‘I want an explanation.’
It was his turn to laugh. ‘That’s all?’ But she didn’t look equally amused. In fact a worry line had appeared between her brows, and she glanced again at her screen.
‘Tonight has been planned and re-planned, checked and double-checked. I want to know how you’re here, and how I didn’t know about it.’
He wanted that line gone. Wanted any evidence of discomfort wiped from her face. He still wanted to make her laugh.
‘I’ll tell you everything. Every dark secret and trick of the conman’s trade.’ He raised his eyebrows, attempting melodramatic villainy, and was rewarded with a lift at the corner of her lips. ‘All you have to do is dance with me.’
* * *
Rachel rested her hand stiffly on his shoulder as they started to move to the music, wondering—again—why she had agreed to this. She let her gaze travel up from his collar, over a tanned throat, blond stubbled jaw and endearingly crooked nose. Up to a pair of eyes as blue as a baking summer sky, and then remembered.
Somewhere along the line, somewhere between guest list and dessert, her system had fallen short. He was probably standing in for someone—she had a shortlist of faces she’d been expecting to see but hadn’t. But how had she made it to eleven o’clock without realising something was wrong?
‘So,’ she prompted, trying to keep her mind on the job, rather than on the confident way Leo was leading her around the floor, or the scent coming from his skin. Something salty, natural and that had, she guessed, never been anywhere near a Selfridges counter.
She faltered for a second as she caught him looking at her, and felt her cheeks warming under the intensity of his interest. She stilled, suddenly hyperaware of the pressure of his hand around hers, of his arm at her waist, the sound of him breathing close to her ear. Only the subtle squeeze of his arm reminded her she was supposed to be dancing. Forcing her feet to move, she glanced over his shoulder and spotted her boss, Will, and for a moment she was worried she was about to be caught slacking. But one look at his face told her she had nothing to worry about. He had eyes only for Maya, his partner, and she smiled. She couldn’t help but take a little credit for the happiness that was radiating from them both. She was the one who’d engineered Will into taking a cookery course he wasn’t interested in, all because it was run by a woman he definitely was.
She’d watched that relationship blossom, from first meeting to their elation tonight, and felt a little pang of...what? Loneliness? No, that wasn’t it. She had friends—she’d even shared a flat with her best friend, Laura, until she’d bought her own place a year ago—right on track for her five-year plan. Sometimes she even managed to schedule time for a date or two.
But she didn’t have that, whatever it was that made it look as if half the light in the room were emanating from them.
So no, she wasn’t lonely, but maybe she was curious. Intrigued enough by the possibilities that when the surfy-looking blond who’d been casting looks in her direction all night had asked her if she wanted to dance, she’d looked him up and down and considered it.
And she’d been intrigued enough by what she’d seen to fight down the urge to tell him that this wasn’t in her schedule, but to send him a smile instead.
There wasn’t actually much left of her schedule tonight. That was the benefit of being chronically well organised, she supposed. When everything was planned and prepared in advance, she could just sit back and watch all the results of her hard work fall into place. Like with Will and Maya: the consequences of her plan had far exceeded her expectations, and she’d only had to intervene a couple of times to keep everything moving in the right direction. Better still, her boss had barely even noticed her involvement. The sign of a great executive assistant, she told herself. Her work was practically invisible.
She was so engrossed with watching the results of her meticulous planning she almost, almost, forgot where she was and what she was doing.
That was until a warm, rough fingertip found its way under her chin and tilted her face upward.
‘Should I be worried about the competition?’ Her eyes snapped back to his, and she was taken aback again by their intense colour, and the way he looked at her, as if there was some part of her he was trying desperately to see.
‘So who were you watching?’ he asked, reminding her of his question.
‘Jealous?’ She drew out the word with a smile, enjoying for a moment the control that it gave her. She didn’t even know yet what she wanted to do with this blatant expression of interest, other than enjoy it for a moment. ‘I’m just enjoying a plan coming together.’
‘You planned that?’ he asked, as her boss leant down and kissed Maya gently on the lips. The kiss itself was chaste enough, but the blatant bedroom eyes on both sides nudged it towards obscene.
‘I may have helped a little.’
‘Well, I prefer your attention here,’ he said, attempting to soften his words with a cheeky grin.
‘Demanding, much?’ Okay, so her attention wasn’t such a ridiculous thing to expect. But she didn’t want him thinking he could just demand what he wanted and expect her to deliver. And she still wasn’t sure how she felt about his attention. Attracted, sure. But meeting a party crasher with a cute smile and a devastating way of watching her hadn’t featured in her plans for tonight. She’d had no advance warning, no time to think about what she wanted to do.
‘Absolutely.’ He remained completely straight-faced and Rachel recognised the challenge. ‘But I think if you’re going to agree to dance with me, it’s only fair you give it your full attention.’
‘Perhaps. But you’re not holding up your end of the bargain. The dance was in exchange for an explanation. So spill. How did you get in without me knowing about it?’
‘Grappling hook,’ he replied, deadpan and with no hesitation. She let out a laugh, leaning back against his arm, letting the humour arch her body and soften her indignation.
He teased and she laughed, until she could feel the tension of the night leaching from her body. She’d not checked her watch since he’d led her to the floor, and she had no idea how long they’d been up there. And she was dangerously close to not caring. His humour, the naughty light in his eyes, was forcing the strain of preparing this evening from her limbs, demanding she enjoy herself. That she enjoy him. Eventually, when she’d laughed off his latest suggestion for how he’d joined the party—something about an international jewel thief—he leaned in close, until she could feel his warm breath disturbing her hair, and the minutest brush of his lips against her ear. With a little shiver, she suspected the time for games was coming to an end. ‘Someone asked me to attend on their behalf. I couldn’t say no. Are you going to throw me out?’
His reply prompted a hundred questions in her mind, but the one that sprang unguarded to her lips surprised even her: ‘Where would you go if I did?’
His lips parted slightly and he chose his words carefully, she guessed, not wanting to break the connection crackling like electricity between them. ‘That depends.’
Of course she was meant to ask ‘on what’, but the blatant suggestion in his eyes made her falter, suddenly aware they weren’t playing any longer.
‘Would you come with me?’ he asked, deadly serious. He had given up on the dancing, too, and his hand had drifted up to her cheek, his thumb skittering across her skin. She had pulled her gaze away, unable to bear the close scrutiny of those huge, clear blue eyes, but now it snapped back up as she took a little half step away from him.
‘I can’t. I’m working.’ She didn’t even think before she spoke. The words came to her lips automatically as her heart rate spiked and her breath hitched. Her arms tensed where they rested against his body as she started to register the risk she’d taken coming up here with him. This man