‘You’ve been busy,’ Alejandro called as he stopped by the door of the box-filled room two hours later.
Kitty glared at him from where she stood drowning in boxes, overwhelmed by the enormity of all the stuff she had to process. She’d made the mistake of opening too many too soon.
Alejandro’s mouth twitched, as if he was suppressing a laugh at her expense. ‘Did you have fun shopping?’
‘Oh, yes, I spent all your money,’ she lied, turning on a brilliant, totally fake smile.
‘Well done.’ He nodded approvingly. ‘I bet that took some doing.’
She sighed and examined her fingernails in mock boredom. ‘Not really—a handful of dresses, a few pairs of shoes...’ she shrugged ‘...and poof, all the money was gone.’
‘Wonderful. You can leave the receipts on the desk in the library for me.’ He leaned against the doorjamb and frowned at her black trousers. ‘Yet you’re not ready to go out?’
‘We’re going out?’ She glanced at the mass of boxes blocking her escape from the room. Her nerves prickled. She was going to have to wear one of those dresses now. She was going to have to live up to the pretence. And she was going to have to look at him across the table... He was too handsome. Too assured. Too damn knowing.
She’d be better off buried in the boxes here.
‘Are you not hungry?’ Alejandro was feeling extremely hungry and not just for food. She looked beautiful standing there glaring back at him with a raft of emotions flickering across her striking features. ‘I believe it’s a good restaurant.’
And they needed to get there soon, before he threw all caution to the wind and tried to seduce her here and now.
‘Don’t you ever just eat at home?’ Her glare became less defensive and more curious.
‘Why would I?’ He didn’t enjoy cooking for himself. Usually he went straight to a restaurant from the office. ‘I enjoy socialising with lots of people.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded and seemed to think about it for a moment. ‘So you’re aware of how boring your own company is.’
He was stunned into silence briefly, but then laughed grudgingly. ‘You witch.’
Her smile of acknowledgement lit up her whole face and made him want to step nearer and feel the warmth of it on his skin. But at the same time he felt compelled to get a dig in.
‘So you stay home and cook something gourmet for yourself every night?’ he challenged her.
Her smile actually deepened. ‘I cook instant noodles every night.’
He grimaced and didn’t bother commenting.
‘I add fresh vegetables,’ she added piously.
‘As if that makes it any better.’
‘I’m a starving artist,’ she said loftily. ‘What did you expect me to eat?’
‘Well, tonight you can eat like a queen. If you’ll only hurry up and get ready,’ he groaned.
‘Okay, darling, I won’t be long.’
He watched her navigate the cardboard obstacles with an impressively swift glide, and walk past him and out of the room with a small toss of her head. Shaking his own, he walked down to the library, pulling his phone from his pocket to check on any mail that might have arrived in the thirty minutes since he’d left the office. He might as well do some more work while he waited. But, to his surprise, it was less than fifteen minutes before she cleared her throat.
He looked up to the doorway and promptly forgot his own name, let alone what it was he’d been writing. ‘You can spend every last cent of mine if you’re going to end up looking like that.’
Her death stare felled him.
‘I’m sensing a colour theme.’ He noted the black. Again. He’d not seen her in anything else so far. Black clothes that clung, but covered up almost all of her pale, pale skin. His skin tightened. He was looking forward to finally getting a proper glimpse of her.
‘I’m grieving the loss of my freedom,’ she drawled. ‘Hence the mourning outfits.’
He laughed appreciatively. ‘It’s so hard for you, isn’t it? Losing the family home.’
‘The long goodbye to the family fine china,’ she mused. ‘It is a burden.’
‘Poor baby, the silver spoon’s been snatched from you.’
He wasn’t going to make it to the damn restaurant if she kept looking at him like that. He was used to dating very beautiful, perfectly proportioned women, but he’d found none as attractive as he found Catriona right now, with her angular defiance and glittering eyes and her chin jutting in the air. He laughed, more to expend some of the energy coiling inside him than from genuine amusement.
In some ways, his reaction to her wasn’t funny at all. He’d been so looking forward to seeing what she had in store for him that he’d actually left work a fraction early because he couldn’t wait any longer to find out. It was the first time he’d ever done that for a woman. He’d wanted to check she was still there. Catriona Parkes-Wilson wasn’t quite as predictable as all that. But, given he’d instructed Paolo to keep his eye on her, he knew she hadn’t left the house again since returning from the epic shopping spree. He also knew exactly how much she’d spent and had to admit it had surprised him. But nothing about Catriona was quite as it seemed and he was interested to see how she was going to play this out.
‘Shall we go?’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
He named a new restaurant that—according to his PA—had a waiting list of months.
‘There’ll be celebrities there.’ She frowned and glanced down at her dress.
‘Are you going to ask for
their autographs?’
A giggle burbled out of her.
‘You look amazing,’ he assured her briefly. ‘We need to leave. Now.’
Now or never. Fortunately, Paolo was waiting with the engine running.
‘You can’t drive yourself anywhere?’ she asked pointedly as he held the door for her.
‘Why would I when I can hold hands with you in the back seat instead?’ he answered, sliding in after her.
He picked up her hand and felt her curl it into a fist. His sensual awareness was stronger now he knew how good she felt pressed against him. Hell, he wanted that again. Now. The energy between them crackled in the air in the confined space. It took all his willpower not to pull her right into his arms and kiss her into saying yes. Instead, he made himself stay a safe distance away. He could stay in control of this. He would always stay in control.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ he said smoothly as he led her to the two vacant seats his colleagues had left in the middle of the large table at the rear of the restaurant. ‘I hope you’ve gone ahead and ordered.’
Catriona’s hand tightened on his. ‘You promised no parties,’ she whispered as she sat in the seat next to him.
‘This isn’t a party. This is dinner.’ He released her to hold her chair out for her.
‘It’s a dinner party,’ she whispered, pausing. ‘There are like...’ she glanced around the table ‘...fifteen people here.’
Wasn’t that the point of dinner? To socialise? He liked being around people, but she didn’t seem comfortable. He took a closer look at her face. ‘You okay?’
‘I’ll just fake it till I make it,’ she muttered as she glanced again at everyone at the table before sitting down.
He wasn’t even sure he was supposed to hear that little quip, but the honesty underlying it smote him. A small surge of protectiveness made him reach out to clasp her hand in his again as they sat side by side. Did she honestly doubt how stunning she was? Was she really intimidated by these others present?
Or was it that she’d wanted to dine alone with him tonight? His pulse struck an irregular beat. He couldn’t remember when he’d last dined alone with a woman. Always he had extras with him—work colleagues and acquaintances, or another couple of women, friends of his latest lover. He liked being surrounded by busy, happy people. That was normal, right? And there was safety in numbers.