There was another moment of profound silence. She burned with a horrible mix of embarrassment, nerves and resentment. She hated how calm and in control he was. Even when she’d shouted at him he hadn’t lost his ice-cool composure.
‘You don’t like uncertainty?’ He watched her steadily.
‘I don’t like being kept waiting.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘I’m taking the time to think.’
‘Does it usually take you this long?’ She didn’t mean to be rude, but it surprised her. He was incredibly successful and she bet he hadn’t become so by mulling over trivial decisions about low-level staff.
But wasn’t she was doing him a disservice? He’d already stood up to those horrible, grasping relatives before she’d even arrived and he’d had no hesitation in showing them the door. She was finally about to offer a shamefaced, belated apology when he spoke.
‘I’ve found that giving a problem my full consideration, rather than making a snap judgment, results in a better night’s sleep for me.’ He offered the slightest sarcastic curve to his lips in lieu of an actual smile.
She’d made a snap judgment that he was Harold’s nephew, and this was an unsubtle rebuke for that. Yet it wasn’t his reprimand that bothered her. It was another ripple of that forbidden feeling slithering down her spine. She did not need to be thinking about sleeping—specifically him sleeping—at this moment. And she did not need to be wondering what he’d look like with an actual, genuine smile on his face when he was already this attractive.
He studied her for another long moment and his gaze lowered to the resting creature in her arms. ‘The dog is old,’ he said bluntly.
‘So that means we should just put him down?’ she asked scornfully, her outrage torched again. The debate was on and she was fighting for Toby.
‘He’ll miss his owner,’ Leon answered with surprising softness. ‘He’ll fret.’
The note of compassion from him oddly made her more uncomfortable.
‘So we find him someone who can be with him all the time so he has the companionship he needs while he grieves.’
He reached out and petted the dog’s head gently. Ettie froze, stunned by the illicit surge in her body at his closeness...the craving.
‘He can’t go to a shelter,’ she added.
She couldn’t help staring at Leon. She’d never seen someone as handsome, or as serious, and suddenly he felt more of a danger to her than when she’d thought him to be a heartless brute or when she’d thought he was going to fire her. The unaccustomed response within her to his fierce masculinity was shocking.
She whipped up her resistance. She didn’t want to like him. Of all the moments for her stagnant sensuality to spark up...
‘Would you take him?’ Curiosity burned in his eyes.
‘I would,’ she answered without hesitation. ‘Except I’m at work all hours and he’d be lonely. And I’m not allowed pets in my building.’
‘Pets aren’t allowed in these apartments either,’ he muttered. ‘Isn’t that the rule the previous owner implemented?’
‘No resident ever minded Toby. He’s lovely and he was around before that petty rule came into force.’ She looked down at the dog protectively. She’d disliked that owner who’d wanted to charge more but offer less. He’d employed the awful George to enforce the ‘new way’—most of which involved paying the staff less for more onerous rules and rosters, which had led to that festering resentment and feeling as if they couldn’t be trusted. Ironically, the rumour was that the absent owner had got into money trouble...and now she was faced with this guy.
‘You aided and abetted Mr Clarke in keeping Toby a secret, didn’t you?’
They all had. But Ettie lifted her chin; she wasn’t about to offer excuses or drag her friends under with her. ‘Are you going to sack me for it?’
He remained impassive but she sensed his assessment. And his judgment. ‘That depends. What other rules do you break?’
‘Just the stupid ones.’
He watched, waiting for her to expand on her answer, but she refused. She was not going to desperately fill the awkward silence he was deliberately leaving. And she was not going to let his stunning looks have a stupefying effect on her brain any longer either. She was here for Toby—for the last thing she could do for old Harold Clarke.
‘He needs to be in a familiar environment,’ she said. ‘Given he’s not a nuisance to anyone, you should allow Toby to remain in Cavendish House, don’t you think?’ she asked with more defiance than deference in her voice.
Because more than anger bubbled within her at his silent appraisal and that stern stare beneath those slightly pulled strong eyebrows.
She tore her gaze from him and desperately looked around Harold’s apartment to remind herself of her mission. The old man had been their longest resident. He’d mostly kept to himself, but he’d been kind and his dog had been his world. He’d protected the vulnerable even when he was vulnerable himself. ‘We owe it to Harold to take care of Toby.’
‘We?’
‘Yes.’ She lifted her chin pointedly and looked back at him. ‘Why can’t you take him?’ she challenged directly.
There was another moment of total silence, but as she gazed into his eyes, the amber light within them flared. ‘No reason that I can see,’ he muttered.
She blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘Toby will move to my penthouse. You’ll take him for fresh air.’
Her jaw dropped. He wanted her to go to his penthouse? ‘You want him to sleep in your apartment?’
‘It’s a temporary arrangement,’ he said brusquely. ‘On the condition that you walk him. You feed him. I do nothing but provide the space.’
The sizzle she felt was just her, right? She gave herself a mental shake. Just because he was insanely good-looking didn’t mean she had to turn into a twittering ditz. She’d pull herself together and get the job done. ‘You want me to—’
‘Morning and night obviously. Yes.’ He turned that cool demeanour on her and dared her to object.
Ettie was so stunned, she couldn’t help questioning him. ‘Why can’t you walk him?’
The coldness that entered his expression now stunned her. ‘We’ll find a more permanent solution in a few days. In the meantime, there’ll be no disturbance to the other residents.’
She was shocked. ‘You really want me to—’
‘Do I really need to repeat myself?’
‘No. Of course not.’ She stilled, annoyed with his superciliousness. Usually she’d say ‘sir’, but she was struggling to suppress her rebellion and tell this guy what for again. He couldn’t walk or feed the dog himself? Was he for real?
And yet he’d just offered up his own space to ensure Toby’s safety and security, so that the vulnerable little dog could stay.
* * *
What the hell had forced that foolish suggestion from him? Leon Kariakis smothered his growl and gritted his teeth. He didn’t want anything to do with the dog. The ancient, arthritic creature was most probably incontinent and most definitely going to be a pain. Except he was a sweet-looking thing with the saddest eyes Leon had ever seen, and there was no way he could resist reaching out again to soothe the boy with a gentle pat. As he pulled back, he inadvertently brushed his fingers on Antoinette’s arm. He glanced up to her face. Sea-green, luminous, emotion-drenched eyes glared back at him.
Why was she looking so angry again now?
He was the one who ought to be put out. And truthfully he was still oddly angered by her assumption he was the selfish bastard who’d issued the instruction to destroy the innocent creature. Somehow he wanted to make her pay for the conclusion she’d so swiftly, and unjustly, leapt to.
Not somehow.
His body knew exactly how he wanted her to pay. He wanted her to keep looking at him with those overly emotional green eyes, b
ut not with anger and judgment. He wanted to see hunger and willingness. Desire.
Basic instinct roared. Because he knew it was there within her too. She’d studied him anew once she’d realised her error. And she’d responded on the same basic level as he had—the sparkle of awareness in her eyes, the flush in her face, had given her away.
He wanted her beneath and about him. His primal response to her passion shocked him. He wanted her in the most animal, basic of ways.