nothing about Spencer Chatsfield was exclusive. He’d had numerous lovers before her and numerous ones after. He enjoyed the chase. He wasn’t interested in building a bond with a lover, taking it to the next level of commitment. He was always on the go for a new challenge, a new focus. That’s why he had pushed and pushed to gain The Harrington. It was a prize, a trophy he wanted. Like she had been.
He put the paperweight down and met her gaze. ‘How about you show me your best assets?’
She gave him a cutting look. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
His expression was guileless. ‘What am I doing?’
Isabelle compressed her lips until they hurt. ‘It won’t work. I’m not that silly little fool you deliberately set out to seduce ten years ago.’
His eyes went to her mouth, and then back to her eyes, something softening in the hard planes of his face as if he was remembering what they had shared. ‘I never thought you were a fool.’
She tried not to notice how deep and gravelly his voice had become. How his eyes had darkened to a deep inky blue, how his mouth looked so firm and yet so sensually contoured her own lips ached to feel their pressure against them. The primal need he aroused in her was frightening. Why couldn’t she control her response to him? Just being in his presence stirred her senses into mania. She became aware of every area of her flesh he had touched in the past, as if being in his presence activated sensors like a tracking device. She could smell the lime notes of his aftershave with its understory of something woodsy and clean and cool and fresh with the sharp tang of outdoors. He’d shaved that morning, but even so she could see the tiny pinpricks of stubble along his jaw and surrounding his mouth. She’d felt that sexy rasp against her skin, the way it had teased her flesh, catching on her softness, reminding her of all that was different between them.
Isabelle gave herself a mental shake-slap-shake. She had to stop thinking about the past and concentrate on here and now. He didn’t want her. He wanted her hotel. He was playing with her, luring her in with that deadly Chatsfield charm. She knew exactly what he was thinking. How much more malleable and cooperative would she be if she was in his bed? He would seduce her senseless to get her to sign anything, to agree to anything, in that dazed state of slavish infatuation she had demonstrated in the past. Before she knew it he would have reinvented her hotel into some lurid facsimile of a Chatsfield hotel. The Chatsfields were synonymous with style, spectacle and scandal. The Harrington’s reputation as an elegant and luxurious haven would be desecrated.
She straightened her shoulders. ‘I’ll get the duty manager to show you around the hotel.’
‘I want you.’
Isabelle upped her chin. How did he manage to make three words sound so blatantly sexual? ‘I have a prior engagement.’
Searing heat passed from his gaze to hers. ‘Cancel it.’
She gave him an arctic glare. ‘What are you going to do if I don’t? Fire me?’
The edge of his mouth lifted as if he was amused at having that sort of power over her. Isabelle didn’t find it amusing. She found it nauseating. ‘I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you what I want to do with you,’ he said with an enigmatic smile.
Her face flooded with heat. It was the one thing she prided herself on—maintaining her cool composure—and yet with a single look he could melt her resolve like a blowtorch on butter. Getting away from him before she betrayed herself was top priority. ‘Don’t you realise there are laws regarding sexual harassment in the workplace?’ she said.
His eyes studied hers for a pulsing moment. ‘Are you dating anyone?’
‘Yes.’ The lie was easy. Providing evidence would be the kicker. Isabelle did a quick run-through of her contacts. Surely there was someone she could call on to pose as a standin date. If not, she would try Internet dating. One way or the other she would find someone. How hard could it be?
If he was disappointed in her answer he certainly didn’t show it. ‘When will you be back from your appointment?’
‘Why?’
‘I’d like to run through some ideas with you.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of ideas?’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘Anyone would think I had a bulldozer waiting at the front door to plough down the place as soon as your back was turned.’
She gave him a hardened look. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. There isn’t a lot of subtlety about your methods.’
His crooked smile made something inside her chest tighten so she couldn’t inflate her lungs. ‘I’ll meet you in my office at five p.m. There are other things I have to see to first.’
‘Fine.’ Isabelle gave his legs a pointed look. ‘Do you mind?’
He pulled them back towards the desk and waved a hand for her to pass. ‘After you.’
She eyeballed him. ‘I’m not leaving you alone in my office.’
‘What?’ The twinkling look was back in his eyes. ‘Do you think I’m going to go through your drawers?’
Isabelle blushed so hotly she could feel it prickling over her scalp. She sucked in a breath and made to go past him but he stood just as she did. He towered over her, his body so close to hers she could feel the warmth of it radiating towards her like the glow of a sun lamp.
He grazed the back of her tightly clenched hand with a lazy fingertip. ‘Isn’t it time we quit with the pistols-at-dawn routine? We’re batting for the same team now.’
Isabelle pulled her hand back close to her body and glared at him, her lips so tight she could barely spit the words out. ‘I despise everything about you. This is nothing but a game to you. You’ve deliberately set out to gain the advantage, working in the background using whatever means you could to outwit me. But I’m not giving up without a fight. You might control the majority share but you can’t control me.’
His eyes blazed back, the first sign she had nettled his cool control. ‘That’s rich coming from you. Who was the one who tried to undermine me by using their friend to get the scoop on my brother James? But that spectacularly backfired, didn’t it?’
Isabelle gave a cough of scornful laughter. ‘And what about you? Getting your brother Ben to pretend to be engaged to my sister to drum up a press fest? But that didn’t work out quite the way you planned, did it? He and Olivia fell in love for real.’
‘More fool them.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s exactly what you would say, isn’t it? You’re the “use them and lose them” type.’
‘Damn it, Isabelle,’ he said. ‘I did not use you.’
She drew herself up to her full height, giving him a fulminating glare. ‘How much did you win?’
His savage frown made him appear older than his thirty-four years. ‘Look, it was a silly joke between a couple of mates. It was crass and I’m sorry you found out about it.’
Isabelle’s eyes flared in outrage. ‘You’re sorry I found out about it? How about being sorry for actually
