enjoy. Love, Libby and Alex.’

She sat down on the bed with a plop. Somehow Libby had managed to switch the entire contents of her case without her noticing. Instead of her usual safe, understated wardrobe, she was confronted by a rainbow of bright, sexy clothing.

She swallowed as she fingered the first item of clothing that came to hand. It was a strappy top in aquamarine, which came with a silk skirt in myriad complementary colours.

Rummaging further into the case, she found a selection of similar clothes. Short, flirty summer dresses, skirts, T-shirts, even a very brief bikini.

Spreading them out on the bed, Katy stared at them helplessly. They were the sort of clothes she would neve

r have selected for herself. The woman who wore them would be confident of her feminine appeal and happy to flaunt it. But she wasn’t that sort of woman.

Or was she?

Without intending to, she found herself picking up the strappy top and holding it against her as she looked at herself in the mirror. The colour seemed to intensify the blue of her eyes and the soft blush of her complexion.

She smiled, suddenly feeling like a little girl dressing up.

Why shouldn’t she wear it? She wasn’t speaking at the conference. In fact, she wasn’t doing anything except listening to other people and learning. Apart from Jago, no one knew who she was. She didn’t have to create an impression. She didn’t need to worry about being taken seriously.

Telling herself that wanting to look good had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was spending the evening with Jago, she tugged the top over her head and frowned as she noticed the way it clung to the roundness of her breasts. For someone who usually wore loose shirts in nondescript colours it seemed incredibly daring.

Feeling ridiculously light-headed, she pulled on the skirt and rummaged for something to put on her feet, smiling as she found a pair of Libby’s favourite designer shoes at the bottom of the case.

The heels were ridiculous and she’d probably break an ankle, but they matched the outfit perfectly.

Having brushed her hair until it poured down her back in a silken curtain, she risked a glance in the mirror.

She looked…different.

Bold. Feminine.

Sexy.

Not at all the way she’d have chosen to look for an evening out with a man as lethally attractive as Jago Rodriguez.

What was she doing?

Jago strode into the hotel lobby at five minutes to seven and made straight for the lifts.

When he’d written the note he’d been banking on the fact that Katy would be feeling vulnerable in a strange city. He was acutely aware that nothing else would have induced her to spend an evening with him so he was bracing himself for yet another rejection when he rapped on her door.

The door opened and he found himself frozen into immobility.

She looked stunning.