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Glancing down at the sweet vintage-style dress she was wearing, Daisy frowned. Was it too flippant for a ‘philanthropic benefit luncheon’? Possibly. But there was no time to change. The limousine would be arriving soon and they couldn’t be late. Rollo was one of the guest speakers.

Rollo.

Her muscles clenched, and suddenly she felt as though she were suffocating. Just thinking his name gave her a head rush. But clearly Rollo didn’t feel the same way for despite what had happened in the kitchen, he seemed in no rush whatsoever to consummate their relationship

.

She bit her lip. In fact, the only hint of the passionate moment they’d shared had been later as they made their way towards their respective bedrooms when he’d hesitated, then pulled her against him, kissing her fiercely as if he couldn’t help himself.

Lying alone in her bed, her body hot and twitching beneath the cool sheets, she had finally fallen asleep, her mind aching and exhausted with trying to make sense of his behaviour.

Waking, she had hoped they could talk. But, having both overslept, there had been no time to chat or enjoy a leisurely breakfast. Instead he’d been polite but strangely detached, given how intimate and uninhibited they had been just hours earlier. Remembering just how uninhibited she had been, Daisy felt her cheeks grow hot.

It was all very confusing, and more than a little embarrassing.

Glancing at her reflection, she breathed out slowly. She’d think about it later. Right now she had a job to do, and with one last twirl she turned and walked back into the bedroom.

‘You look nice.’

Her breath jammed in her throat, her eyes widening with shock. Rollo was standing in the doorway to her room, watching her calmly. As usual his expression was utterly indecipherable. He might have just been elected mayor of New York, or just as easily have lost all his money on the stock market. It was impossible to tell.

She stared at him accusingly. ‘You scared me.’

‘Sorry. I did knock.’

‘I didn’t hear you,’ she said quickly. ‘I was just changing my shoes. I thought I’d wear heels.’

‘I like them.’ His eyes dropped to the black patent court heels and then roamed lazily over her dress. ‘I like all of it. You look beautiful.’

Her face grew hot and tight, and she was suddenly unbearably conscious of her body’s response to his precision-cut attention.

‘Good. That’s great,’ she said mechanically and, picking up her phone, she glanced pointedly at the screen. ‘We should go. Otherwise we’ll be late.’

But he didn’t move. Instead he shifted against the door frame, his green eyes fixed on her face.

‘Actually, we won’t. I cancelled.’

It was a first. The first time he’d ever put his private life before work. And certainly the first time a woman had been at the top of his agenda.

What made his behaviour as baffling as it was unsettling was that he hadn’t even planned on doing it. It had just happened.

Sitting at his desk, he’d truly believed he would be attending the luncheon—right up to the moment when his subconscious had overridden his conscious brain and he’d picked up the phone and told his assistant to make his apologies.

But, planned or not, it was clear from his uncharacteristic behaviour that, despite his trying to treat his relationship with Daisy like any other business arrangement, she had brought chaos to his world. And now his life was full of precedents.

Including this self-inflicted discomfort in his groin.

Theoretically, last night had seemed like the perfect opportunity to demonstrate to Daisy that he was the one pulling the strings. Now, though, he could see that his logic might have been flawed. Not only was his body aching with frustration, but the satisfaction he’d felt at having made his point had been pretty much eclipsed by confusion over what it was he’d actually proved to Daisy—or himself.

Glancing up, he found her watching him warily.

‘You don’t seem very pleased,’ he remarked.

Her eyes darted past him. ‘I thought you were giving a speech?’

He shrugged. ‘I was. But there are always far too many speakers at those lunches. Besides...’

He lengthened the word so that it pressed against her skin like a cold knife.


Tags: Louise Fuller Billionaire Romance