she had. Rosalie kept her voice even as she said, ‘In latter years. It’s not exactly unusual, after all.’
‘First sign of stress.’
Rosalie stiffened at the hint of criticism. ‘I don’t think so. I enjoy my work,’ she said very stiffly, eyes to the front.
‘It doesn’t have to be work that’s the problem,’ he countered smoothly. ‘Work’s not the be-all and end-all of life, surely.’
‘The rest of my life is also perfectly stress-free, thank you,’ she said tartly. As if it were anything to do with him, anyway.
‘Rosalie, in this day and age no one’s life is perfectly stress-free. Do you keep a healthy balance between work and play?’ he persisted, knowing he was being unfair in pursuing this when she had just been through one hell of an afternoon, but sensing her defences were low. He wanted to know more about this woman who kept herself so very much to herself, he admitted silently, capitulating to the truth he had been ignoring all day. She had aroused his curiosity as well as his body, damn it, and, yes—it was pique he was feeling at her total disinterest in him. Which made him a lesser man than he had thought he was.
‘That’s my business, surely?’ It was frosty, and exactly what he had expected.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said with lazy innocence. ‘I’ve obviously touched a nerve.’
She glared at him. ‘Of course you haven’t,’ she said sharply. ‘That’s absolutely ridiculous.’
The black eyebrows rose but he said nothing, which was ten times more aggravating than an argument, Rosalie thought irritably. It was hard to argue with silence.
‘I mean it,’ she said again. ‘You haven’t touched a nerve.’
‘Methinks the lady protests too much.’
Methinks the gentleman is an arrogant pig.
‘So, do you have a current partner, a boyfriend?’ he asked softly, knowing the answer full well.
She was longing to tell him to mind his own business but in view of their conversation to date didn’t think it appropriate. ‘No.’ It was so wintry ice tinkled.
It would have discouraged a lesser man, but Kingsley wasn’t a lesser man. ‘How long since you’ve been on a date, then?’
She was fairly quivering with the rage she was trying to hide. How dared he cross-examine her like this? ‘In spite of this being the twenty-first century and therefore licence for most people to behave like rabbits, I prefer quality rather than quantity,’ she responded icily, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him. She had never met such rudeness in her life.
Of course it wasn’t. ‘That taken as read, how long?’
Suddenly, horrifyingly, the rage had gone and the urge to burst into tears was paramount. Twelve years long. Twelve years since I was hurt and abused and brought to the brink of losing my mind. The words were so fierce in her head that for an awful moment she thought she’d spoken them out loud, but when the chiselled features didn’t change she knew she was safe. She had never spoken about her relationship with Miles to anyone, not even her grandparents before they had died, and she never would. All old friends and family knew was that she’d been married and then it had finished. New friends didn’t even know that much.
She took a deep pull of air, praying her voice wouldn’t reveal her inward trembling. ‘Some time, I can’t remember. I’m not the sort of person who puts notches on the bedpost, unlike some.’ She turned to look at him as she spoke.
It was pointed, and she saw his mouth tighten with a dart of gratification. You can dish it out but taking it is a little harder, isn’t it? she thought bitterly.
‘Meaning I am?’ he asked grimly.
‘I didn’t say that.’ She paused purposely. ‘But if the cap fits…’
‘It doesn’t, not in this instance.’
‘Right.’ She put a wealth of meaning into the one word.
‘I have my faults, Rosalie, but promiscuity is not one of them,’ he said, very coldly.
‘Methinks the gentleman protests too much.’
For a second she wondered if she had gone too far as she cast a sidelong glance at his angry face, and then the wind was completely taken out of her sails when he laughed ruefully, turning to look at her for an instant with eyes that were smiling for the first time since she had known him. ‘Touché, mademoiselle,’ he said dryly. ‘I guess I asked for that one.’
Oh, no, don’t do this. Her mind was gabbling. Don’t step out of the mould like this. You aren’t the type who can laugh at himself. You’re arrogant and self-opinionated and a control freak. It’s written all over you in great big black letters.
‘So…’ It was a lazy drawl. ‘You’ve got me down as a philanderer, is that it?’ He glanced at her again.
She hesitated a mite too long.
‘Charming.’ It was dry but not too bothered.
‘Look, Kingsley, I didn’t exactly say that,’ she said quickly as she reminded herself he was the best client Carr and Partners had had in ages. ‘I don’t know you, do I?’
‘True.’ They had just paused at some traffic lights and he turned to watch her with narrowed eyes. ‘So how do we remedy that so you can give an informed opinion?’
‘My opinion doesn’t matter one way or the other, surely?’
His eyes travelled to her mouth, the fullness of the lower lip naturally pink and tender, and his voice was deep when he said, ‘Perhaps I object to being misunderstood?’ as he smiled again, sexily.
He was flirting with her. Rosalie stared at him for a moment and then the traffic lights changed to green and they were away. Whenever anyone had tried that in the past she had firmly repelled them, dealing with them gently or harshly depending first on their martial status, and then the nature of their persistence. Some of the married ones had been the worst, necessitating arctic freezing of the most severe magnitude, but there had been the odd young buck who had fancied his chances—along with his own sexual attraction—who had needed an icy put-down.
She hadn’t found it difficult to deal with them, whatever their age or experience, mainly—she realised right at this moment for the first time—because she hadn’t been tempted by their overtures.
Kingsley was different. She gazed blindly ahead as the car growled and leapt forward. Which made him dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. She had done the falling-madly-in-love thing and it was a con; a repeat performance would make her the biggest fool on earth. Unfortunately, however, she had learnt over the last ten years that she wasn’t the type to go in for sex without love; it just wasn’t in her make-up. Therefore she’d decided a first-class career, and all the benefits that would accrue from it, was her goal in life.
Good friends, a nice home, enough money to travel to foreign parts when the fancy took her—that would suit her just fine. But the main thing, the most important thing, which transcended anything else and negated all other considerations
