doorbell rang and she glanced frantically around her neat house. Spotting her laptop in the corner she grabbed it and her leather carryall and headed for the door. Work had been her salvation since she was fourteen. She realized early that at work it didn’t matter where you came from, only how well you did the job.
She shoved her Ann Taylor sunglasses up her nose and opened the door. The classic designer appealed to Corrine. Rand was leaning negligently against the porch railing, staring out at the street. She lived on Kaley, in one of Orlando’s older sections. Her home had been built in the fifties and required lots of care, but she loved it.
“Nice neighborhood,” he said, glancing up and down the street, which wasn’t too busy this Saturday morning.
“Thanks. Ready to go?” she asked, not wanting to encourage him to be nice to her. The other night had shown her that he’d slipped between her defenses and that was something she refused to let happen again.
“What, no tour?”
“Not today. I don’t want to be late.”
“We won’t be. We’ve got five minutes to spare.”
“Traffic could be heavy. I don’t share your confidence.”
“Want to bet on it?” he asked.
She knew from Angelica that Rand would bet on anything. And he usually won. She’d never gambled in her entire life. Not even on the twice-weekly Florida lottery. She preferred the safety of investing her money over the risk of losing a dollar to a chance of becoming a millionaire. “No.”
“Scared?” His eyebrow rose behind his sunglasses.
“Of a bet with you? I don’t think so.”
“Then, why not?”
There was only way to beat this man, she thought. And that was with wit, because he was too smart and confident for his own good. “You don’t really have anything I want.”
He pulled his glasses down to the tip of his nose and regarded her over the top of the lenses. “Really?”
“Really,” she said.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.”
She pushed her glasses back on her head and gave him her haughtiest stare. The one that made people back off. “Will your swelled head fit in the car?”
“No problem. The car is a convertible. I’ll put the top down if need be.”
She laughed and closed her door, locking it behind her.
“Why are you bringing your computer?” he asked.
“I have some work I need to do. I hate to waste the time since you’re driving.”
“You can’t take one day off?” he asked.
“Sure I can. I just don’t want to.”
“Don’t you ever have any fun?” he asked, opening her door for her.
“I like working.”
She knew it was an old-fashioned gesture, and yet she liked it. He probably did it without thinking, but it made her feel good. She dropped her bags on the floor and smoothed the skirt of her sundress under her as she slid into the car. She felt the heat of his gaze on her legs as the hem slid up on her thighs.
Was he interested in her as a woman? Since he’d kept his distance after their dance she figured his attraction to her had been posturing since she’d been the one in the position of power.
He slammed the door and walked around in front of the car. He wore khaki shorts and a golf shirt and looked like an advertisement for easy living. She pulled her sunglasses back into place, then smoothed her hair along her head, searching for any strand that might have escaped the ponytail she’d pulled it into this morning. Neat and tidy, she thought.
“I like my job, too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take time to enjoy life.”
“I’m not an unhappy person, Rand. And you’re working today.”
“I know.”
“So why shouldn’t I?”
“Never mind.”
She pulled her laptop from its case and powered it up. Rand fastened his seat belt and neatly backed out of her driveway. The traffic was heavy, but he wove through it effortlessly. She pulled up the company memo template and pretended to be composing the memo in her head, but all she could concentrate on was Rand.
His muscles flexed each time he shifted the car. She could practically smell the testosterone as he drove. And she wondered if she’d really survive if he decided to take her words as a challenge.
Because without even trying to, he was engaging her senses and distracting her from her work. She knew then that she’d never claim the other two dates she’d purchased from his company because there was no way she was going to be this close to him again after today.
Rand knew it shouldn’t matter that she was working as they drove down to West Palm Beach. Ivanna Marckey, the last client he’d provided a corporate escort for, had spent all the time to and from engagements on the phone or reading e-mail on her PDA. But for some reason it bothered him when Corrine did the same.
That wasn’t true. Not only did her actions disturb him—she did. From the tips of her hot-pink toes to her sleek blond ponytail. She seemed aloof and he wanted to bring her down to his level. He wanted to see her hot and mussed. He lowered the windows so the air circulated around them, tugging the long blond strands from her neat coiffure.
She glanced over at him. He knew he should have asked before he lowered the windows. He’d been raised with more manners than most, and this was one of the reasons why he’d left Chicago many years ago. He sometimes reacted without thinking. Something that Pearsons simply didn’t do. Especially ones who seemed to live a charmed life.
“Do you mind?” he asked at last.
She shrugged. “I guess not. I wish I’d brought a scarf.”
She turned back to her computer and started typing again. Obviously not too concerned with the wind. Or too ruffled by it.
“We’ll stop before we get to the yacht club so you can fix your hair,” he said, trying to make up for his behavior.
“Okay,” she said. Her pleasantness made him feel like a bully on the playground.
He wanted to push harder to see what it would take to get a reaction out of her. A few more miles passed, and when they got on I-95 heading south he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. It just left his mind free to wander and he’d never been that comfortable with himself. Usually he blared the radio on a heavy-metal station, but today there was an interesting distraction right next to him.
Her sundress was demure on the outside, but it was encasing a body that was his version of heaven. Long, slim limbs and generous curves above and below the waist. In his mind’s eye he could still see her white thigh from when she’d gotten into the car.
