There was no sign of a blonde in a green dress. Of course there wasn’t. But God, now he was seeing her? Smelling her? He might not trust women but he’d always been able to trust his instincts. If those were about to let him down as well, then what was left?
Dan set his jaw and gritted his teeth and wished he could rewind time and choose a different pub to meet Pete, because frankly the last twenty-four hours had been about as far removed from his generally smooth and calm existence as it was possible to be, and despite what he might like to tell himself his nerves were shredded.
So much so that he didn’t know what he would be imagining next. Zoe right behind him? Her voice at his shoulder? Her touch on his arm?
And then he froze all over again because now he could hear her saying his name and feel her touching his arm and even his imagination wasn’t that good. Which meant that he hadn’t been wrong and that for some unfathomable reason she was here.
For a moment Dan felt a burst of satisfaction that his instincts hadn’t failed, a surge of heat at the thought of her standing so close behind him, and an almost irresistible urge to whip round and drag her into his arms, all of which he instantly doused because if it got out who she was then he didn’t stand any chance of being left alone tonight.
So, bracing himself, he turned slowly round and tried not to draw in a sharp breath as the full force of her effect unleashed itself on him.
That flash of green was in fact a tight strapless dress that moulded itself to her and showed off inches of lovely creamy skin. It was a stupendous piece of tailoring, he thought, running his gaze down her. It looked incredible on her but would look even better pooled at her feet in the shadows of his bedroom.
Gritting his teeth against the bolt of desire that rocked through him, Dan dragged his gaze back up but it didn’t alleviate the tension gripping him. Her hair was up, pulled loosely back into some sort of fixture that allowed tendrils to curl around her face, and she was wearing the kind of make-up that made her eyes look all dark and smoky and smouldering and her mouth pale.
Overall it was a good look on her. A sexy look. The kind of look that made him think all she’d have to do was crook her little finger and he’d be right there, willingly going wherever she went and doing whatever she asked of him.
Which was not the idea, he reminded himself.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he muttered, telling himself to focus on what was important.
‘I wanted to talk to you.’
‘About what?’
She glanced around and frowned. ‘Perhaps we could go somewhere a bit more private?’
‘Great idea,’ he murmured, checking that they weren’t attracting attention, then taking her arm and leading her off.
The sooner he got her out of here, the better. The picture of them kissing had obscured her face, otherwise they’d be surrounded right about now, but who knew how long it would be before someone made the connection? In fact he ought to put her straight into a taxi and send her on her way because hadn’t he thought only a little while ago that he didn’t want to have anything to do with her ever again?
But instead he kept her close as he scanned the hotel lobby, not for the exit, but for a dark secluded spot well out of the way of prying eyes. And when he spied a couple of chairs partially hidden by a giant potted palm he didn’t even think about why he wanted to hear what she had to say.
‘This private enough for you?’ he asked, once she’d arranged herself on the wicker chair and he’d flung himself into the one opposite.
‘Perfect,’ she said with a smile that scrambled his brain. ‘Congratulations, by the way,’ she added, leaning forwards, so intoxicatingly close and within reach that for a second he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
‘Thanks,’ he said, eventually coming round to the realisation that she was referring to the award and not his mental descent into chaos. ‘So why are you here, Zoe?’
‘You weren’t taking calls and when I turned up at your office earlier your receptionist said you weren’t seeing visitors.’
‘How did you know where I’d be?’
‘She told me.’
Dan frowned. What the hell? His receptionist had given him a mushy little smile this morning and had muttered something about love’s young dream before he’d put her straight but this kind of interference was going too far. Come Monday morning they’d be having words.
‘Don’t blame her,’ said Zoe, reading his mind with alarming ease. ‘I was rather persistent.’
‘I can imagine,’ he said dryly as the way she’d got him to help her out last night sprang to the front of his mind.
‘It’s a new talent I seem to have developed.’
‘I didn’t see you earlier.’
‘No, well, I’ve only just arrived.’ She turned a little shifty. ‘I’m not exactly on the guest list.’
‘Gatecrashing?’ he said. ‘I’m flattered.’