The Inconvenient Laws of Attraction. Trish Wylie

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      Resisting the addition of a congratulations, she opened her file, made a note, snapped it shut and left the door. Blake turned away from the window and followed her into the hall, his mood improving by the second.

      ‘Hold off on the sale of a jet. Apart from the Mile High possibilities, we might need it when we go to look at the overseas properties.’

      She swung around to face him. ‘You never said anything about taking trips overseas.’

      ‘Is your passport out of date?’

      ‘That’s not the point.’ She frowned as he closed the gap between them. ‘I can’t drop everything and go jetting around the world with you so you can spend five minutes looking at each of the places you’re planning on selling.’

      ‘Who says I’m planning on selling them?’

      ‘Aren’t you?’

      ‘Depends.’

      ‘On what?’ She arched a brow as she looked into his eyes. ‘Whether or not they look like something thrown together from a tsar’s yard sale?’

      The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘Meaning you think it’s more than a little over the top. Could you live here?’

      ‘No,’ she admitted reluctantly.

      ‘What would you do with it?’

      She sighed again. ‘Sell it to someone who could.’

      ‘Uh-huh.’ He nodded.

      When he stepped into her personal space, she lifted the file and hugged it against her breasts like a shield. Glancing away, she held her breath for a moment before sizing him up from the corner of narrowed eyes. ‘You want to look at every property, no matter where it is?’

      ‘Maybe.’

      ‘Do you have any idea how many properties you own overseas?’

      ‘Is there a prize if I get it right?’

      ‘It could take weeks to visit all those countries.’

      ‘On a tight schedule, are we?’

      Cocking her head, she came back with, ‘You tell me.’

      Closing his thumb and forefinger over the file, Blake tugged and watched her reaction when the instinctive tightening of her hold caused the backs of his fingers to brush against the skin between the lapels of her jacket. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes darkening a shade. But when he smiled in response, she let go of the file and lifted her chin in defiance.

      The woman had a unique way of looking at him: As if she was hinting heavily she could drop him to his knees with very little effort and he was lucky he was still upright. It was one heck of a turn-on for a man whose personal preference ran to strong-willed women. They were right up there with women whose confidence in their abilities added to their sex appeal and who knew what they wanted in the bedroom and weren’t afraid to demand it. She’d find he could be very accommodating with the latter. He might not stick around long enough for anything to get complicated but when he took a lover there was no question in her mind he was one hundred per cent with her.

      He took a great deal of pride in that.

      Turning his upper body to make room, he opened the file and pretended to read the contents. ‘You want to tell me what the real problem is?’

      ‘Meaning?’

      The way Blake saw it, it was one of two things. ‘Either you hate the idea of taking an all expenses paid trip around the world—’ which didn’t seem likely ‘—or you hate the idea of taking that trip with me.’ Closing the file, he turned and lowered his voice. ‘Worried about breaking your mixing business with pleasure rule if you spend more time with me?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘No?’ he challenged softly.

      While tapping the spine of the file with the palm of his hand, his gaze wandered over her face. The arch of her brows, the length of darkly spiked lashes, the sparkle of warning in her eyes—she really was something.

      ‘There’s a reason that rule exists,’ she said tightly.

      ‘Office romance gone bad?’

      ‘That would be none of your business.’

      ‘Married, huh?’

      There was a small noise that almost sounded like a growl. ‘You are the most—’

      ‘I’ve been told.’

      ‘You really don’t care what people think, do you?’

      It was said as if it was a completely alien idea to her, something Blake found telling. Appearances mattered, judging by the number of times she straightened the endless selection of suits that had to be hell to wear during the heatwave they were experiencing, but it went deeper than fashion. Her personality was adjusted according to the demands of her profession, even if it meant suppressing what she thought and felt—the latter explaining why she’d been able to follow his rules for as long as she had when Blake wouldn’t have lasted five minutes.

      ‘Does it matter?’ he asked.

      ‘If you care?’

      ‘What people think …?’

      She frowned. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Why?’

      Long lashes flickered as she looked over his shoulder and considered her answer. ‘Because the attitude we project tends to influence the attitude we receive in return.’

      A hint aimed at him, no doubt.

      Blake laid the file against her breasts when she looked into his eyes again. ‘Then maybe you should try being nicer to me.’

      Her mouth opened then closed, her lips pressed together to stop herself from saying what she thought.

      Time for a little prodding. ‘Know what I think?’

      She took the file. ‘I’m sure I’m about to.’

      ‘I think frustration makes you testy.’

      The hand holding the file snapped down to her side. ‘If I’m testy it might have more to do with the fact you’re hardly the easiest person in the world to work with.’

      ‘Work for.’ When she turned and headed for the stairs, Blake followed at a leisurely pace. ‘You’re really struggling with that part of the arrangement, aren’t you?’

      ‘I’m not used to winging it,’ she announced in a voice that echoed down the hallway. ‘Did it occur to you if you told me what it is you’re thinking of doing with all this money, I could plan ahead?’

      ‘Lack of organisation СКАЧАТЬ