This was the biggest chance he had ever taken. At least he wasn’t going to be ripped off and she would be gone just as soon as he got thisthingout of his system.
He still wanted her. He accepted that as his body surged into hot arousal. Didn’t make sense but there you had it. What they had required a natural conclusion and looking at her now, seeing the way her cheeks reddened and noting the slight tremble in her hands, Art knew that she felt the same.
Even if she didn’t know it. Yet.
* * *
He dealt her a slow smile of utter charm and Rose’s mouth tightened.
‘Well, here I am,’ she replied neutrally. She wondered whether that remark of his had hinted at a suspicion that she might have tried to avoid meeting him because of the effect he still had on her. Had he thought that she had hesitated because she’d been scared of seeing him again? Or was that just being fanciful?
The way he was looking at her...
She dropped her eyes and resisted the temptation to fidget. ‘I was under the impression that your secretary would be meeting me.’
‘Change of plan.’
‘Why?’ She looked at him and it took a lot of willpower not to instantly look away because gazing into those fathomless dark eyes was the equivalent of having a shock delivered to her nervous system.
‘Call it respect for the fact that what we had was bigger than the sum total of what I’m going to contribute to your community.’
Rose felt the sting of colour creep into her cheeks. She didn’t want the past recalled. She wanted the brief time they’d shared neatly boxed up and shoved somewhere out of sight.
‘There was no need,’ she said tightly. ‘I’m not here to have a stroll down memory lane, Art. It’s not appropriate. I’m here to sort whatever details need sorting and then I’m heading back home. The quicker we can deal with what we need to decide the better.’
‘In which case,’ Art said briskly, ‘let’s start with your work space...’
* * *
It was the same size as the room which she shared with Phil and their assistant and all the various people who came and went at will. Compared with the clutter of the office in her house, the clean white modernist vision she had been allocated made her jaw drop.
She thought of the warm chaos of her own house and the familiar sounds of occupied rooms and felt a pang of longing so great that it took her breath away.
Life pre-Art had been simple. Making ends meet as she’d buried herself in her worthwhile causes had been a walk in the park because, when it came to stress, there was nothing more stressful than dealing with emotions. She had managed to avoid that for her entire life because no one had ever penetrated the protective wall she had built around herself.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ Rose muttered, looking down at her feet.
‘Don’t you like the office space?’
He’d moved directly in front of her and Rose only managed to stand her ground through sheer willpower and a driving urge not to feel intimidated.
‘It’s very...nice.’
‘Verynice?’ Art looked away briefly, then returned his dark searching gaze to her face.
‘It’s not what I’m used to.’ Rose cleared her throat and gathered herself. ‘It really makes me see the gaping chasm between us.’
Art flushed darkly. ‘We’ve been over this. Let me take you to the hotel. You can drop your bag and then we’ll go for lunch.’
‘Art, there’s no need to put yourself out for me. I don’t expect you to take me to lunch or anywhere else, for that matter. Your PA gave me the impression that I wouldn’t actually be seeing a great deal of you.’
‘Like I said, plans change. You’ll be thrilled to hear that I’ve cleared my diary for you.’
Rose looked at him wryly, eyebrows raised. ‘Do I look thrilled?’
‘I’ve missed your sense of humour. Some men might be turned off because you’re not simpering, but not me.’ Art held her gaze and raked his fingers through his dark hair, his lean body taut and tense.
