got tangled up in his. Just as her stomach was now tangled in knots.
He rubbed his thumb across her palm, making her fingers curl into his. ‘You’d be wrong about that,’ he said. ‘You gave me a choice and I took it. With a great deal of enthusiasm.’
His thumb began stroking her wrist, doing appalling things to her pulse rate. She was just about to muster the will to pull her hand away when he let her go and sat back.
Gino cleared his throat loudly and slid their coffees onto the table.
‘Here you go, folks.’ Gino sent Daisy a searching look, raising his eyebrows pointedly, before leaving them alone.
No doubt Gino was as confused as she was. Why had she been holding Brody’s hand? Letting him caress her like that? It wasn’t as if they were intimate. Well, not in the proper sense.
She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug to keep them out of harm’s way. ‘I’m so glad there are no hard feelings,’ she said.
At least she would be glad, once she’d got away from that penetrating gaze.
‘Not about making love to you, no,’ he said, the Irish in his voice brushing over her like an aphrodisiac. ‘There are no hard feelings about that. I enjoyed it, a lot. And, I think, so did you.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘But as to the rest,’ he continued. ‘There you’ve more explaining to do.’
Her cup clattered onto the table and coffee slurped over the rim. ‘I do?’
‘Why did you run off?’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied, and then felt guilty again when he lifted one dark brow. He wasn’t buying it.
‘It was a bit too intense,’ she said. ‘And I don’t usually jump into bed with men I hardly know.’ She clamped her mouth shut. Half the truth would have to do. Because she was getting the weird sensation she was being toyed with, lured into some kind of a trap. Which was preposterous, of course, but Daisy never ignored her instincts.
‘That’s good to know,’ he said. She took a gulp of the hot coffee and then reached for her bag. ‘I’m so glad we got all this settled. I’d hate for us not to be friends. Especially as you live right next door.’
Which made the whole thing even more awful. How was she going to face him every day if her hormones went into meltdown every time she looked at him? She’d have to get that little problem under control and quickly. But for now she decided distance was probably the best medicine. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she slid out of the booth and offered her hand. ‘I’ll see you around. The coffees are on me. I’ll tell Gino to put them on my tab. Thanks for being so understanding.’
He clasped her hand, the warm, rough feel of his palm sending little shivers up her arm—and held on. ‘Sit down. We’re not finished.’
‘We’re not?’
He nodded at the booth seat. ‘There’s still the matter of the making up to settle.’
‘What?’ She plopped back in her seat, not at all sure she liked the commanding tone.
‘The making up.’
Finally he let her hand go. She tucked it under the table, her fingers tingling.
‘You said you wanted to make up for what you’d done,’ he said calmly. ‘And we’re going to have to sort it now, because I don’t have much time.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’m catching the Eurostar to Paris in a little over an hour. I’ve got eight days there and then I’ll be two weeks in New York.’
Daisy’s shoulders slumped with relief. Thank you, God. She had no idea why he was telling her his itinerary, but at least she’d have over three weeks before she had to see him again. She should be well over this silly chemical reaction by then. ‘That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time. I’ll miss you,’ she added, a tad concerned to realise it was the truth.
‘Not for long, you won’t,’ he said, the predatory smile that tugged at his lips concerning her a whole lot more. ‘Because when I get to New York you’ll be meeting me there.’
She choked out a laugh. ‘You lost me,’ she said, but she could have sworn she heard the sound of a trap snapping shut.
He relaxed back in his seat, the picture of self-satisfaction. ‘You want to make things up to me,’ he prompted. ‘It so happens I need a girlfriend in New York for those two weeks. It has to do with a business deal.’ He tapped his fingers on the table in a rhythm that sounded like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place. ‘And that girlfriend’s going to be you.’
He could not be serious? Was he insane? ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to New York. When I said I wanted to make things up to you, I was planning to bake you another plate of brownies. Not take a two-week trip to New York as your fake date. Are you nuts?’ He was still looking at her with that cocksure, you’ll-do-as-you’re-told expression on his face. It was starting to annoy her. ‘Even if I wanted to go.’ Which she most definitely did not. ‘I couldn’t possibly. I’ve got my stall to run.’
He sighed. ‘If your little bodyguard friend can’t run the stall on her own you can find someone to help her. I’ll pay any wages due. My PA will sort out your travel plans.’ He looked pointedly at his watch again, as if to say, I don’t have time for this.
Daisy’s temper kicked up another notch. ‘You’re not listening to me, Brody. I’m not doing it. I don’t want to. You’ll have to find someone else.’ She did not want to spend two weeks alone with him in New York. She already knew how irresistible he was—what if she had another lapse in judgment brought on by extreme hormonal overload and jumped him again? Things could get very complicated indeed. ‘I don’t owe you that much,’ she finished, indignation seeping from every pore.
‘Oh, but you do, Daisy Dean.’ He leaned forward, those icy blue eyes chilling her to the bone. ‘You told half of London I was selfish, arrogant and not to be trusted. That’s known as slander.’
The blood seeped out of her face. How did he know about that?
‘There happen to be laws against that sort of thing. So unless you want me to be calling my solicitor, you’d best be on that plane.’
He got up from the booth. She drew back, but he caught her chin in his fingers and tilted her face to his. ‘And, Daisy,’ he murmured, the warmth of his breath making her heart go into palpitations. ‘Who said anything about a fake date?’ he finished, his lips so close she could all but feel them pressed against hers.
‘But I’m not your girlfriend,’ she managed to say as her heart pounded in her throat. ‘I certainly don’t love you. And right now I don’t even like you.’
His gaze swept over her, making her notice the length of his lashes again, before his eyes fixed on her face. If she’d hoped to wound him she could see by his expression she’d failed.
‘Make no mistake. This is only a two-week deal. I’m not in the market for anything more and neither are you.’
She thought she could hear a tinge of regret in his voice and cursed her overactive imagination. She doubted he had the emotional capacity for regret. The rat.
‘But
