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Swallowing hard, I brush my dress down and ruffle my hair, then start towards his office, speaking quiet words of encouragement to myself. The huge, intricately engraved double doors look threatening when I reach them, and my eyes fall to the handle as my brain gently encourages me to enter. I start breathing regulating exercises, brush my dress down again, fix my hair again, and repeat my encouraging words to myself.
Then I square my shoulders and ring the bell before taking the handle and pushing my way into his office. My eyes find him immediately, standing behind his desk. He’s changed out of his sweatpants and T-shirt and is now looking impeccable in a grey three-piece suit. His hair is combed neatly to the side, and . . . oh fuck me, his glasses. I sway on the spot and my eyes scan his tall physique, my heart kicking at the sight of him. Now that I have a good idea of what he’s capable of, too, I feel conquered by him, without really being conquered at all. It was, after all, just a kiss.
A smouldering kiss. A kiss that made me dizzy. I’m certain there was affection there somewhere – somewhere amid the hair tugging and demands to shut the fuck up.
He’s on the phone, but he gives me a subtle smile as he stares at me, listening intently. ‘I’ve been busy. Apologies,’ he says, keeping his eyes on me. I shut the door, and he points to a chair opposite his desk, inviting me to sit with an encouraging nod. ‘I have it here waiting. We’ll discuss money at the viewing.’ He puts his palm over the receiver and lifts his chin up. ‘You okay?’ he whispers, regarding me carefully. He’s worried.
My head begins to bob a bit too much, my instincts telling me to assure him that I’m fine. ‘I can go.’ I point over my shoulder.
He holds his finger up and scowls down the line. ‘There will be no negotiation. Sotheby’s are keen to hold the sale, and I’m not averse to giving it to them. Let’s not waste each other’s time. It’s a Louis the fourteenth table. It’s solid walnut with marquetry, and the legs are gilded as you would expect. It’s a rare and beautiful example of its era, Burgess. Let’s not fuck about with insulting offers.’
I smile internally. Damn, talking business just makes him even bloody sexier.
He scoops his mobile from the desk when it starts bleeping, holding his conversation on the landline. Glancing at the screen, his eyes narrow a little as he looks up at me, thoughtful, before connecting the call and handing it across the desk.
I take his phone tentatively and do as I’m bid. ‘Becker Hunt’s phone. Eleanor speaking.’
‘Oh, hi. Paula here. Where’s Becker?’
Oh, he did not. No matter how hard I battle, I can’t stop the sizzle of annoyance from rooting deep in my belly. He knew who this was when he handed me the phone. Why would he be such a dickhead? ‘Busy,’ I say tightly, watching Becker wander a short distance away from his desk, leaving me to deal with another current fuck. She’d better not ask me to schedule a date in his diary.
Paula chuckles. She’s sensed my frosty reception. ‘Eleanor, I feel I should make it clear,’ she begins, clear and confident. ‘There’s never been, nor will there ever be, any physical relationship between Becker and me. I can only imagine the women you have to endure.’
Oh? My unwarranted dislike for Paula fast converts into respect. He’s not fucking her? A quick check tells me Becker is still deep in conversation. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just . . .’ I have no idea what else to say. Bottom line, I’m jealous of Alexa, and I would have been jealous of Paula too, had she turned out to be one of Becker’s screws.
‘Really, there’s no need. I’ve encountered a few of them myself.’
‘Lucky you,’ I quip, wondering why I’m extending a conversation, fuelling it, when we shouldn’t even be having it. I don’t know who this woman is.
‘Not that it matters to me, of course,’ I rush to explain, cringing as I do. Who is she?
She laughs. ‘How are you settling in?’
‘Great,’ I answer swiftly, grateful she’s taken the initiative to turn the conversation around. ‘Keeping my head down.’
‘Best way. And keeping that adorable maverick in check?’
Her question gives me pause. ‘Trying to,’ I murmur, staring at the adorable maverick’s back.
‘Get him to call me. I need to pick his brain about something,’ Paula says, and then she hangs up, and I place Becker’s phone back on his desk.
‘Good,’ he says as I allow my eyes to climb his back. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ He slowly turns and places the receiver into the cradle. And then he stares at me. And I forget why the hell I came in here.
