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‘You’re wrong.’ She jutted her chin out defiantly. ‘You have no rights over me. The fact that I’m here doesn’t mean I have to answer yourquestions, any more than you have to answer mine.’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘No.’ She pushed the risotto away. ‘I’ve lost my appetite.’
He arched a brow. ‘A hunger strike?’
Despite her obvious irritation, her lips quirked, a small smile slipping past her guard. His gut kicked. He liked seeing her smile. Danger sirens blared. He ate some more of his own dinner. ‘Answer the question and I’ll eat,’ she bartered.
He moved the bowl closer to her, then crossed his arms.
‘I’m good with details—wedding or otherwise.’ And at this moment, he was noticing far too many details about the woman opposite him.
‘So am I,’ she said after a small pause. ‘I’ve put a lot of work into the details for the wedding. I know it’s what she’d want.’
Her confidence was seductive. ‘And I’ll consider your plan; I’ve told you that.’
‘With the other proposals?’
‘Did you seriously think turning up here in person, uninvited, would confer special privileges on your bid?’
Heat flushed her cheeks, so they were the exact same shade as her lips. He watched, fascinated, as the colour spread, imagining her strawberries and cream complexion beneath her turtleneck. Wondering if her breasts would be this same shade, and her nipples a dusty pink.
His groin strained against his jeans and he was glad then for the height of the bench. He really was out of practice if he was getting a hard-on just looking at a woman.
‘Yes, actually.’ She jabbed her dinner. ‘Most people would appreciate the fact I’ve literally gone the extra mile.’
‘I didn’t ask for applications to be sent via email so that my request could be ignored. To be honest, the fact that you showed up here works against you. Big time. I’m not going to hire anyone who doesn’t respect my requests. I’m not interested in arguing with the events company I hire. When I specify a way of doing business, I expect that to be adhered to.’
‘You mean obeyed,’ she quipped swiftly, sipping her wine, as though the drink could cool down her cheeks.
‘Fine, obeyed. Is there a problem with that?’
‘Well, how many events do you organise a year?’
He stared at her coldly. ‘Your point?’
‘That you don’t know what you’re doing.’
He resisted the strong temptation to point out that he single-handedly oversaw several multibillion-dollar enterprises. ‘I see. Is this how you usually go about ingratiating yourself with prospective clients?’
‘I don’t flatter anyone to gain work,’ she responded swiftly. ‘I’m honest. That’s part of my charm.’
He didn’t want to dwell on her charms, even when certain parts of his anatomy could think of little else.
‘You need someone at the helm of this who knows what they’re doing, and that’s not you.’
He almost laughed at her assertion, but it had been so long, Thirio suspected he’d forgotten how. He drank his wine instead.
‘How many events like this doyouorganise each year, then?’
For someone who’d been putting him in his place a moment earlier, she went very, very quiet.
‘What? Cat suddenly got your tongue?’
Her cheeks went bright pink. He pressed his hands into the benchtop to stop from the sudden, almost irresistible urge to reach out and feel the heat for himself. What if she wasn’t real? If he was going to conjure up someone to distract himself from his nightmare reality, then this woman would be exactly it.
‘I—’
