sickening disgust deep inside her. What a bastard, she told herself. Yes, he was attractive. Even now her body, traitor that it was, virtually hummed with recognition, remembering his touch as if it were an imprint on her skin.
She drained her glass and set it back on the table with a sharp clunk. Attractive meant nothing whatsoever if it didn’t come packaged along with a few other necessities to make up the man. Necessities like integrity, honesty and reliability—just to name the basics. Ali briefly closed her eyes and searched deeply for the inner strength she needed to get through this meeting as quickly and efficiently as possible. It galled her to even have to breathe the same air he was.
She pitied his poor wife, and the baby as well. They both deserved better. Ali quietly resolved to get this contract over with fast. She didn’t want to find herself face-to-face with the new mother, not with the guilt she was now forced to bear, hanging like a yoke around her shoulders.
“Right,” she said as she opened her eyes again. “Perhaps you could show me the room that will be the baby’s nursery so I can take some measurements.”
“Sure,” Ronin said, his eyes never leaving her face as he stood. “It’s upstairs. Come with me.”
Ali rose to her feet and followed him from the room. As he ascended the staircase in front of her, she tried not to let her gaze linger on how the finely woven fabric of his trousers skimmed his taut behind, or to notice how the crisp fresh scent of his cologne subtly trailed in his wake. Every breath of him reminded her of the one sinfully exquisite night they’d spent together. Night? No, it hadn’t even been that. It had been no more than a few hours, she reminded herself. And she wasn’t entitled to reflect on the memory of those hours now that she knew the truth behind his oh-so-alluring facade. Ronin Marshall was a married man and, therefore, completely off limits.
“There are several bedrooms upstairs. The nannies will have the guest suite at the far end at their disposal. It’s fully equipped with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a sitting room and a kitchenette.”
Ali just nodded. It wasn’t unusual for her wealthier clients to employ a nanny, although it definitely sounded as if he was talking in terms of more than one.
Ronin continued down the hall and pushed open the door into a spacious and airy bedroom. “I thought this room next to the guest suite would be best as a nursery.”
She looked around, taking in the high-quality furnishings that already filled the room. “Do you want to keep anything that’s already in here? The bed, perhaps?”
“Will the baby need any of it?” he asked with a helpless expression in his eyes.
Ali fought back the urge to sigh. Hadn’t he paid any attention during his wife’s pregnancy? Surely he should know the very basics of what their own child required.
“Not right away, no,” she said, controlling her voice so her disapproval wouldn’t shine through. “I’d like to keep the bureau in here.” She ran a hand over the provincial French chest of drawers. “But the rest can go into storage. The sooner the better, so I can get painters and paper hangers in here within the next couple of days.”
“You have people who can come in that quickly?”
She arched a brow. “There are always people who can come in that quickly when the price is right.”
He nodded. “That’s good. I’ll see to it that the furniture is out of here tomorrow. Do what you have to do.”
“That’s what you’re paying me for,” she answered, digging into her bag for her laser tape measure.
It only took a moment to record the dimensions of the room and the window. Together with the ideas she’d begun to dream up as she’d waited in the front portico her mind was brimming with enthusiasm. If only the client wasn’t such a dirty, rotten, philandering creep, she’d be relishing this job. Instead, she couldn’t wait to get back to the office and hand it off to Deb.
“Right,” she said, with a brightness she was far from feeling. “I think that’s everything. We’ll be in touch.”
“That’s it?” he asked.
“For today.”
“Okay, then.” For a minute he looked nonplussed, but then his brow cleared. “Will you stay a while? Talk with me about the steps you’ll be taking? I know I’m off to a late start, but I want to understand the task ahead, and what I can do to help it along.”
“Mr. Marshall—” she started.
“Ronin. At least you can call me Ronin.”
She pressed her lips into a line and sharply shook her head. “I need to get back and get the ball rolling on this so we don’t waste any time.”
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a message straightaway. I shouldn’t have—”
“Please, that’s not necessary. I’ll see myself out.”
She couldn’t stay there another minute and hear his empty platitudes or even ponder at the gall of him to make them. Nothing would change the truth. She’d done the unthinkable—slept with a married man—and he’d done the unforgivable in betraying his wife, and making Ali party to that betrayal. Ali moved quickly out of the room and down the stairs. Behind her, Ronin’s heavier tread was muffled by the carpet. He beat her to the door. With one hand on the ornate brass handle he faced her and offered her the other.
“Thank you for coming out. I do really appreciate you taking this on. Right now we have too many other things to focus on.”
“Yes, well, this is what we’re good at, so you can rest assured the baby will get the best of everything possible.”
She steeled herself to take his hand, determined to keep their physical contact to a minimum. It made no difference. Palm against palm, their touch all but sizzled. She quickly pulled away and walked through the open doorway to her car. He stepped out onto the portico and watched her leave—not moving back inside, she noted through the rearview mirror, until she was a good distance from the house.
It was so unfair, she thought as she drove through the iron gates and turned left onto Whitford-Maraetai Road. How could he have been so...so everything and so nothing all at the same time? Clearly she needed to hone her inner lie detector some more. First her husband, now this guy. What kind of message was she inadvertently transmitting to the universe that caused her to attract men for whom fidelity was a negotiable bond?
She might never know the answer to that, she told herself as she whipped along the road back toward the motorway interchange. But there was one thing she definitely knew—and that was that Ronin Marshall, and men like him, had no place in her life.
Ever.
Two days later Ronin pushed open the door to Best for Baby and decisively rang the silver-and-crystal bell at the abandoned reception desk. Abandoned, no doubt, because he’d been fobbed off with the receptionist while Alison Carter hid from him here at her office.
He rarely lost his temper. In fact, he was known for being cool under pressure. But this had
