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She frowned, not trusting this sudden bridge-building. ‘What are they?’ It had to be averyshort list.
‘A library that needs sorting,’ he said, his thoughts a million miles clear of his professional delivery.
So long as it was histhoughtsthere was no problem, so long as he never lost sight of the inescapable fact that she was his enemy’s granddaughter, and as such off limits, this could work.
Of course, the situation was not helped by knowing this attraction was mutual. He could have done without the insight—a beautiful woman wanting you was a big turn-on.
‘Do you have any doubts you’re up to the job?’
She blinked, thrown by another of his lightning changes of mood. ‘Is this an interview?’ Or a change of mind? Her professional pride injured, her chin went up. ‘I’m very good at what I do,’ she said, adopting what she hoped was a coolly professional expression—the cool wasn’t so hard, as he’d made her feel so angry. ‘And I’m actually excited about the challenge.’
His glance was drawn to the soft outline of her mouth. ‘Good to know. So it is agreed, going forward, we focus on what we have in common, not what...sets us apart.’
She nodded and sat there looking at him, trying not to think about the differences between them: his hardness and her softness, his olive complexion and her pale skin, his... God, the more she tried not to think, the more shewasthinking. Each thought leading her deeper into a sensual maze, imagining not just the texture of his skin, but how it would feel to touch, how it would feel against her own. His mouth...
‘Am I boring you, Anna?’
She gave a shocked little gasp as his voice jolted her from her fantasies. A wave of shamed guilt washed her pale skin rose and she laughed far too loudly to hide her embarrassment.
‘Sorry, I didn’t catch...?’
‘I was saying that nine to five is not really an option. The heat at the moment makes the middle of the day hard to work in. You have no problem with flexible hours?’
‘None at all,’ she responded, feeling happier about things she felt totally confident about. Workwise she had no false modesty. She knew her worth: she was good and she planned to be better.
‘I am looking forward to enjoying our perfectly professional working relationship. How’s the foot?’ His eyes slid down her bare legs to her ankles. Her feet were covered by a pair of flat ballet slippers. The leather was butter soft and so comfortable underneath the light padding, she had forgotten about it.
She fought the twin urges to tuck her feet out of sight and stare at his wide sensual mouth.
She lost both battles. ‘Much better, thank you. These shoes are really comfortable. About that...they sent far too many clothes.’
‘I will speak to someone about that.’
‘You have to let me know how much I owe you.’
‘I’ll let you know.’ He paused, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
It was worrying he could read her so well. ‘I’m still getting calls from journalists,’ she admitted.
‘I’d be surprised if you weren’t. My advice is to block the numbers and switch your phone off if you need to.’
‘I had one caller who said he followed us to your mother’s apartment building. He knew that you spent the night...’ She paused, waiting tensely for his response, relieved when he appeared thoughtful but relaxed as he digested the information.
‘What did you say to him?’
‘Nothing. I mean,literallynothing.’
He smiled. ‘You did the right thing. You have his number?’
She nodded and handed him her phone. ‘It’s the eleven thirty-one call.’
He nodded and transferred the relevant information to his own phone before returning hers. ‘Don’t worry, he thinks he has a lever.’ The hauteur in his face, the ice in his eyes made Annaalmostfeel sorry for the journalist.
‘And he doesn’t?’
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘If he calls again?’
