for fantasising about the unattainable.
For that was what Fleur was—he couldn’t dare let himself get close to her, for she was the epitome of every characteristic he’d schooled himself to avoid: brash, daring to be different, needing to break out of a mould. She was just like Sean and his father and he’d be damned if he ended up like them. Living for the moment ended in pain and he’d learned to block out anything—or anyone—that could instigate that emotion.
‘You need to have fun. I’m going to show you the ropes.’ She stood and gathered her bag and laptop. ‘Meet me out the front of this building at eight tomorrow morning. And wear something casual.’
He watched her stride towards the door, admiring her slim legs and the way her skirt hugged her butt, wondering how both would feel beneath his hands.
‘But tomorrow’s Saturday,’ he said, wondering if she thought he was such a sad case that they needed to get started on her plan immediately.
She stopped, hand poised on the doorknob. ‘So? Or would you prefer to start tonight?’
He glimpsed the challenge in her eyes, curious to know more and ready to face what she had in mind. ‘The sooner the better.’
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