When she finally looked back at him, there was a fire in her eyes that lasered straight through him. ‘Well, I am thrilled you know what’s best for me—it certainly saves me the bother of having to think for myself.’ Then she strolled to the door, yanked it open and walked out, slamming the door behind her with a loud, ‘You, Moncada, are an eejit.’
* * *
Aislin stormed all the way down the corridor to the lift and punched the button.
Heavy footsteps approached as she waited impatiently for it to reach her but she refused to acknowledge him, even when he stood beside her.
‘Have you calmed down?’
‘No.’ She folded her arms tightly across her chest lest she punched him in the face or, worse, hooked them around his neck and kissed him.
Her awareness of Dante was so acute it muffled her indignant anger at his apology and patronising attempts to explain himself.
Had she not spent almost four days telling herself all the reasons she had to keep her desire for him locked away? she fumed.
But that had been before he’d kissed her and sent sensation flowing through her she had never imagined could exist, and before he’d said beautiful things about her she’d never been told before and then listed all the reasons why those beautiful things didn’t count for jack.
That he might very well accuse her of double standards if he could read her thoughts about him these past few days only added an extra dose of frustrated turmoil to the turbulent mix e
ating at her.
‘I’ve got your suitcase.’
She’d forgotten all about it.
She gave him grudging thanks.
‘Am I right thinking “an eejit” is the same thing as an idiot?’
Was that amusement she detected in his voice? She refused to look at him to see.
‘Yes, it is, and you, sir, are a prime example of one.’
There was a loud ping and the lift door opened.
They stepped inside and, as the door closed, she rounded on him. ‘Right, Moncada, let’s get a few things straight. You might be as sexy as the devil but your reputation precedes you—see? I’d already worked that out for myself because, sir, I am not an eejit.’
‘What’s with all the sirs?’
‘They’re substitutes for the names I really want to call you.’ The amusement dancing in the eyes she now allowed herself to look into only made her add a few more to the choice list of them.
‘Names worse than eejit?’
‘Yes, sir, much worse, and I would be grateful if you would shut up so I can shout at you and get this off my chest. I resent being told what is and is not good for me. I am not a child. If I want to have an affair with you, then I jolly well will, and I would go into it with my eyes open knowing perfectly well that it would never amount to anything, and not just because you are, by your own admission, not one for anything longer term than a bluebottle’s lifespan. Affairs are short-term flings, they are not a relationship. It is an insult that you think I would not know the difference.’
The lift reached the ground floor. The door opened. They both ignored it.
‘I never said you didn’t know the difference.’
‘You implied it. All this, “I wouldn’t be good for you. I only have affairs with sophisticated women who are happy to have the end date of the relationship set before it starts”,’ she mimicked.
‘I never said that either!’
‘Not in so many words but that was the gist of it. Well, sir, I do know the difference between an affair and a relationship, and I also know a relationship between us is a nonstarter. My life is in Ireland with my family. Your life, when you’re not travelling all over the place, is in Sicily. Never minding all the stuff with our shared sister, we are very different people culturally and morally, so why you think I would even entertain a full-blown relationship with you is, sir, an insult.’
‘Have you finished?’
‘No, I have not.’ Frustrated beyond comprehension, and suddenly desperate to wipe the amusement from his face, she grabbed at his leather jacket to yank him to her and pressed her mouth tightly to his.