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Beth quickly clamped her lips shut, unaware she’d been indulging in the habit of a lifetime. “Nope, not hyped or distracted here. Humming means I’m happy.” Or trying to give the illusion of it while she tried not to contemplate spending an entire evening as Aidan’s platonic date.
“Okay, I’ll play along, but if you’re humming, I’m worried.”
Damn Aidan Voss for getting under her skin.
“Give me a break. All that cramming I’m doing to make sure I’m a fab tour guide and your reputation as a gun curator stays intact is probably taking its toll.”
Lana laughed. “You know I’m grateful, especially now I know you’re actually doing this. But remember, even though it’s a work function, act professional, okay? I know how much you love a party and you can’t afford to fraternize too much, especially if you’re accompanying the boss.”
Beth grimaced, imagining what Lana would think if she knew exactly how much she wanted to fraternize with the delectable Aidan.
“No fraternising here, I’m a professional.” She crossed her fingers behind her back with her free hand. “I have to go. Look after that busted ankle.”
“Shall do. Have fun at the function, but not too much.”
Beth forced a chuckle, trying to ignore the instant image of Aidan that sprung to mind when she thought of having fun. “Okay. Bye.”
After disconnecting, she placed the cell on the work bench and rolled her shoulders again. Maybe she was making too much of a big deal about this. Aidan was just another guy and this was just another function.
Yeah, right.
She yanked her protective goggles back into place, shoved her hands back into gloves, and picked up the welder.
Time to set off some real sparks in more ways than one.
* * *
Aidan pulledup outside the derelict old warehouse in the heart of Brunswick and silently cursed the Sat-Nav in his car.
One look at the grubby grey walls, peeling red paint on the solitary door, and the deserted street told him he must’ve punched the wrong address into it.
‘So much for satellite navigation,’ he thought, reaching for his cell to check the maps app, and the piece of paper with Beth’s address. However, a brief glance at her bold, flowing script told him he hadn’t made a mistake and neither had his car’s equipment.
She lived in this run-down, eerie warehouse.
Surprised, he got out of the car and strode to the door, curiosity lending a spring to his step. From the minute he laid eyes on her he’d known Beth was something else and she’d continued to intrigue him with every passing day, and now this.
With her flair for fashion—when not at work—and sassy attitude, he’d pictured her inhabiting some trendy city apartment, living the good life: parties, dancing, café culture. Instead, she chose to live in a dingy Brunswick street in a warehouse that wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire flick.
Brunswick may be one of Melbourne’s cosmopolitan inner suburbs but none of the gloss had reached this place yet. Hitting the intercom button, he waited. And waited. And waited. He was just about to reach for his cell when the red door opened with a flourish and his mouth went dry.
“Hey there, Professor. Ready to leave?”
It had been worth the wait as he started at the top, admiring her loosely arranged reddish-blonde hair piled on top of her head before his gaze slid down her body, taking in the silver shimmery dress skimming her body like liquid metal poured on and ending inches above her knees, the long expanse of bare, bronzed legs, and another pair of ‘take me’ shoes.
Leave? Was she kidding? With her in that outfit, a coy smile flirting around her mouth, and a mischievous gleam in her eyes, he didn’t want to leave, he wanted to push his body up against hers, back her into the warehouse, and have mind-blowing sex. Wild, passionate, unrestrained sex, the type of sex he’d been fantasizing about ever since he caught his first glimpse of her long legs.
“Nice shoes.” He wrenched his gaze up to meet hers, the faintest hint of peach beckoning him to close the short distance between them, take hold of her, and capture her mouth with every ounce of barely restrained desire pounding through his body.
It had been way too long since he’d had the time to date, and the enforced celibacy that came with being the best damn CEO the museum had ever had, had him on edge.
“I aim to please.” With a husky laugh that resurrected fond memories of sultry heroines from the classic black and white movies he liked, she shut the door and slipped her hand around his elbow. “Now, let’s go wow these stuffy geeks at the fundraiser.”
Just like that, some of his good mood evaporated. Was that how she saw him? As some stuffy professor-ish type who didn’t know how to have fun? He had to know.
“Am I included in the stuffy geek brigade?”
Her eyes glittered with amusement as she laid a hand on his shirt and it took every ounce of willpower not to capture it and drag the rest of her into his arms.
