She spun on her heel, her anger wobbling. She could understand that. It had to be a bitch dating when you were a walking advert for money and status. But hell, it didn’t make yo-yoing from blondie’s knickers into hers acceptable—not on any level.
‘Poor rich billionaire, can’t go on a real date because the girls are only after one thing. I feel so sad for you.’ Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her eyes dropping to the desk, to the open magazine. ‘The girls you’re used to clearly don’t mind being one of many, or the reputation that comes along with that, but I have no interest whatsoever.’
‘No interest?’ She sensed his smirk and her anger rallied, along with the defiant nub of nerve-endings that tripped out over the memory of that smile. ‘I think that’s not the whole truth.’
Bastard. He knew what he did to her.
But not any more.
He was bad news. Her instincts, the press—hell, even his own sister made that clear. She covered the receiver and let go of a pent-up breath.
Just be profess
ional and leave it at that. You still have a business relationship to maintain.
‘Now that I know who you are,’ she said, her voice surprisingly smooth, ‘I can assure you I have absolutely no interest.’
He chuckled, the sound teasing her down the phone and making her hand clutch it tighter.
Don’t turn me on, don’t...
‘Shall we put that to the test?’
What?
‘No, Mr Lazenby,’ she said, her voice pitched on panic, and something else—blasted excitement. ‘We shall not put it to the test.’
Her eyes darted around her office, too many memories triggering feelings that told her very much where that test would end up.
The background noise down the line fell away, as though he’d entered a quiet building, and he said softly, ‘You sure about that?’
A thrill trickled through her spine.
Are you sure about that?
She was in trouble. She pinned her sights on the images. The one taken just yesterday morning as the couple left the hotel together, the look of satisfaction on his face and the haughty one on blondie. ‘Positive,’ she thrust out. ‘I will associate with you as a client but that’s as far as this goes.’
‘Really?’ She heard a familiar ping down the phone—a lift? Her lift?
No, he wouldn’t be...
She strode to her office door, swinging it open and spearing the lift. ‘Where are you?’
The phone cut off and she knew the answer, even before the lit display above the lift started to announce its movement.
Oh, fuck.
* * *
Daniel pocketed his phone and ignored the weird rate of his pulse. He never got excited about anything. Hell, he got turned on, had great sex, but genuinely getting excited about something, it just wasn’t him. Not even the buzz of a successful deal could trump this.
But he was excited to see her.
Or was it actually nerves?
He had to be honest, he’d never failed in getting what he wanted before. Yes, they were on rocky ground but they worked too well together to let this get in the way. Surely she’d see that.
He ran a finger through the collar of his shirt and watched the lift count its ascent.