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“You’re ready to …”
“How long have you been driving?” He interrupted without realising he was doing it. That was just Caradoc’s way.
She compressed her lips, intending to express displeasure but unwittingly drawing his gaze to her pout. “Full time, for four years.”
His response was immediate. “How old are you?”
She didn’t, for a moment, think of hedging the question. “Twenty three.”
Eleven years his junior. He rubbed a hand over his square jawline. Despite having shaved before leaving Manhattan, his skin was prickled with fresh hair.
“I’m accustomed to more experienced chauffeurs, ordinarily.”
“Are you?”
“I also require my drivers to have a skillset that goes beyond driving.”
“Do you?” Her tone was sweet. Too sweet. It hid a blade of diamond-like strength.
“Security, for one,” he prompted.
“Your security?” She couldn’t help it. Her words were pocked with wry amusement. The man before her was a pi
cture of physical strength and virility.
“Yes.”
“Then I think you’ll find I’m adequately prepared to meet your needs,” she assured him stiffly.
“Really?” He was droll. This woman looked like a breeze could blow her away. Well, her delectable curves might offer a hint of resistance.
“Yes, really,” she promised, without elucidating.
“My driver in Manhattan has more than twenty two years experience as an NYPD cop.”
“Does she?” Finn prompted with a tight grin, earning another brow furrowing from Caradoc. Why did that turn her on so much? Seeing him cross and confused was making her insides all gooey.
“He,” Caradoc corrected instinctively.
“Well,” Finn shrugged. “I’m no cop.”
“No,” Caradoc agreed.
“But I can promise you, sir, I could save you from any threat that comes your way.” She said it with a conspiratorial wink that made him feel almost childish. It was a revelation. Caradoc hadn’t been spoken to with such wry disrespect in a very long time. If ever.
“Oh?” He covered his unusual sense of uncertainty with another step forward and was rewarded by the way colour bloomed high in her cheekbones. Her eyes widened and her pupils visibly swelled.
Damn it. Any ground she’d made up had been swiftly lost by the treachery of her body.
“I’m more than qualified to work as your chauffeur,” she said stiffly, her smile no longer in evidence. “That includes being able to protect you should the need arise.”
She had surprised him. He didn’t like it. Caradoc made a living from making snap decisions. Whether it was people or corporations, he made it his business to get their measure in a matter of moments. And yet Seraphina ‘call me Finn’ James had met his interrogation head-on.
He didn’t show surprise. She had wrong-footed him but only briefly. He was back in control swiftly.
“Do you have the address?”
“Yes, sir,” she flattened anything but civility from her tone and blinked up at him.
