He made an exaggerated effort to look around the room.
“Is this place lacking? Hell, Addy. Upgrade my sheets if they’re not to your liking.”
“I’m sure your sheets are fine.” She set aside her plate and made a grab for her water, taking a long swallow.
He watched the narrow column of her throat and wondered how he’d ever look at her in a purely friendly way again. Just thinking about her under his sheets was enough to spike the temperature in the room. To distract himself from thoughts of her wrapped in Egyptian cotton, he stood, stalking around the table to sit on the ottoman right in front of her, turning his back on the game.
“But?” he prompted, an edge in his voice from the pent-up frustration of this day with her.
“But no matter how lovely your home is, I’d rather be close to my own things. I don’t see the benefit of being here.”
“The benefit is the complete privacy as well as safety, since the family compound is absolutely secure. No media gets through the front gate.” He knew she valued privacy as much as he did. This angle would be more effective than telling her the truth—that he wanted her close at all times so that he would never miss an opportunity to push his agenda over the next four weeks. “You know as well as I do that public interest in our engagement will be high, especially after how thoroughly the press covered my split with Valentina.”
“So I hide out here because of a manipulative ex-lover?” Her expression went stony. “I have business to conduct.”
“Use my office,” he offered, hitting the button to mute the sound on the television. “The facilities are excellent.”
She frowned. “I do not like being put in this position.”
He hoped that meant she was done arguing. He couldn’t remember ever arguing with Adelaide before today—or at least not since she’d worked for him. “I don’t like you leaving, but I’m trying to find a workable solution.”
She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again.
“What?” he prodded her, wanting to know what was going on in her head.
“I’m not looking forward to being in the public spotlight with you.”
“You’ve been there a million times.” He knew because he usually met her gaze a few times during his press conferences, her hazel eyes wordlessly communicating to him if he was staying on track or not.
“Not in a romantic way.” She shook her head, a few tendrils of dark hair sliding loose from the haphazard knot she’d created. “We’ve got the Brighter NOLA fund-raiser coming up, and no matter what you say about how convincing I’ll be as your fiancée, I definitely don’t look the part.”
“Because of all the hair tossing and slinky gowns.” That comment of hers still burned. He didn’t care for that view of himself. “I believe we’ve covered that. And if you’re correct that I’ve become too predictable in my dating choices, I’m glad for the chance to shake up public perceptions.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest you only dated women for their looks.” She bit her lip. “The sad truth of the matter is a far more practical concern. I have the wardrobe of an assistant. Not a fiancée.”
He tried to hide his grin and failed. “So you’re saying we actually need the slinky gowns to pull this off?”
“You don’t have to look so damn smug about it,” she fired back, making him realize how much he’d missed their friendship.
He held up both hands to show his surrender. “No smugness intended. But I sure don’t have time to dress shop this week, Addy, what with our first opponent being the defending National Conference champions and all.”
“Wiseass,” she chided, shaking her head so that the pencil holding the knot in her hair slipped. She reached up to grab it as the dark mass fell around her shoulders.
He’d seen that move before in private moments with her. Never had it made his mouth water. Or kicked his lust into a full-throttle roar.
Some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because the hint of a smile she’d been wearing suddenly fled. Pupils dilating, she stood up fast, letting go of her hair and setting aside the pencil.
“I’ll figure something out.” She stared down at him, her face bathed in the blue glow from the television playing silently in the background, her delicate curves visible through the thin fabric of his too-big T-shirt. “With the wardrobe and with my business. I’ll use your office and stay here. It’s just for four weeks anyway.”