‘Please.’
She left EJ to sort the drinks and headed into her office, swinging open the window and letting in a fresh breeze. They were having a surprising heatwave and, no matter that the office was air-conditioned, nothing beat the real thing. She took a breath, taking in the distant view of the city as she evaluated the day’s viewings.
It had started out well enough. She’d got through one viewing with praise aplenty from Julia, and then the woman’s phone had pinged on the threshold of property two and giddy, excited Julia had become a woman intent on murder. She’d apologised profusely, saying she just had to make a call and, thinking to give her privacy, Zara had stepped back outside. But she’d have to have been in another neighbourhood to miss the eruption that had then ensued as Julia had delivered her brother—the man Zara was doing her damnedest not to think on—the ear-bashing of a lifetime.
‘So come on, give us the low-down,’ EJ said, coming in behind her and kicking the door too. ‘I’m all ears.’ She passed a chilled glass Zara’s way and promptly sat down on the visitor chair. ‘And don’t skimp on the detail.’
In spite of her stress, Zara laughed. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’
‘By men, are we referring to Mr Swedish Sexy-Pants?’
Her laugh erupted twice over, EJ’s way with words working some magic. ‘In part. It seems Mr Swedish Sexy-Pants took an old flame of Julia’s out on a bender last night and managed to get himself papped by the tabloids with some women.’
‘So by old flame, not really all that old, then?’
‘No, I’d say it still burns strong enough.’
‘Enough to put a dampener on the remaining viewings?’
‘No, she seemed happy enough.’ She took a sip of her drink, her mind backtracking over the viewing and Julia’s parting words. ‘She’s actually considering making an offer on the second.’
‘An offer? Well, that’s fantastic.’ And then her eyes narrowed on Zara, her lips turning down. ‘But you’re not acting like it’s fantastic.’
‘It is, you’re totally right.’ But she couldn’t inject the enthusiasm into her tone. Truth was, the first thing she’d done when she’d left Julia’s company was google Mr Swedish Sexy-Pants and been confronted with the very same image Julia had likely been sent. And it had stung, the burn of jealousy wholly out of her control.
‘So I take it the problem is nothing to do with Julia and everything to do with Mr—’ A tap at the door saved Zara from the remainder of EJ’s damning statement and she pushed up out of her seat. ‘Hold that thought.’
Zara turned back to the window and EJ headed to the door, pulling it open.
‘Someone’s here to see Zara,’ she could hear Russell, one of her trainee agents, say.
‘Well, she doesn’t have any appoint—’ EJ’s voice broke on a strange little sound. ‘Right—good—yes, I’ll be out in just a sec.’
She promptly closed the door and leant back against it as Zara turned to eye her curiously. ‘Who is it?’
‘Er... Mr Swedish Sexy-Pants.’
Zara’s tummy somersaulted. ‘Fuck.’
EJ’s brows hit the sky. ‘Do you want me to get rid?’
What the hell could he want?
He’d made it clear he was backing off, that day’s scoop only serving to re-emphasise the fact she was old news. But here he was on her doorstep and, God help her, her body loved it.
Do I want rid? No.
Should I get rid? Yes.
‘Zara?’
She forced herself to calm down; there was still her business with Julia to protect. ‘Can you see what he wants, please?’
It was hardly the seeing-off she wanted to deliver, but it maintained her professional front and that was what mattered.
‘Sure thing.’ EJ swept out, door closing behind her, and Zara took several deep breaths. He could be here for any number of reasons. Any number that didn’t involve getting their rocks off. Hell, he’d had his fill with some redhead last night, he could hardly be looking for another hook-up.
And if he was...
She clenched her fists and reeled her mind back.
Don’t be a fool.
The door shifted open and in walked EJ, her own colour considerably higher than a moment ago.
‘So, looks as if we have a new client,’ she said as the door clicked shut behind her.
‘We what?’
‘He wants to sign up.’
She had to be joking; she was joking—there was no way...
‘I’m not having you on. He wants a place on the outskirts and one in the city—he wants two homes.’
Two—Jesus, the commission...
Forget the commission. He’s only doing it to get in your knickers...again... Can you really let him do that? Let him buy you?
But if he buys two properties then it’s money for the business...
And what about you, your sanity, your dignity...? You can’t do this.
Her mind spiralled out of control, the personal warring with the professional.
‘Can you imagine the fees on that?’ EJ said, narrowing her focus on what really mattered—the business. And if he needed the residences and she needed the business, then maybe there was a win-win situation to be gleaned...
If she delegated...
‘Get one of the team to sit him down, go through his requirements—’
EJ was already shaking her head.
‘What?’
‘He’s specifically requested you.’
Of course, he has.
‘And, let’s face it, you’re the best and a guy like that, he needs to be given the best. Just think what it’ll do for business.’
Just think what it’ll do to you.
She let go of a flustered breath—what choice did she have? Her business was in its infancy. Having him as a client was too big an opportunity to pass up. It was a risk she had to take and endure.
Endure?
Her insides laughed at her.
You can’t wait to be around him again. You crave the rush, the way he makes you feel, the way he desires you, the way you lose yourself in him...
Her racing thoughts were leaving her well behind. She needed to put the brakes on and fast. ‘Give me two minutes and send him in.’
‘Fabulous,’ EJ blurted, spinning on her heel to pull open the door and disappear through it, thankfully shutting it before Zara could get a glimpse of the man himself.
Two minutes. Two minutes to compose herself and perform the job she was a pro at.
Not be a swooning mess itching to be ravished.
She could do this. She bit into her lower lip hard. She would do this.
* * *
‘Ms Anders will see you now.’
Her PA smiled at him politely as she opened the door to Zara’s office and gestured for him to go in. His heart did a weird skip, which he promptly buried, and he strode forward, giving her a smile of gratitude as he passed by.
Zara was before the window, her white shirt-style dress casting a glow around it in the sunshine and hinting at the curves beneath. The weird skip went off again, falling over itself as he tried to maintain his calm, to play it cool.
‘Mr Lazenby,’ she said, her tone crisp and professional, and everything he didn’t want. She crossed the room towards him, her white dress swaying distractingly above the knee as she offered her hand. He eyed it, a small smile playing about his lips. Okay, so that was how this was going to go. He could work with that. It beat her turning him away.
He slipped his hand around hers, his fingers reaching as far as the pulse point of her wrist, and he let his fingers rest there, enjoying the play of emotion in her face. Her colour rising, her lips parting at their contact, the move so minute it could have been missed if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.
�
�If you’re going to be working for me, I would prefer you called me Daniel.’
Her tongue flicked out swiftly, teasing him with every want, before she nodded, removing her hand from his. ‘If that is what you wish, why don’t you take a seat and we can go through your requirements?’
She gestured at the visitor’s chair and he had to fight the urge to suggest they go somewhere else. Somewhere private. It wouldn’t do though. First and foremost, he had to convince her that he was there to employ her services, not to fulfil the multitudes of desires raging through his brain. Especially after how things had been left between them.
He looked to the chair, to the desk to which it clung, and memories collided with new imaginings and he stilled.
‘Perhaps I can get you a drink, while you get settled? Tea, coffee, water?’
He knew she’d read his mind in that second, could hear the tension in her voice. ‘A water—please.’
She swept past him, clouding him with her scent, his tummy drawing tight as he felt his sanity crumble.
What is she doing to you?
It didn’t matter what she was doing to him, he was there to burn it out.
Get her onside, get the properties that made perfect sense for him to own—real, honest sense, none of it purely to get his kicks—and fuck her until he could get past it. Get back in control.
He scanned her office, forcing out the distracting memories only too willing to surface, and waited for her to return. He didn’t need to wait long. She walked back in, one sandal-heeled foot kicking the door closed as she made for him, eyes steadily averted.
She set his glass down on the desk in front of him and moved behind it, settling into the chair before taking a sip of her drink and lifting her eyes to his.
‘Before we get started, I think we should set some ground rules,’ she began. ‘If I am to do this for you, there is to be no crossing of lines. I am excellent at what I do, and I’ll find you the right homes, but that’s where our connection ends.’
He nodded as he listened, his hands folding into his lap as he sat back in his chair, giving the impression of being completely at ease. ‘I understand your need to lay it all out there in black and white.’
‘Good.’
‘But let me also be clear, I am employing your services because I know you to be great at what you do. My decision to set up a home for myself here is about being closer to my sister and my growing business interests. It’s not some made-up ploy to make you spend time with me.’ She gave a satisfied smile and he added, ‘Not entirely.’
Her eyes widened, her sharp intake of breath barely discernible. ‘I—’
He held up his hand to interject, his smile cocksure. ‘Make no mistake, I will purchase two homes through you, but also know this: I want you and I intend on having what I want.’
‘Well, really...’ she blustered, her cheeks flushing, her tongue flicking out to nervously wet her lower lip, teasing his restraint.
‘You can relax, Zara,’ he assured her softly. ‘I’ll wait for you. You can decide when this line you have drawn is safe to cross and when you do, I’ll be ready.’
Her eyes wavered, her jaw clenched tight and he had the feeling she was grinding her teeth as she worked for an answer. He took pity and bent forward, releasing her gaze to lift up his glass for a drink.
‘Now we’ve got that covered,’ he said, settling back, ‘shall we begin?’
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, she’d worked through her standard Q & A—something she knew by heart and could do in her sleep, which was lucky because her brain was still clawing its way back from his ‘I want you and I intend on having what I want’ declaration.
Having what I want. Of all the cocky, arrogant, self-assured, pig-headed things to say. And what had she done to dissuade him? A big, fat nothing. If her body hadn’t been so on fire at the prospect, she would have thrown back his behaviour the previous night and lain all the anger at his door. Instead she was annoyed at herself. For being so easy where he was concerned.
She looked at him now as he scanned the document she had filled in and waited for his affirmation that all was in order. She used the time to calm the nerves that were mounting by the second now the Q & A was done, their business for the day complete. Would he leave quietly? Or would he push again? And if he did, was she ready for it?
He flipped the pages back in order and his amber eyes lifted to her, their depths searing her across the desk and thickening the air around them.
You’re far from ready.
‘Anything amiss?’ She sounded cool and professional, everything her body was not.
‘It’s perfect,’ he said, holding her eye as he passed the document back to her. ‘When can we begin?’
‘I believe I can get something in the diary for later this week—if that fits with you?’
‘Also perfect.’ He pushed up out of his seat, his sudden movement jarring her into the same. ‘I’m assuming that’s all you need for now.’
‘It is,’ she said simply.
Was that it? Was he leaving so easily?
Disappointment landed deep in her gut and she smoothed a hand through her hair as she rationalised it away—you don’t want more.
‘In that case, I won’t keep you any longer.’ He gave her a grin that reached all the way to her toes, heat whipping through her. ‘Call me when you have something.’
‘I will.’ It was all she could manage, afraid that any more would give too much away.
She watched him turn and walk to the door, her breath hanging in her lungs.
And then he stopped, his head turning to look at her over his shoulder. ‘Oh, and congratulations, by the way.’
Her breath escaped. ‘Congratulations?’
‘On Julia—she rang me earlier to say she’s placing an offer.’
‘Oh, right, yes.’ She nodded, her brain catching up. ‘She’s happy, then?’
‘More than—you’ve done a great job.’ Open admiration fuelled his words and a delicious warmth encased her. He meant it.
‘Thank you. I’m glad she’s happy.’
He gave a small smile. ‘Me too.’
‘And does she know you’ve asked me to source these homes for you?’
His smile turned sheepish. ‘It may have come up.’
She shouldn’t ask how it went. Not after the warning Julia had delivered. And yet she asked anyway. ‘How did that go?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m looking to make a home for myself close to her and there’s no one she’d rather got the commission than you, so...’
The commission. The money. It was all that mattered ultimately. Her business.
Yeah, and what about that redhead he got into bed with last night? Are you going to be able to keep your jealousy in check, or lose it like Julia did over Johansson at the viewing?
He frowned and turned to face her head-on. ‘What’s wrong?’
Christ, did I have to be so transparent?
‘Nothing.’
He stepped forward, his frown deepening. ‘That’s not what your face is telling me.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does to me.’ He said it so earnestly she could almost believe his feelings were capable of running deeper than sex.
‘I was there when Julia spoke to you today,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she was making it impossible.’
His jaw twitched, his voice tight. ‘You know about the article.’
‘Yes.’
‘Nothing happened.’
Get off the topic.
‘It’s none of my business.’
‘I’m making it your business,’ he said, his eyes boring into her own. ‘The truth is, I went out looking to forget this thing between us and failed.’
‘That’s how you forget?’ She
gave a harsh laugh. ‘Falling into bed with the next willing woman? I shouldn’t really be surprised.’
‘It’s all I know.’ He rammed his fingers through his hair. ‘Hell, if you’d lived through my upbringing you’d understand.’
‘I asked you to help me understand last night, and you refused.’
He looked to the door, his eyes wavering between it and her, his hesitation clear. ‘I’m not used to talking, least of all with the women I sleep with. In truth, they don’t ask, and I don’t tell.’
‘And I threaten that status quo?’
His lip quirked up at the corner. ‘Something like that.’
‘Well, for what it’s worth...’ She raised her chin in forced confidence, acknowledging the vulnerability of what she was about to say and saying it anyway. ‘I think you’re better than the press would have people believe.’
‘Better?’ he scoffed gently. ‘Have you read those articles?’
She nodded. ‘You know I have. But they’re not the same person as the one stood before me just now, the one that loves his sister so openly and cares what I think.’
‘No?’
She shook her head, fighting the desire to close the distance between them and kiss an agreement out of him. ‘You just told me that nothing happened last night. If you didn’t care what I thought, you wouldn’t be telling me that.’
Her deduction hung in the air between them, their gazes locked in some silent exchange, and then he blinked, a shutter falling over his expression. ‘Regardless, it’s still me, it’s how I’ve always been, and you need to either accept it or keep that line in place.’
And then he was gone, heading out of the door and leaving her mentally slapping herself.
What are you playing at?
She fell back into her seat and thrust both hands through her hair, gripping the back of her head in disbelief. Way to go focusing on the professional. You can’t even do it for five minutes.
EJ found her in the exact same position when she bustled in moments later.
‘Wowzers!’ she exclaimed, pushing the door closed, and waving an exaggerated hand at Zara’s miserable form. ‘If I had that man following me around with that puppy-dog-lost look I’d be dancing, not looking like the world was coming to an end.’
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