welcome,’ came Zara’s response, his eye swiftly returning to her and the imaginings he shouldn’t be having. She slotted the shower head back in place and slipped him a sidelong glance through the glass screen. Her fingers froze over the contraption, her eyes widening ever so slightly, her pupils following suit—did she know where his head was at?
And then the moment was gone, a shutter falling over her expression as she gave a small cough, her eyes snapping away.
‘Right, well, I think we’re done with this one,’ she said, unceremoniously shoving the shower screen in his face and almost sending him to his ass on the pink porcelain.
‘Shall we move on?’ she said, already heading out.
‘Yup.’ Julia nodded, smirking right at him.
He screwed his face up in a childish gesture—whatever.
‘If you both go on down,’ Zara said, expertly ignoring their little exchange—thank fuck! The pair of them were doing his ego and renowned charm no favours at all.
‘I’ll join you shortly,’ she continued. ‘I just have to take care of an errand for the owner.’
‘Great,’ Julia said, moving for the front door. ‘I have a quick call to make so I’ll meet you downstairs.’
‘I’ll catch you up,’ he called after her, pushing the glass door back into place and wondering why the hell he hadn’t thought of that.
Perhaps because you’ve never had to endure one before?
He shook his head, brushing the entire incident off as he followed in Zara’s direction.
‘Can I have a quick word?’ he asked, entering the kitchenette hot on her tail. His intention had been to talk budget with Julia out of earshot but as Zara turned in the small space, hemmed in as they were by the cupboards and the breakfast bar, all thoughts of conversation evaporated.
‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes wary as they lifted to his, her hands coming to rest on the countertop either side of her as she backed up against it. ‘But first you need to stop looking at me like that.’
‘Like what?’ He knew the answer well enough, but how would she describe it, what she saw in him? She was good with words—she’d demonstrated it repeatedly throughout the day, when eloquently describing the features of each potential abode. And in truth, he could listen to her talk and talk and talk. Perhaps that was why he was so keen to criticise: he wasn’t ready for her job to come to an end; he wasn’t ready for her to complete a sale for his sister and vacate his life.
He watched her eyelids flutter, her tongue flicking out to moisten that bottom lip he was so fascinated with. Was she nervous?
‘You know what.’ Her eyes dropped to his mouth, their depths revealing in their helpless nature, and his lips curled upwards. So she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she’d have him believe.
Power surged, his ego with it. ‘What if I said I can’t help it?’
Her eyes snapped back to his. ‘Then make yourself help it because this—’ she wagged a finger between them ‘—isn’t happening.’
‘No?’ He stepped forward and her eyes widened, her lips parting on a ragged breath.
‘No.’ She gave a small shake of her head, the move sending a lock across her forehead and he itched to push it back. ‘I don’t date clients.’
‘Technically,’ he said, his voice gruff even to his own ears, ‘I’m not a client.’
‘You’re as good as.’
‘I disagree.’
‘Whether you disagree or not, I don’t care,’ she rushed out. ‘I’m not falling into this trap.’
His brow knitted together; she’d flummoxed him now. ‘Trap?’
She paled, her words seeming to surprise even her, and then she visibly recovered, her chin rising, to say, ‘The kind of trap where I let this get in the way of my business.’
He studied her face, her sincerity. ‘You sound like you’re speaking from experience.’ He didn’t like the idea one bit. Oh, the irony. ‘I take it you’ve not always been so averse to dating clients?’
She hesitated, her teeth worrying over her lower lip and teasing at his concentration. Was she going to evade giving him an answer? Or should he just kiss her and be done with the whole conversation? He was veering towards the latter when she spoke.
‘Not my clients, no, my ex-business partner...we...we were together.’
‘You dated Charles Eddison?’
She exhaled sharply. ‘We more than dated, we lived together for five years.’
Five years, Kristus!
He felt sick at the very idea.
And then she squinted up at him, her eyes suddenly curious. ‘How did you know it was him? Do you know him?’
‘Not personally,’ he admitted, not liking the way her admission griped with his gut and keen to get back to more enjoyable conversation. But five years, Jesus. ‘I know enough of him, considering we looked at using his services initially.’
‘You looked at using him?’ She frowned. ‘Julia didn’t mention it.’
‘Why would she? She met him and took an instant dislike.’ Had he met the guy too, he was sure he would have felt the same, even more so now. ‘Someone on his team recommended you.’
‘They did?’ Her frown grew. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Well, now you do, can we move on?’
She didn’t acknowledge him; instead her eyes became distant, their sadness unmistakable. As was her vulnerability. No doubt Charles had done this to her. Left her like this.
‘When our relationship ended so did our business partnership, hence why I’m working from the ground up all over again.’ She dragged in a breath and straightened, her focus coming back as her confidence fell into place. ‘And hence why this just isn’t happening.’
He faltered, his brain telling him to agree, to move past the pull that was driving him to distraction.
She’s so not your type. She’s a bag of emotion. She’s not safe in your hands.
Instead he found himself saying, ‘You’re overthinking it. As much as Julia loves me, she’s already bought into your skills as an estate agent, as have I, for that matter. Nothing between us will sway her to go elsewhere.’
You idiot, why pursue her? She doesn’t fit with your no-strings rule. This woman goes in for attachment. Worse still, she’s been burned by it already and still suffering.
But then, if that’s the case, maybe she’s ready
