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Thea levelled him with a steady gaze. ‘Besides, I’m not his type.’
That seemed to relax the crouching panther a little.
Christo settled back into the comfortable cushions of the couch. ‘Let me know the security firm he works for and I’ll look into it.’
She breathed out slowly. ‘Thank you.’
‘I said I’d do anything to make you happy here.’
That voice. Soft as the caress of silk sheets. But his eyes held the promise of a brewing storm. And she wasn’t even sure he was trying. If he did, Thea knew the man would beat the devil in his ability to tempt.
‘Are you really going to insist on doing this every evening?’
‘I seem to recall you offered.’
‘It was the lesser of two evils.’
‘A similar position for both of us,’ Christo said. ‘We could try to get to know each other, since we might be together some time.’
Thea’s stomach churned like a twisting pit of vipers. This could go on for years. Yet she couldn’t pray for his father’s death to free her any faster.
Her pulse leapt, threatening to rampage out of control. Her breathing became short and shallow. These episodes had increased in their relentless frequency since her engagement. An old, bitter enemy challenging her from the shadows. But she wouldn’t let it consume her in front of Christo.
Thea flipped the pencil in her hand and pressed the sharp point into the pad of her thumb, concentrating on the pain. Her heartbeat slowed. The twist in her stomach eased. She relaxed the pencil’s pressure and rubbed the spot with her index finger, soothing the sting.
‘So, what? We play twenty questions?’
He smiled in that wolfish way of his and her toes curled into the plush carpet.
‘Would you prefer truth or dare?’ he asked.
‘I’m a bit old for that sort of game.’ She sniffed. In reality, she’d never played any sort. Though she’d always craved the freedom to make mistakes of her own.
‘What would you like to play?’ Christo ask
ed, his tone all soft invitation.
Could he have been one of those mistakes, if she’d been allowed to make them? In other circumstances might she have fallen for the ruinous gleam in those gold-green eyes or the dark promise in his midnight voice?
No. He wasn’t her mistake to make. Now or ever.
She sighed. Rolled her eyes for added effect. ‘Ask your questions, Christo.’
Christo stood and walked to the bureau, where he poured himself a cognac. He sipped the drink as he regarded her over the rim of the glass. ‘My mechanic was impressed with your bike. Where did you develop an interest in vintage British motorcycles?’
Her heart stopped for a beat. In truth, before becoming her interest it had been Alexis’s passion. She had to step carefully. Christo didn’t really want to get to know her. He was littering their conversation with landmines to trap her.
‘And here I thought you were going to ask me my favourite colour. Which, for the record, is red.’
‘Why does that not surprise me?’ he said, smiling. ‘Mine’s green.’
‘Opposites.’
‘They can attract.’
‘I’m thinking oil and water.’
‘And I’m thinking you’re avoiding my question.’
