‘I’m sure you’ll find just what you’re looking for in the Gulf.’
For the briefest moment, Mitch had the eerie feeling that there was something deeply prophetic about her words—as if he would actually find something much more meaningful than a location for his film. He blinked and shook his head. Grace might be clever, but she could not see into the future. Working overtime on top of jet lag could produce the weirdest sensations.
He smiled at her. ‘You understand what I’m looking for, don’t you?’
‘I—I think so.’ Perhaps he was staring too intently. Her cheeks grew pinker and she looked away for a moment.
‘This industry is a dog-eat-dog world. And filming at a great location will give my movie the kind of competitive edge I need.’
She seemed to recover, giving a little shake, and as she spoke she met him once more with a level gaze. ‘As I understand it, you’re hoping to create a kind post-World War III scenario—a world where the people who are left will start all over again. The old world is lost or contaminated except for this small section of land and it is pure and unpolluted. So you want something isolated—pristine, untouched.’
Mitch jumped to his feet. ‘That’s exactly what I’m looking for. It’s great that you understand. And that’s why you’ll be coming with me.’
The look of horror that swept across her features shocked him. He hadn’t expected opposition from someone so deeply involved with the film.
‘You’ll help me check out the locations, of course.’
‘Oh, no. I can’t. I—I can’t possibly,’ she stammered.
‘Why not?’ He’d set his mind on having her with him. Her knowledge, the research she’d already undertaken, was invaluable.
‘I have so much to do.’ Her hands were twisting nervously in her lap. She looked so frightened, Mitch wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. What kind of a man did she think he was?
‘I’m the boss, Grace. I know exactly what you have to do. And I know you can spare the time for this trip.’
What had he done wrong to upset her so badly? How could she be so keen one minute and then suddenly back off as if he’d turned into a ghoulish monster? Mitch paced the length of her fashionable hand-woven rug. Caught up with the positive tone of her report, he had come tonight with the expectation that Grace would see it as her professional duty to accompany him—no matter what her personal hang-ups were. And now he was prepared to be as stubborn as was necessary.
He wasn’t leaving until she said yes.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘GRACE, I’m offering you a chance to get out of the office—to get away in the outback and to really explore this project with me. How could you refuse?’
‘By saying no!’ she snapped, and leapt to her feet. She was incensed by Mitch’s arrogant assumption that she’d give her eye-teeth to slip away with him. ‘I realise that’s probably a new experience for you, Mr Wentworth.’
He shot her a startled glance, before throwing his head back and releasing a quiet chuckle. ‘Of course I’ve had my share of rejections, Ms Robbins.’
Mitch eyed her shrewdly while he paced her floor and Grace felt like a witness in the dock about to be cross-examined. There was a long, awkward silence before he spoke again. ‘Would we be talking about relationships here? The man-woman kind? Or are we talking about business and the world at large?’
She didn’t answer, but when he retaliated by crossing the short strip of matting towards her Grace held her breath, desperately willing her heart to stay calm and wishing that she could think of a smart retort that would stop him in his tracks. In spite of all the warnings her mind issued, her body started overreacting whenever this man got close. He must know the effect he had on women. He should be considerate and keep his distance.
‘Which Grace Robbins is rejecting my request?’ Mitch drawled softly, while he shook her report in her face. ‘The Grace who wrote this report wouldn’t hesitate to help check out these locations.’
Suddenly she was very unsure of her ground.
‘Is there something deeper going down here?’ Mitch frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps I was wrong to throw that magazine with your artwork in the bin and assume we could start afresh? Do you dislike me so much that you can’t bear to make this journey in my company?’
She shook her head, trying to convince herself that her protests were well-founded, but for the life of her Grace couldn’t articulate her objections. Surely she had good, solid, professional reasons to offer him beyond the pitiful fact that he was so sexy that her clear thinking, precise mind turned to candy floss when he was around? And now he expected her to go away with him!
Just the two of them!
Until now she had always been prepared to cooperate wholeheartedly with her employer. But her previous boss, George Hervey, had been a thoughtful and considerate, elderly gentleman. Working for him, she had always felt safe and sure of her role.
Now, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for her refusal, she couldn’t get her head past Mitch’s suggestion that her objections were more to do with how she felt about him than how she felt about her work.
Mitch was still spearing her with his dark gaze. ‘Would it make a difference if I promised Henry Aspinall not to lay a finger on you for the duration of the journey?’ he asked.
‘Henry?’ Her cheeks flamed. Why did he keep mentioning Henry? ‘Henry has nothing to do with this. He’s mistaken if he thinks we’re still…friends.’
‘Indeed?’ He considered her response for another uncomfortably long moment. ‘You look terrified. What is there to be afraid of?’
Mitch stepped forward and, with an assurance she was sure came from years of experience, reached out his hand to rest it lightly at the nape of her neck. Her skin grew hot beneath his touch and she fully intended to pull away. But, with the same ease that a bright flower attracts a giddy butterfly, he slowly drew her towards him and her good intentions melted. Her lips hovered just below his. ‘Is this what you’re frightened of, Grace?’
Her heart fluttered frantically.
There was no doubt he intended to kiss her.
And Grace also sensed at that moment, that if she cried out, or tried to beat Mitch Wentworth off with her fists, he would certainly let her go. She might have asked him to stop if she hadn’t been having such difficulty with her breathing, but instead she allowed him to close that last short gap.
As Mitch’s warm mouth settled over hers, a tiny sob escaped her and she felt him pull away slightly.
But she was already under his spell.
Her eyes were already closed and her face was tilted at a shamefully helpful angle. And, after that one brief touch of his lips, she was mentally begging him to taste her, to explore her mouth with his own. And when he did Grace sank against him as if she needed his strength.
There
