realised this was going to be a long week if the two of them were going to get into a battle of wills over something as small as Stazy showing him up to his suite of rooms!
‘I trust you didn’t have too much of a problem rearranging your departure for Iraq to next week instead of this?’ He attempted conversation as the two of them walked up the wide staircase together.
She gave him the briefest of glances from those emerald-green eyes. ‘Would it bother you if I had?’
‘Honestly? Not really.’ He grimaced, only to raise surprised brows as she gave a laugh. A husky laugh that brought a warm glow to those sultry green eyes. A dimple appeared in her left cheek as the parted fullness of her lips curved into a smile.
Strangely, Jaxon had found himself thinking about those sensuous lips more often than he would have liked these past six weeks. Full and luscious lips that were at odds with the rest of Stazy’s buttoned down, no-nonsense appearance. The sort of lips that would be delicious to kiss and taste, and to have kiss and taste him in return.
Something he probably shouldn’t think of again when he was already so hard his erection waxs pressing painfully against the confines of his leathers!
‘Which isn’t to say I don’t appreciate your having—’
‘Oh, don’t go and spoil it by apologising, Jaxon.’ Stazy still chuckled softly as they reached the top of the stairs and she turned right to walk down the hallway ahead of him. ‘If we’re to spend any amount of time together then you need to know that I’ll appreciate your honesty much more than I would any false charm.’
‘My charm is never false,’ he snapped irritably.
Stazy turned to quirk a teasing brow. ‘Never? Be warned, Jaxon, I’m guilty of having watched film awards on television in the past!’
‘Guilty …?’
She snorted. ‘Oh, come on, Jaxon—it’s all so much glitzy hype, isn’t it?’
‘I believe the newspapers praised me for the shortness of my acceptance speech this year,’ he drawled.
‘I’m not surprised; I thought your co-star was never going to get off the podium!’
‘She can be … a little emotional,’ Jaxon allowed reluctantly.
‘A little …?’ Stazy raised mocking brows. ‘She thanked everyone but the man who sweeps the studio floor!’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You really can be a—’ He broke off with an impatient shake of his head. ‘Never mind,’ he muttered tersely.
Stazy pushed open the door to the suite of rooms she knew her grandfather had allocated to his guest. The green and cream decor and dark furniture there was more obviously masculine than in some of the other guest suites, as was the adjoining cream and gold bathroom visible through the open doorway. But it was the massive four-poster bed that dominated.
‘The sitting room is through here.’ She turned away from the intimacy of the bedroom to walk through to the adjoining room with its green carpet and cream sofa. A mahogany desk placed in front of the bay window looked out over the gardens at the back of the house, with the blue of the sea visible above the high wall that surrounded the grounds.
‘This is very nice,’ Jaxon murmured evenly.
Stazy eyed him derisively. ‘You seem a little … tense?’
Those grey eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder why!’
She shrugged. ‘Can I help it if the much publicised Wilder charm doesn’t work on me?’
Jaxon’s mouth thinned at the deliberate insult. ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read in trashy magazines!’
Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’ve never read a trashy magazine in my life, thank you very much!’
‘Too lowbrow for you?’ he taunted.
She drew in a sharp breath. ‘My grandfather made it clear to me before he left that he expected me to be polite to a guest in his home during his absence—’
‘I hate to be the one to tell you—but so far today you’ve failed. Miserably!’ Jaxon bit out.
Stazy eyed him coolly. ‘Being polite doesn’t mean I have to be insincere.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind …?’ He began to unzip those body-moulding leathers. ‘I would like to take my shower now.’ He arched mocking brows.
Stazy had no doubt that Jaxon’s challenging attitude now was in return for her earlier scathing comments about ‘the much-published Wilder charm’. But as he continued to move that zip further and further down his hard muscled chest she knew it was a challenge she simply didn’t have the sophistication—or the experience!—to meet.
‘Come downstairs when you’re ready and I’ll show you the library where we’re to work,’ she said stiltedly, before turning sharply on her booted heels and hurrying over to the doorway.
Totally aware of the sound of Jaxon’s throaty laughter behind her.
‘Where do you want to start?’
‘I have absolutely no idea.’ Jaxon looked down in some dismay at the copious amount of documents and notebooks Geoffrey Bromley had left neatly stacked on the desktop in the library for him to look through.
Jaxon wasn’t sure he would be able to get through them all in just the week Stazy had agreed to give him.
The library itself was full of floor to ceiling mahogany bookcases stacked mainly with leather-bound books, although some of the shelves near the door seemed to be full of more modern hardbacks that he might like to explore another time.
Jaxon felt somewhat refreshed after a long cold shower and a change of clothes, and thankfully had succeeded in dissipating the last of his erection as well as washing off the travel dust.
The erection was something—despite their sharp exchange in his suite earlier—that was guaranteed not to stay away for very long if Stazy was going to continue bending over the desk in that provocative way, her denims clearly outlining the perfect curve of her bottom.
‘Maybe we should just sort them out year by year today, and start looking through them properly tomorrow?’ he prompted tersely.
‘Sounds logical.’ Stazy nodded.
Jaxon regarded her through narrowed lids. ‘And are you big on logic?’
She looked irritated by the implied criticism. ‘I’ve always found it’s the best way to approach most situations, yes.’
‘Hmm.’ He nodded. ‘The problem with logic is that it leaves no room for emotion.’
‘Which is precisely the point,’ Stazy reasoned shortly.
No doubt—but Jaxon didn’t work that way. ‘Are these Anastasia’s diaries?’ He ran awed fingers lightly over a pile of a dozen small notebooks.
‘They
