for you. I’ll even help you come up with a proper plan for after.’
Oh he was good; this man practically had a degree in planning. So good that as her mind began processing the permutations, she realised she was genuinely considering his offer. Suddenly all she could see were benefits. Like the fact that Mikey could enjoy some time with Janey without his little sister being in the way. Like the fact Jared wouldn’t have to face family he was so obviously estranged from alone. Like the fact she’d get good work experience and a reference and savings to kick-start her search for a job when she came home.
And yet, well, there was still the elephant in the room.
Honestly why she had to keep harping on about it she didn’t know, but she licked her lips and tried again. ‘About the kiss—’
Jared regarded her unflinchingly. ‘What about it? So the Code Red thing got a little out of hand. We’ll learn from it. The kiss was fun but misguided. It wasn’t us. We’re friends. That’s all.’
That’s all?
Of course that was all. Why would Jared want or need it to be anything else? Why did she, come to think of it?
If he could discount it so easily, and be so sure that it wouldn’t be an issue, why couldn’t she?
***
Jared looked up from his papers, realising he’d read through half a document and couldn’t recall the first thing about it. He was way too aware of his new Personal Assistant. She was sitting on the cream leather seat opposite him, chuntering delightfully to herself as she fiddled with the phone he’d casually thrown at her as they’d boarded the private jet bound for London.
‘Having trouble operating it?’ he asked with a smile on his face.
‘No, merely concerned about the trail of sobbing women we seem to have left behind. Every single call on this thing has been from women eager to know if you’re available. I think I’m going to have to set up some sort of helpline while you’re out of the country.’
His smile widened and an edge of wickedness crept in. ‘I may have given you my private phone by mistake.’
‘You have more than one?’ Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of surprise that he really oughtn’t to find so appealing. ‘What am I talking about? Of course you have more than one.’ She glanced about the jet’s interior, looking a little pale. ‘Please tell me you don’t have more than one of these babies?’
‘As it happens this one belongs to the family. But relax. It’s just stuff—’
‘Sure,’ she agreed with an exaggerated nod, ‘Stuff.’
‘There’s absolutely no reason to be intimidated. It’s a mode of transport. That’s all.’
‘Uh-huh. One beautiful pimped-up mode of transport.’
She ran her fingertip over the leather before reaching out to trace the walnut veneer of the drinks table. Why had he never noticed she had a tendency to drag her fingertip over different surfaces? It was as if nothing was real until she touched it. He found it disconcertingly sexy; seductive.
Idly, he wondered what he’d have to do to get her to drag a fingertip over him in such an exploratory way, then with a start realised he had absolutely, categorically, no business wondering any such thing. Her fingers moved into her sleek caramel-brown ponytail, stroking over the length of it. Suddenly parched, he reached for his scotch.
‘I guess I feel a little under-prepared,’ she said. ‘I mean, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know you were a successful businessman or that you worked hard and reaped the rewards. I’m just a little embarrassed I never realised how successful you were.’
‘I’m not where I want to be just yet.’ The words came automatically. He thought about the deal he was halfway through making. To leave at such a crucial stage irritated the hell out of him, but Nora’s second pitch had been perfect and to his astonishment he’d found himself changing his answer from a ‘no’ to a ‘yes’. It had to have been the shock of kissing Amanda.
Kissing Amanda.
Two words; one sentence, that had the power to throw him properly off kilter.
After the hell of Mikey’s accident and the guilt from knowing he was responsible, no matter what Mikey said … Amanda had continued to treat him the same way she always had. As if he had a clean sheet. It was addictive and liberating and, when he let himself actually think about it, selfish; down-to-the-bone selfish. And had him doubting she understood the luxury he found her company to be.
Amanda, whose sassiness challenged him, whose over-the-top disdain for his planned approach to life amused him.
But then he’d gone and returned her kiss.
He’d told himself he’d re-offered her the job as a way of compensating for her losing out on an interview that could have bettered her situation. He’d told himself that by persuading her to accept he’d be showing Mikey he could be trusted with her. He’d told himself over and over that the kiss had been a fluke. There was no possible way that someone, so opposite to him in outlook, could produce such a primal response from a place so deep inside of him he’d forgotten it even existed.
She’d made him feel like he’d come home.
What a joke. Home was a place he no longer deserved.
He turned his head to look out of the jet’s small window and beyond, through the thin layers of cloud, to the earth below.
He’d been given back the keys to The House of King but The Home of King? He’d be mad to think that was in the bricks and mortar of the forty-acre estate just outside of London. No, the true King home was the business premises of King Property Corporation—KPC headquarters in the heart of the City. When Nora had surrendered those clunky-as-hell keys during her deftly argued invitation, he had been more bewildered than he cared to admit.
It seemed the prodigal son was expected to ride to the rescue.
He felt the automatic grimace. Thinking about KPC and his father had him wound tighter than anything else ever could. No wonder thinking about Amanda was such a welcome distraction.
Taking another sip from the crystal tumbler he tried not to let his eyes slide over her legs. Instead, he dragged his gaze back to her button-brown eyes.
‘Like I said, this is just stuff.’ He paused. ‘I suppose I’d better warn you. London may be a little … more, than this.’
She whistled softly under her breath and looked around once more. ‘Okay. So essentially what you’re telling me is that I was a fool to turn down your, at the time insulting, but I now realise practical, offer of dressing me for this job, given that your family are rich and I’m about to look thoroughly out of place?’
‘What you have on is fine.’
More than fine. The simple royal-blue shift and matching heels transformed her into a sleek, confident career woman, who now looked way too grown up, way too sophisticated, way too hot and way too available. Somehow he thought he’d be safer if she was back in the usual gypsy-like clothes she wore. At least there’d be less smooth skin on show.
