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‘Sir, we’re here,’ his driver interrupted his thoughts.
Draco alighted from the car and stared at the two-storey Victorian façade. While he hadn’t been surprised Arabella lived in Chelsea, he’d expected her to inhabit a glitzy condominium, not a homey dwelling on a leafy suburban street. Mounting the shallow steps to the door, he pressed her intercom.
The door released half a minute later. Draco told himself he didn’t care if she didn’t bother about her security, but by the time he arrived in front of an open doorway on the first floor irritation had given way to anger.
Loud music pumped from what seemed like a hundred speakers, although he couldn’t immediately see them as he went down a short hallway and arrived in a sizeable living room painted snow-white, and decorated with splashes of purple and pink.
He didn’t have time to be offended by the jarring decor because he was once again confronted by a scantily clad Arabella Daniels, who didn’t bother to look up as he walked into the room.
Draco dragged his gaze from her cross-legged figure enough to take in the fact that she was packing for a long trip. Escaping with the proceeds of her ill-gotten gains, perhaps?
He gritted his jaw and waited.
A moment later her head snapped up. Blue eyes met his, widened, before her mouth dropped open. ‘You’re not Contessa,’ she shouted above the pumping rock music.
‘No, I am not.’
Her eyes darted from him to the darkened hallway and back again. She set aside the sleek, specialist, lightweight skis that Draco knew cost several thousand pounds, and rose lithely to her feet. ‘You...I wasn’t expecting...what are you doing here?’
‘Do you always answer your door without checking to see who you’re letting in?’ he bit out.
She shrugged. ‘I thought you were Contessa, my manager. She’s the only one who knows where—’ She stopped and waved her hand. ‘Let’s get back to my question. What are you doing here?’
‘If you insist on playing this game, I’ll give you one guess, after you turn that racket off.’
Her pointed chin tilted and she folded her bare arms. ‘No. If you don’t like my taste in music, feel free to reuse the front door.’
Stopping his gaze from conducting a full scrutiny of her body, clad in vest top and hot pants, Draco stalked to the entertainment system set on top of an artsy-looking vanity unit and stabbed the off button.
‘Hey, you can’t do that!’
He turned and faced her, willing himself not to react to the mingled scent of peach shampoo and delicate perfume that infused his senses now his eardrums weren’t being shredded.
‘Did you forget the time, Arabella? I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on the off-chance that my deadline escaped your notice because you don’t possess a watch?’
Her frowning gaze slid from the silent music system to his face. Her arms tightened and her stare grew bolder. ‘I have a watch. Several, in fact. I know exactly what the time is.’
The cold blaze of anger chilled his insides. He welcomed it far more than he welcomed the lick of fire that had flamed in his groin at the sight of her bare, shapely legs. ‘I can only conclude, then, that you thought my last words to you were a joke?’
She made a humming, almost accommodating sound under her breath. ‘Not quite. You don’t seem the joking type. I don’t imagine you’d appreciate a joke if it reared up and bit you hard.’
‘So that’s how you live your life? On the edge of reckless jokes?’
She shrugged. ‘You know what they say...if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much room.’
The urge to grab her, drag her close, just as he’d done in his office, assailed him. He stabbed his hands deep into his pockets to curb the impulse. Arabella Daniels took pleasure in flaunting her risqué behaviour. Draco wasn’t here to be riled. He was here to do the riling. To let her know she wouldn’t be getting away with stealing from him.
‘But if you insist on a definition,’ she continued, ‘I’d say I considered your words more of a suggestion...perhaps an invitation? As you can see, I opted to reject both.’
Draco drew in a breath, unable to accept that anyone could have so very little self-preservation. Back in his office, he’d considered her careless attitude a front, but now he wasn’t so sure. But then why was he surprised? He knew first-hand the sort of person he was dealing with. Wasn’t such a creature the same one responsible for reducing his sister’s dreams to dust? He’d trusted his precious Maria’s well-being and burgeoning talent to someone he’d thought would treasure and harness them. Instead, his sister’s life had been irrevocably destroyed.
