CHAPTER FIVE
UGH. WHAT WAS that noise? Phoebe burrowed beneath her duvet and dragged a pillow over her ear while throwing an arm out and taking a swipe in the general direction of her alarm clock. The muffled clatter as it hit the floor and the familiar sound of batteries rolling around the floor-boards filtered into her sleep-sodden head. She waited for a second, and then as heavenly silence reigned snuggled down and drifted back into blissful unconsciousness.
Until the shrill ringing started up again.
It hadn’t been the alarm clock. Even in her dopey state she could work that one out. She sat up and clamped her hands over her ears but it was no good. Someone was sitting on her doorbell and clearly had little intention of going away.
With a groan, Phoebe untangled herself from the bedclothes and pushed her eye mask onto the top of her head. She staggered to her feet and stumbled to the window. Lifting the sash, she stuck her head out and yelled, ‘All right, I’m coming.’
To her intense relief, the infernal racket stopped instantly. She dragged on a silk dressing gown and made her way downstairs, grumbling with every step she took.
Just wait, she thought crossly, marching towards the front door. Whoever was calling at this ungodly hour deserved everything that was coming to them.
‘What?’ she said heatedly, flinging open the door and getting ready to give the postman a piece of her mind.
But as she glared at the figure standing on her doorstep Phoebe froze. It wasn’t the postman. Or the plumber. Or any one of the other possibilities that had vaguely crossed her mind.
It was Alex. Looking good enough to eat in faded jeans and a polo shirt, and a darn sight more together than she was.
‘Good morning, Phoebe.’
The bright sunlight burned her retinas and her eyes watered. This really wasn’t fair. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she stared up at him. ‘Uh, morning.’
Alex’s leisurely gaze travelled over her and Phoebe bristled at the faint smile that curved his lips. He could laugh all he wanted; he was the one who’d turned up unannounced. If he didn’t approve of the state he found her in, he only had himself to blame. ‘Can I come in?’
No was the answer on the tip of her tongue. Even though Phoebe suspected she couldn’t sink any lower in Alex’s estimations, she still had her vanity. She wanted to tell him to go away and come back in an hour. Her current outfit didn’t provide much in the way of a defence against a man like him and her hair could probably do with a brush. But as he was already stepping forward there was little she could do to stop him, short of shoving him out and slamming the door behind him, and her head hurt too much for that kind of effort.
‘Please do.’
Alex crossed the threshold into the hallway and Phoebe plastered herself against the wall in an attempt to prevent any kind of contact. Her hall wasn’t small but he managed to fill it, and even though he hadn’t brushed against her her treacherous body responded as if he had. A rush of heat shot through her and pooled at the juncture of her thighs. Beneath the flimsy layers she could feel her nipples stiffening and with a scowl she wrapped her dressing gown tightly around her and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘The kitchen’s straight on.’
Phoebe followed him into her kitchen, told herself to ignore the way his T-shirt highlighted the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles beneath, and set about making coffee.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said, sticking her head in a cupboard and rummaging around for a bag of beans. ‘I didn’t expect to see you until this evening.’
‘I called, but you didn’t answer.’
Phoebe pulled out the beans and a cafetiere and shot him an accusatory glare. ‘I was asleep.’
He leaned against the counter and looked her up and down again so thoroughly that Phoebe felt as if he’d stripped her naked. ‘So I can see. Out partying?’
She wished. Phoebe’s hackles shot up. ‘I was up until five researching your guests,’ she said with as much indignation as she could muster. The last couple of hours of research she’d dedicated to checking him out, but he didn’t need to know that.
‘Have you come up with a plan?’
‘I have.’
‘What is it?’
‘Oh, no, I’m not telling you that.’
‘Why not?’
‘You might sabotage it.’
‘I’m not that ruthless.’
‘Says the man who’d practically blackmailed me into this weekend.’