grinned. ‘My dog, Edison. He’s a Border Collie… You’re in such a hurry to label me, aren’t you?’
A dog? Sheesh. She pushed back her fringe, tucking it behind her ear, feeling the annoying heat in her cheeks. ‘You can’t say you haven’t labelled me.’
‘That’s true,’ he said softly, his gaze coursing over her.
Her blood heated at the thought of what the label was… She didn’t want to know, or think about it. ‘I have goldfish myself. Low maintenance,’ she blurted. ‘I did think of getting a cat but then she would have eaten Bert and Ernie, the fish, and although they don’t fetch sticks, papers or shoes they do listen very patiently when I get home and need to—’
She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth in an attempt to still it. Was she babbling?
‘Please, don’t stop.’
She lifted her burger and took a large bite, filling her mouth with food instead of a plethora of personal stuff that had no business in her mouth, let alone pouring out.
What was wrong with her?
He watched her.
She chewed, swallowed and sighed. Was it her horoscope messing with her again? ‘You’re a Leo, right?’
‘Sagittarian, I’m told. You?’
‘Puzzled at how you came to WWW Designs. I didn’t see you come in for an interview for the position and I see most people who come to the floor, not because I’m a busybody or anything, just that my view is of the lift—’
Case swallowed his mouthful. ‘I noticed.’
‘And?’
He shrugged as though it wasn’t important. ‘I was out-sourced. Head-hunted. Appropriated by Ms Wilson. I think you’re right, by the way. She does seem in need of a good—’
‘Mr Darrington…’ she rushed in ‘…you must have met Raquel previously, then, for her to get such a good impression of you to go and steal you from another firm—which one, by the way? One of our rivals?’
He smiled at her. ‘I met her…at a…party.’
She was getting nowhere. The man wasn’t giving much away at all! Tahlia leant close. ‘Are you the enemy?’
‘No.’ His mobile rang. ‘Sorry, but I have to get it.’ He pulled the small handset from his belt. ‘Yes… Hello, Simon, everything okay…? Oh…right.’ He glanced at Tahlia, then swung to one side of his chair, gazing at his shoes. ‘It’s not exactly a good time… Fine. I’ll try… Go ahead with that… No, not yet on that… I’ll get back to you regarding that… Okay… Yes… Look, I’ll talk to you later.’
He grinned sheepishly at her, putting the mobile phone down. ‘Where were we?’
Tahlia took another mouthful of her lunch, forcing the chicken down her tight throat. Whatever that had been about…she didn’t like it. ‘What was that? Were you picking horses?’
She mentally prayed. Let him be a gambler, let him be an alcoholic gambler, let him be an alcoholic reckless gambler. That would prove to Raquel what a terrible mistake she’d made.
He shook his head. ‘No.’
Tahlia stared at him. ‘So it would be—?’
He smiled at her, shrugging. ‘Companies.’
‘So Simon is your broker?’ she asked slowly, trying to match it to what she’d heard. It could have been, but something didn’t quite fit.
‘For someone professing not to be a busybody you ask a lot of questions.’
‘Self-preservation.’
‘Oh?’
She took a sip of her water. ‘I like to know what I’m getting into, in the office, with the new boss,’ she stumbled, the words sounding too…suggestive.
‘Oh?’ he murmured deeply.
She put her drink down, taking a breath. ‘And you haven’t told me one thing that supports the fact that you’re any way qualified for the job,’ she said in a rush. ‘Or that your personality would complement the working environment or that there’s anything about you that doesn’t scream silver-spoonfed life, apart from your dog.’ And that smile, and those eyes and that deep warm voice.
‘Lucky you weren’t the one hiring, then.’
She glared at the man opposite, but he was focused on his meal, carefully avoiding her gaze.
Tahlia finished her salad, forcing the food down on to a stomach busy doing somersaults at his every sapphire glance. This wasn’t the plan.
She wiped her hands on a serviette and arranged the cutlery carefully on her plate. She was getting nowhere. ‘Look, I represent the busybodies of the office and I demand some incredibly personal information that I can share with them that will ensure that you’re not only human but approachable, sensible and on-the-whole nice.’
She crossed her fingers under the table. If that wasn’t an invitation for him to arrogantly sing his praises and convince her once and for all that he was exactly who she hoped he was, then she didn’t know what was.
He stared at her.
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
Visions of his firm, sensual lips smothering hers rocked through her, setting alight every nerve that hadn’t already realised he was sitting barely a metre from her.
Hmm, a kiss. That would be personal all right, but not something she could share with the office… She shook herself. Or wanted. She didn’t want his mouth on hers, at all, ever.
She dropped her gaze to his mouth, which was firm and enticing.
Kissing the boss would prove that he was a playboy, after short skirts and a good time and not focused on the company’s best interests…
Was a kiss what he was thinking of or was she being stupid?
He jerked to his feet. ‘You don’t think I’m human? Approachable? Nice?’ he asked, dropping some money on to the table to cover the meal.
She sucked in a long slow breath, rising from her seat. ‘Nothing you’ve said or done suggests any of the latter,’ she said in a rush.
‘I’ve answered every question…’ he offered, turning and walking to the door.
She nodded. He had, as easily and openly as though he were just any other guy, but she knew he wasn’t… There was something that didn’t add up with Case Terrorising Darrington.
‘I’ve just had a very pleasant lunch with you…’ He opened the coffee shop door and held it open for her, watching her with steady blue eyes.
‘Ye-es,’ she managed, striding through the door, smoothing down her skirt,
