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“I suppose.” She stood aside. “Fair warning, though. You have one chance left and one chance only.”
“Chance?” He glanced around her disorderly living room.
“Mm-hmm. So far this morning, you’ve already insulted me once, twice..three? Many times. One more insult—one morelook—” as his startled gaze shot to hers—“that says, nay, implies, nay, even begins to imply the shadow of a speck of an insult, and you’re out of here. For.Ever. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
His gray eyes widened. “Did you just use the word nay?”
“I did, and I have other Middle English words available if I need them. Also, if that was your takeaway, you were not listening to what I said. Which I happen to consider an ins—”
“Insult, yes, I got it.” He studied her, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
His expression grew grave. “If I have insulted you in the past, then I’m sorry. I would never dream of doing such a thing,” his voice altered subtly, “lovely Paula. Stunning Paula.” His gaze did a slow, devastating perusal of her from head to toe before he continued smoothly, “Paula of the charming smile and...what else...admirable talents...professionaltalents, talents deserving of the highest respect. And tender heart...Paula of the tender, forgiving heart...angelic Paula...who has graciously decided to let me have another chance. Now.” Bastian’s voice flipped from charming to brisk. “Have I built up some credit, or am I still in a deficit? Because I really do want you to be my date tonight, Ms. Raymond.”
She was torn between laughter and outrage. And somehow a thousand times more turned on by his blatant flattery, even knowing it was meant to reduce her to a puddle of gullible goo.
She carefully bent to pick up the fallen cup, crumpling it in her hand, then snatched up a random object from the nearest table. It turned out to be an ebook reader, and woefully ineffective at fanning herself with.
Then the full impact of the situation hit her. She was fanning herself with an electronic device in front of her hot male neighbor, with her hair twisted into its mad nighttime arrangement, wearing a set of old comfort clothes from her college days, green Santa’s elf slippers on her feet, and—oh, shit, really?—no bra.
She looked like a disjointed slob. No wonder he’d assumed she’d fall over herself to grab the chance for a date with one of the ultra-highbrow Spencers.
She stopped fanning herself and stood up as tall as her five feet and change allowed.
“No credit for you,” she decreed. “You don’t have a clue about my talents, so you’re clearly lying through your teeth. But fine, if you want to talk, we’ll talk. You may have a seat while I get dressed.” She pointed to the ecru leather loveseat.
“Thanks,” he said in a humble voice.
“This may take a while. Oh, and there are multiple security cameras trained on you. I will know everything you do in this room, so I advise you to avoid doing anything creepy. You may pick up a magazine if you wish.”
His face took on the beginnings of the first true smile she’d ever seen from him. As she turned away—really, it was more of a flounce—he gave her a once-over that set her simmering blood to boiling.
