nothing wrong with planning, Nate.’
‘Sure. But that’s what I pay someone else to do. I see you’re still a walking-talking stationery cupboard. You haven’t got a smartphone app for all this?’
‘I prefer hard copy. It’s easier if you can see it all laid out.’
‘It’s easier if I don’t see it at all.’ Planning in minutiae had always been Sasha’s way of coping after her father’s death—of ensuring the ordered life and stability she’d wanted. He used to think her organisational OCD was quirky and endearing, the way she’d carry her diary around religiously and check things, plan. If it hadn’t been for her management skills he wouldn’t have secured the gigs and the subsequent recording contract.
Their whole future had been mapped out at one point, down to the number of kids they were going to have, and when. He’d had a lucky break there, he’d always thought, when it was over.
Whereas Cassie—she’d always been happy-go-lucky, life’s too short sort. Far too scatty for his liking. And serious Suzy, the eldest, had just put her head down and worked hard to protect them all. Three girls hit in different ways by one tragedy.
Then it occurred to him that the gents’-toilet fiasco would have pretty much killed Sasha. Her plans gone awry, then finding herself in his car. All out of her control. She liked to play safe.
And he didn’t.
She looked so enthusiastic about her files he decided to indulge her. What did a few more minutes matter? ‘Okay, sweet thing, hit me with it. And if I nod off, then, literally, hit me with it.’
An eyebrow peaked. ‘Aww, your poor addled rock-star brain can’t handle a few simple facts and figures?’
‘Hey, I can handle anything you throw at me. Numbers, forecasts, projections. Do your worst.’ He stretched his arms out and clicked his fingers. ‘Bring it on.’
‘You know your problem? You’re all talk.’
‘What, and no action? That’s a dangerous gauntlet you’re throwing at me. You’d want to be very careful.’ He held her gaze, wondering what she’d do if he just leaned in and covered that mouth with his. Would she drop the brisk schoolteacher act? Would she kiss him back?
The vibe tugged and tightened.
‘Just an observation.’ She swallowed. ‘And, according to Cassie, careful is my middle name. Now listen.’ Laughing nervously, she kicked off her shoes, shuffled up against the arm of the couch and faced him, fingertips running over the lines of ink. Making a good pretence that the heat in the room hadn’t just hit scorching point. ‘We have to cover the cost of train fares, hotels, my supply-teacher salary for a couple of days...I’ve broken it down into individual child cost, just for ease, so each one has a personal target to aim for...’
All he could see was page after page of graphs and squiggly lines. Her voice rose and fell in her schoolteacher voice as, head dipped, she focused on every darned detail.
But it gave him a chance to watch her, the tight swallow at her throat as she spoke, the tap of her toes. His gaze tiptoed up her legs, to the folds in her skirt, the tight cinch of her waist. He remembered how his hands had fitted around that waist ten years ago. Looked as if that couldn’t happen now—but he liked her filled out a little.
His foolish heart tripped as his eyes travelled up the swell of her breast to her neck, the curve of her lips. And he realised she was frowning.
‘Nathan? I said, are we done?’
Before he could stop himself he reached out and tilted her chin so he could see her eyes again. The heat there lit a fire in his gut and he was hit with a sudden need to know if her lips tasted just the way he remembered. ‘Hell, Sasha, I don’t know. Are we?’
FOUR
So this is where you leave.
Sasha stared up into those honeyed eyes, hazy now with only one thing. One unmistakable thing: desire. A shiver of excitement, and fear, tripped down her spine as heat pooled low in her abdomen. An energy buzzed around them, dancing and jumping with every second he held his fingers against her skin. Suddenly, leaving wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
He wasn’t supposed to want her. And she sure as heck wasn’t supposed to want him back. This was a working relationship. Strictly platonic. Strictly professional.
Strictly temporary.
Edging away from his hands, she fixed a smile she hoped was distinctly non-sensual. Even though she sure as heck felt the most sensual she’d felt in aeons. ‘I think that’s all I needed to tell you. Questions?’
‘None. As always, you’re very thorough. Very...impressive.’ Judging where his eyes were scrutinising now, she got the feeling Nathan wasn’t talking about the reams of paper in her hands or the hours she’d spent on the spreadsheets.
And if he just leaned in a few more inches...
If she leaned forward...
Oh, hell. Seriously? She wanted to kiss him? She fought for a breath.
Maybe it was the champagne lulling her into a false sense of...insecurity? Because there was nothing secure about the way her heart hammered or her legs weakened. Or the way he was looking at her with possession written all over his beautiful face.
She tore her eyes from his gaze, but they flatly refused to leave his face. Instead, she drank in the thick dark lashes, sculpted cheekbones and strong stubbled jaw. Everything about him screamed confidence, strength, sex appeal.
But more than that, he’d agreed to help her, at a huge personal cost. He’d given her time to go through the details when she knew he probably didn’t give a damn, indulging her for no one’s benefit but her own.
That just about blew off the assumptions that he was a selfish sex-crazed raiser. Who knew there was a softer side too? Strident. Complicated, not one dimensional like his media persona.
For goodness’ sake, where did he get off being kind? And where did that leave her?
Captivated? Hot. Yes, too hot. And aching to feel the press of his mouth on hers.
When she spoke her voice was shaky. ‘Why did you invite me over when we could have talked all this through on the phone?’
‘Direct as ever. I wanted to see you.’ The spark in his eyes swirled with confusion now.
‘And what Nate Munro wants, Nate Munro gets, right?’
‘Usually.’ He shrugged. ‘I just had a...feeling about you. Your last entrance made quite an impression. I wondered what you could possibly do for an encore, but I wasn’t expecting spreadsheets. Women usually employ other techniques to get me to do things with them.’ He laughed. ‘You’re definitely one of a kind.’
That was new—no one ever had feelings about her. She tried hard to be unobtrusive and not draw attention to herself. Fighting the heat whooshing through her now, making her unsteady and unsure, she swallowed deeply through a dry throat. ‘A feeling?’
‘Yes, I don’t know. A hunch.’ But he clearly didn’t want to elaborate. For a man famous for heavy, heart-on-your-sleeve rock ballads that wooed the world’s women, he kept way too much wrapped up inside when it mattered. ‘Why did you agree to come if we could have just talked it through on the phone?’
‘Cassie made me. Suzy, of course, would have a fit if she knew I was here.’ And no way was she going to admit the guy had been burning a hole in her brain for twenty-four hours.
‘Suzy. Suzy.’ He shook his head, his mouth kicking up into a rueful half-smile. ‘So forthright and ardent and so...righteous. How many times did she warn you off me?’
‘Too many to count.’ It had been a battle of wills in the end: the more Suzy told her no, the more Sasha had said yes.