programme?’ She hesitated, her fork halfway to that delectable mouth of hers.
‘There you go, what did I say about not believing everything you hear on TV?’ He gave a snort of laughter. ‘To be fair, they did keep the location a secret, but I’m damned sure no-one said anything about Scotland. The only Scottish thing about here is Mrs McCaul and her full-on Edinburgh accent!’
‘Okay … ’ He watched Shea’s eyes widen, then her brows furrowed as she processed this nugget. ‘So where are we then?’
‘Classified information here, I hope you can be trusted. Edgerton is in the Cotswolds.’ He bit back his smile as he tried to contain his laughter.
‘Sorry. Not helpful.’ She shook her head and looked blank. ‘You’ll have to be more specific. Cotswolds doesn’t mean anything to me. Where’s it near?’
This he found hard to believe. Had to be a wind-up, but he’d play along. ‘Cirencester, Cheltenham, Gloucester?’ She still looked blank. He’d try something easier. ‘Oxford?’
She thought hard, scrunched her lip, shook her head. ‘Still not helpful. Maybe if I saw it on a map?’
Brando stopped chewing, put down his knife and fork. This he found hard to believe.
‘What?’ Shea’s shriek was high and defensive. ‘So! I don’t have the geography gene! I can’t help it! I don’t know where anywhere is, unless I’ve been there, if I don’t see it on a map. We can’t all be perfect and know everything. I don’t have the history gene either come to that, but there are a lot of things I can do, and do very well, so back off!’
So Shea-what-do-you-say might have a great ass, but she didn’t have the first clue where she was, and what’s more she wasn’t trying to hide the fact, nor did she feel the need to apologise. Interesting combination. And boy did she look feisty when she did angry!
She lowered her eyes for a second, and when she looked up at him again it was with a half smile that spread to a wide grin. ‘When you warned me about getting lost in the house earlier, you were closer to the mark than you thought!’
Zap!
That smile caught him off guard, and smacked him square in the stomach.
‘I think we’ve done enough dining room penance for one day. I’ll get Mrs McCaul to serve pudding by the fire in my sitting room, and I’ll show you a map. We’ll be much cosier there.’
Jeez, had he really just said that!
He asked himself a) where that had come from and b) why the heck he’d used the word cosy. He never said cosy! It was like someone else was operating his mouth. Jeez again! He needed to stop panicking, remember this was his infallible instinct, working to push the situation to a quick conclusion. Hell, a frosty dining room was hardly conducive to the moves he had in mind, and he was aiming to get this whole thing over at break-neck speed. And there was something else he’d noticed. Sure this Shea was sexy enough, with her curves and lively nipples and splashy smiles, but he’d seen the way she flinched when he came anywhere near her, and he’d sensed a curious pent-up tension. Uptight didn’t begin to cover it. A quick tumble in the sack with a man with his taste for wild and wicked was just what was needed to send this woman running for the hills. See her off for good. Job done.
A sudden crush in his groin suggested his libido was in definite agreement.
* * *
Peach cobbler, egg custard, coffee and liqueurs. All in the comfort of the boss’s private sitting room. Cosy was his way of describing it. Too damned intimate was hers.
Shea wondered how she’d let it happen, which part of her active mind hadn’t been functioning. She could only blame the cold for her brain freeze.
Pudding in the snug would have been beyond the limit of her professional boundaries at the best of times. But peering over maps in flickering firelight, with a hunk who set her heart banging horribly every time his arm stretched across and grazed hers? That was in the way-out-of line category. Just the memory of it was enough to make her cringe with guilt. Thank goodness she’d had the sense to make a quick exit.
Back in the safe haven of her room, she stripped off her dress, dragged some shorts over her tights, and slipped one of the borrowed sweaters over her bra, definitely not because it smelled of raw man she assured herself, but because after an hour of wearing it, she was completely addicted to the softness and the warmth. As she pulled the pins out of her hair and dragged her curls into submission, she noticed her useless mobile on the coffee table. A phone call with her mum wasn’t going to happen tonight. No bad thing. She needed time to work out what the heck was going on here.
It wasn’t so much what she’d been doing, but how she was reacting. It should have been completely possible to have got through this evening in a detached, professional manner. Her work constantly put her into intimate environments with men. She regularly marched in, pulled some guy’s bedroom to pieces, put it all together again, and marched right on out. She’d always assumed her ability to freeze advances before they’d even happened was because of her past hanging around her like an invisible force field. That coupled with her ‘no-nonsense’ attitude. She’d worked alongside a whole bunch of clients with less than perfect reputations and had always sailed through unscathed.
Until now.
Which was why she knew the fault here was completely her own.
She’d never been remotely attracted to anyone she’d worked for before, and she’d worked for some very attractive men. But there was a world of difference between recognising that someone was hot, and the full-blown force of attraction itself. And right here it was full-blown force. And she needed to get a grip. Quickly.
Brando Marshall might be good looking, but in every other aspect he was a total nightmare – bad tempered, rude, arrogant, treating his long-term employees with very little respect, and he obviously despised her … Quite a list. Any attraction to him was wrong, wrong, wrong, not to mention crazy. Lucky she’d got a handle on it from the start. Now all she had to do was stamp it out. Starting now.
A sudden rap on her door jolted her to her feet, and set her heart pounding.
‘Shea, your mother’s on the landline for you!’ Brando’s voice rose gruffly over his knock, and sent her stomach into a cartwheel. ‘Take it in my sitting room, or my office if you prefer.’
Damn.
She hadn’t thought her mum would ring tonight, or that she’d be back in the lion’s den so soon, putting her new resolve to the test.
‘Mothers, who’d have them? Sorry about this!’ She shot him an apologetic grimace.
If she went at break-neck pace, if she didn’t look at him, didn’t stop, there wouldn’t be time for anything misplaced or wrong. She threw open the door, whipped past an open-mouthed Brando, and bolted into his sitting room. ‘My mum must be worried that she can’t get through on my mobile and … ’
Damn. She’d got ahead of him here. Now where should she go?
‘Straight on … ’ He arrived behind her, close enough to engulf her with that dangerously delicious scent she so shouldn’t be noticing, and waved an arm towards an open door on the other side of the room, beyond the sofas. She shot through it, and screeched to a halt.
Pink shrimps! She was in his bedroom!
Her heart did a double flip. She’d seen some imposing beds in her time but this one took the biscuit. She tried to ignore how inviting it looked.
His voice came from behind her now ‘ … straight on to the office – the phone’s on the desk.’
Could have been worse. She slammed up to the desk, and grasped the receiver. At least he wasn’t in the bed.
* * *
Brando stood