shut her mouth and blinked at the rapid change in topic, her embarrassment at being caught with her guard down completely forgotten. Nematocysts, Chironex Fleckeri, statistical data—these were all things she could have answered questions on, had prepared to be questioned on. She hadn’t been prepared for him to pry into her personal life.
She raised her hand to her throat, reflexively stroking the material covering her neck, strengthened by its presence. ‘I…I don’t…socialise…outside of work hours.’
It was true. Anyone present would have confirmed it for Alex. She just wished it didn’t sound so…lame.
He quirked an eyebrow. She didn’t socialise inside of work hours either. ‘You are unhappy here? You don’t like your colleagues?’
His gaze bored into hers. How was it possible to have eyes that blue? She lowered her gaze. ‘I’m very happy here. I like them fine,’ she dismissed.
Alex eyed her thoughtfully. Her discomfort was palpable. ‘You have other plans? A date, maybe?’
Isobella frowned. ‘Certainly not,’ she said primly. Who did he think she was? Did he think she’d blow off a work function for a man?
Alex chuckled. She was so affronted he had no doubt she was telling the truth. ‘Well, in that case I’m going to have to insist.’
Alex’s husky laughter, even over a phoneline from a thousand kilometers away, had always managed to turn her insides to mush. But this close she felt sure she was going to melt into a puddle right at his feet. There was no way she could sit at a table and have dinner with him. In fact she planned to avoid him for the rest of the week.
‘Dr Zaphirides—’
‘Ms Nolan?’
Isobella saw the slight lifting at the corner of his mouth and a dimple almost took her breath away. Damn him—she would not let him charm her.
‘Alex. I’ve worked for you for two years. I’m here early every morning and I don’t clock off till way past my time. Are you displeased with my work?’
‘No.’
She almost sagged. His earlier criticism had left her with a nagging sense of insecurity. ‘Then I believe the time after I leave the lab is my own. To do with as I wish.’
Alex bowed. ‘But of course. Tonight, however, I’d like you to have dinner with me.’
Isobella knew he didn’t meant him personally. But his cerulean eyes had a way of making her think she was the only person in the room. And he was so close, his wild honey and cut grass aroma wrapping her in a seductive web.
She opened her mouth to protest again, but he cut her off. ‘Isobella.’
She felt goosebumps feather her skin as he elongated the vowel at the end of her name as he had done so often on the phone, his husky voice and slight accent a deadly combination.
‘We are a team. It’s a rare event to have us all together. We have made great progress towards our goals. I think a little team-building and a pat on the back for everyone is warranted once in a while. It’s my thank-you to you all for keeping my Brisbane lab running smoothly. It would spoil everyone’s evening not to have you there. You would do me a great service if you agreed to join us.’
Isobella doubted very much whether she would be missed. Oh, she knew she was respected for her work, but she doubted that anyone felt close enough to her to miss her socially. She had, after all, deliberately cultivated distance.
‘Please, Isobella.’
His rumbled request weakened her resistance. Surely she could manage a few hours out of her comfort zone in the real world? One night out couldn’t hurt, could it? She never went out. And the big boss had made a direct request. How churlish would it look to refuse his hospitality?
She became aware of how close they were standing. She took a step back and sucked in a deep breath. ‘Certainly, Alex,’ she acquiesced, with as much formality as she could muster. ‘If you insist. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to retrieve some documents from the printer.’
Alex inclined his head and watched her walk away, her back straight, her stride wooden, her reluctant acceptance rankling.
He should be pleased. So why did her I’d-rather-poke-myself-in-the-eye-with-a-sharp-stick demeanour bother him so much?
CHAPTER TWO
ISOBELLA got into the shower with an impending sense of doom. Damn Alexander Zaphirides and his ‘Please Isobellaaaaa’. Even now it washed over her as easily as the water sluicing over her skin, tightening her nipples, causing a heat down low that not even the cool shower could extinguish.
No, no, no. That was not why she had agreed to go out tonight. It had nothing to do with his husky request. Or the way he looked. Or his wild honey smell. It was strictly a business affair. Accepting his gesture of thanks as everyone else was. And he had insisted.
Thank God he was only here for the week, if this was how much havoc he’d created in just one day. On Friday he and Reg were going to the symposium in Cairns, and then he would be flying back to Melbourne.
She only had to get through the next few days.
Or she could take some sick leave—God knew she had a mountain of it. Plead a mysterious illness. The presentation was essentially complete, so her absence wouldn’t cause too much disruption.
She switched off the tap hard and dried herself briskly. Who was she kidding? Her? Off work for a few days? She never took time off. She hadn’t had a single sick day in her time with Zaphirides Medical Enterprises. Not even last winter, when she’d caught a really bad flu and had felt like death warmed up. Hell, she hadn’t pulled a sickie—ever. Taking a few days off would cause an immense stir.
She was just going to have to get through the week as best she could. Her infatuation with him was ridiculous. There was absolutely no point getting herself into a dither over a man that she was never going to have. She’d resigned herself to her asexual existence many years ago, and no one had ever tempted her out of her self-imposed celibacy. She wasn’t about to let a man who looked as if he could have his pick of beauties ruin her hard-won reputation.
Isobella wrapped the towel around her, anchoring it under her arms, and wandered into her room. She felt edgy and stared at the clothes in her wardrobe, wondering what the hell she was going to wear. Damn it, she never thought about what she had to wear any more. She had a cupboard full of high-necked garments, and she usually just put her hand in and picked one.
But then she hadn’t gone out socially in years with anyone outside her family. And she never had to give too much thought to what she wore to work. Loose and comfortable were essential, and it was always covered by her white coat anyway. Fashion just didn’t come into it.
The fact that she always dressed to hide and camouflage her figure and that tonight she was thinking purely of fashion made her restless and annoyed. She was suddenly thinking of all the beautiful outfits she’d worn in the past. In another life. Coveting them and that time as she hadn’t in years. Why? So she could attract Alexander Zaphirides?
A man whose abrupt, dispassionate dismissal of
