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'Like you, you mean?' she flashed back hotly.
'Why all this anger and resentment?' He had changed. In an instant the derisive cutting element had gone and the sensuously persuasive and much more dangerous Hawk was back, his eyes almost stroking her hot skin as they wandered over her flushed face. 'Is it such a crime to want to spend an evening in your company, Joanne? In spite of all the formidable keep-off signs you must have the occasional brave man dare to make such a suggestion?'
She shrugged, moving away from him as she did so, and he made no effort to stop her. 'I don't have much time for socialising,' she said briefly, feeling a little better when there were a few feet of air between them.
'So your idea of keeping work and play separate boils down to all work and no play?' he asked mockingly. 'What an industrious little worker I have in my midst.'
'I would have thought you'd be pleased,' she said tightly, refusing to be drawn.
'So would I.' He stared at her for a moment, his voice thoughtful. 'Yes, so would I. My loss of a theatre companion is Bergique & Son's gain after all. Well, it will have to be lunch, then-nice tame lunch in a busy crowded restaurant where you will be quite safe from my wicked intentions.'
She glared at him, she couldn't help it, but he seemed oblivious to her fury, turning to pick up the tie which had arrived with the shirt and walking round to the other side of the desk again as he said, 'Be ready at twelve.'
'But-'
'And order some more coffee, would you? Preferably delivered by anyone other than Maggie,' he added drily, his eyes on his desk.
Immediately it was all business mode again, the rapier, sharp mind she had come to respect and admire over the last few weeks homed in on the financial report from Pierre Bergique they had been about to discuss when Maggie had committed her prize faux pas.
She had never met anyone who could metamorphose so completely, she thought testily, passing on the request for coffee before reseating herself opposite the big dark figure behind the desk. He couldn't have any real feelings at all; it seemed as though he was made of granite, hard, unyielding granite, with just a covering of flesh and skin on the outside. But what an outside…
The brilliant blue eyes suddenly rose and focused on her face and she felt their impact like a bolt of lightning. 'Relax, Joanne,' he said easily. 'You're no good to me all tensed up and ready to strike; I want your full attention on this report.'
'I beg your pardon-?'
'You were thinking of excuses to get out of lunch.' The cool voice was irritatingly sure of itself but she didn't dissuade him; she would far rather he think her lack of concentration was due to what he had suggested lather than her musing on his magnificent body. 'Rest assured there isn't one, so let's press on with the matter in hand.'
'I'm more than ready to do what you want.' It was an unfortunate choice of words, and the haughty expression with which she had spoken the clipped declaration faltered as his black eyebrows rose.
'I wish.' Two words, and his head had already lowered to the papers in front of him, but the shivers of sensation continued to flow up and down her spine for a few minutes more, making the full attention he had requested impossible.
The sky was overcast and there was a slight drizzle in the air as they walked out of the building at three minutes past twelve, the cold October day making the warmth of summer a distant memory. Hawk's car was crouching in its reserved space next to her little red Fiesta, and never had 'his' and 'hers' been so markedly different.
The thought brought a little smile to her lips as Hawk opened the passenger door for her and she slid inside the luxuriously plush interior, and he paused before moving round the car, peering in the open door as he said, 'What?'
'What?' She arched her brows at him although she knew exactly what he had meant.
'Why the smile? You don't often smile in my company,' he added sardonically.
'It was nothing, just the cars. It just struck me yours looks as though it could eat mine for breakfast,' she said lightly.
'If you work the miracle with Bergique & Son you'll be able to treat yourself to anything you fancy.' There was a note to his voice she couldn't quite place.
'I'm quite content with my little Fiesta,' she said quietly.
'Are you, Joanne? Quite content, that is?'
They both knew he wasn't referring to her choice of car, and she stared up into the dark, handsome face above her, forcing her eyes not to fall from his and her features to betray none of her inner turmoil as she said, 'Perfectly. It's never let me down yet, besides which I wouldn't feel comfortable driving anything too flash.'
'Flash?'
She had nettled him and it felt wonderfully good. 'My Fiesta is ideal for nipping in and out of London traffic,' she continued sweetly, 'and I can park it almost anywhere.'
He eyed her darkly for one moment before shutting the passenger door very quietly, and as he slid into the driving seat a few seconds later she had the brief satisfaction of knowing she had held her own for once.
There were several good restaurants within easy reach but after they had been driving for some fifteen minutes, the powerful car growling with impatience at the lunch-time traffic, she asked the question that had been hovering on her lips for the last few miles. 'Where are we going?'
'I've an appointment before we eat; you don't mind?' he said absently, his eyes on the road ahead. 'It won't take long.'
