cavemen or something, her eyes flashing sparks of green and gold at him. When his resistance had finally crumbled she’d fitted against him so perfectly, responded to him so passionately that he hadn’t been able to stop. Who knew what might have happened if Jo hadn’t interrupted them?
Alex ground his teeth against the urge to drag Phoebe back into the shadows. There’d be plenty of time for that later. Once he’d achieved what he’d come here to do, he’d take her out to dinner. See where a few more of those kisses might end up and maybe find a new way to get over jet lag.
In the meantime, he told himself, blanking Phoebe from his head and training his full attention on Jo, he had work to do.
‘Surprised to see me?’ he said coolly.
‘Somewhat,’ Jo muttered. ‘But thrilled too, of course,’ she added hastily.
She didn’t look in the slightest bit thrilled. She looked wary, as if she’d been caught red-handed. Which she should, because she had. If he’d vaguely entertained the idea of giving her the benefit of the doubt over the absence of his invitation, it vanished.
‘Of course,’ he replied dryly.
‘How did you find out?’
‘Did you really imagine I wouldn’t?’
‘I had hoped.’
Alex frowned. Since when had she started keeping secrets from him? That rankled almost as much as the fact that she’d deliberately kept him out of the loop.
‘Er, excuse me for interrupting, but would someone mind telling me what’s going on?’ said Phoebe, edging towards Jo in an oddly protective fashion. ‘Because I’m guessing you don’t have an invitation, and, if Jo wants, I can have the bouncers here faster than you can say “gatecrasher.”’
Alex’s gaze swivelled back to his sister. ‘Well?’ he said in a deadly soft voice.
‘There’s no need to call the bouncers.’ Jo pulled her shoulders back and shot him a defiant look. ‘Alex, I’d like you to meet Phoebe Jackson, managing director of Jackson Communications, and my PR.’
Jo’s words hit him with the force of a swinging boom and his blood turned to ice in his veins. He glanced at Phoebe, who was staring at him with a determined tilt of her chin and an arched eyebrow.
This was the woman he’d come to fire? The raven-haired goddess in the tight gold dress, who’d piqued his interest the second he’d laid eyes on her sneaking out of a side door? The woman he’d been imagining naked and warm and writhing in his arms? Something curiously like disappointment walloped him in the solar plexus. Alex rubbed his chest and frowned.
Then suspicion began to prickle at the edges of his brain. If she and his sister were working together had she colluded with her to deliberately keep him out of the proceedings? Even taking into account his natural mistrust of anyone and anything that he personally hadn’t tested to the limit, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
Whether she had or not, dinner was off. With the ruthless control he’d honed over the years, Alex crushed the lingering flickers of desire and stashed any attraction he felt towards Phoebe behind an unbreachable wall of icy neutrality.
Hmm, thought Phoebe, watching his whole body tense and sort of freeze. For some reason the news of her identity hadn’t gone down well at all. Which was odd—she didn’t normally incite such a violent reaction in people.
‘And, Phoebe, this is Alex Gilbert. My brother.’
She was so busy trying to work out what objection he could possibly have to her that she almost missed Jo’s words. But as they filtered into her head Phoebe found herself in the unusual position of being rendered speechless. And then a dozen little facts cascaded into her brain, each one hot on the heels of the other, and she inwardly groaned.
Oh, no.
How typical was that?
Someone really wanted this evening to implode. Because what were the chances that her mysterious, mind-blowingly gorgeous stranger would turn out to be the hotshot venture capitalist who’d injected a huge sum of cash so that Jo could finish and launch her collection? The billionaire who was so busy jetting round the world taking over businesses and entertaining glamorous women that he’d refused the invitation.
She hated it when she was wrong-footed. And not just wrong-footed. Hurled off balance would be a more accurate description. She’d swooned in his arms. Melted against him. Practically devoured him, for heaven’s sake. How mortifyingly inappropriate was that?
‘I should have guessed,’ she said hiding her embarrassment behind a cool façade. ‘The family resemblance is uncanny.’
She might be burning up inside, but Alex didn’t appear to be the slightest bit fazed. ‘Technically I’m her half-brother,’ he said with an impersonal little smile. ‘We shared a mother and we each take after our fathers.’ He held out a hand. Phoebe felt an arc of electricity shoot up her arm when her palm hit his and had to force herself not to snatch it back.
What was he doing here anyway? Jo had said he was quite content to be a silent partner. That he had no interest in what Jo got up to and even less in handbags.
When she’d heard about his supposed lack of fraternal support it hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. After all, when had her siblings ever supported her? At least he’d shown up at the eleventh hour, which was more than she could expect from any member of her family, all of whom thought her choice of career unbelievably frivolous.
Well, frivolous it might be, but it had given her enough experience to handle any situation with sophistication and aplomb. Even one as awkward as this.