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“You smoke?” she said as he mounted the steps behind her. “Gross.” She smiled inwardly. One benefit of this whole “rules” situation was that she didn’t have to worry about what she said. If you weren’t doing that “getting to know you” thing with the hope a relationship might result, you didn’t have to worry about making a good impression.
So she followed that with, “I would never have expected you to live here.”
Stubbing out the cigar, he said, “I don’t really smoke. Maybe once every couple of months when the mood strikes.” He opened the front door and gestured for her to precede him inside. “And as for the house whose honor you’ve just insulted, I love this place.”
“I can see why,” she said, registering, as she took in the amazing interior, that this was the first time she’d ever heard him express an unreservedly positive opinion about something. “It’s beautiful.” And it was. The place must have been gutted back to the studs and rebuilt—it looked like a spread in Architectural Digest. They’d stepped into a living room with a huge roaring fire at the far end. The wall that adjoined the attached house was exposed brick and sported an enormous black and white photograph of the Toronto skyline in a rainstorm. The house was narrow but deep, and at the back of the main floor she could see across a gleaming marble island into a small, but no doubt, luxuriously appointed kitchen. “It’s just that I was expecting more…”
“Rosedale?” he supplied, naming the city’s wealthiest neighborhood.
“Yes. Or some kind of luxury condo.”
“I wanted to be able to walk to work. It’s less than twenty minutes from here.”
“And Edward’s is about halfway in between.”
“Exactly, which is why I got into the habit of coming for dinner on my way home. Except, of course, for Tuesdays, when I used to have dinner with my betrayer. You know, the Judas Iscariot of the real estate world.” He made a self-deprecating face and took her coat, and she couldn’t help but admire his ass as he turned to hang it. “Anyway, those mansions in Rosedale are too big for one person.” She couldn’t disagree, but still, this beautiful but cozy place made her wonder if the impression she’d formed of him wasn’t entirely correct. She’d been surprised by how non-sterile his office had been, too. “Not to worry, though,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her farther inside. “I have this place tricked out.”
She followed him to the kitchen and took a seat at the island as he indicated.
“You hungry?”
“I ate at the restaurant,” she said, taking in the smooth dark wooden floor-to-ceiling cabinets lining two walls, concealing, she assumed, dishes, food, even appliances, for none were visible.
“Scotch?”
“Had one of those before I left Edward’s, too.” She grinned. She’d needed the liquid courage to get into the cab.
“Want another?”
“No, thank you.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to explain why she rarely had more than one drink at a time—he’d seen her mother, after all.
Standing on the other side of the island, he turned and lowered his elbows to the counter, propping his chin in his hands and gazing at her with those ice blue eyes. He was wearing a long sleeve navy V-neck T-shirt, and she could see a few golden hairs peeking out of the neckline. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to lick them. But probably she was here to discuss the finances. Not to lick his chest. Or at least not until after they’d discussed the finances.
“Heard from your mother?”
“Huh?” That was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“You said the usual pattern is that you hear from her a few times after she reappears until she really goes.”
“Yes. I mean, no. That’s right, but I haven’t heard from her. Haven’t been home, though, since I left for work mid-afternoon. For all I know she’s sitting outside my door right now.”
He nodded. “I think you should stay here tonight. Just don’t be home when she comes.”
She was touched he would offer, but it felt weird. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who looked after people like this. There was probably a rule about it. “That’s nice of you, but I can’t avoid my apartment forever. Or my mother.” She summoned a wry smile. “Alas.”
“It’s not nice of me.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a nice person.”
“Um, okay.” Those eyes—they were wicked blue sapphires.
“I’ve broken the rules for you, Cassie.”
