absolute silence for a screaming moment, but as Sephy glared at him the cool profile was magnificently indifferent. He’d make a fantastic poker player, she thought irrelevantly. No wonder he was so formidable in business.
‘The name’s Conrad.’
‘What?’ If he had taken all his clothes off and danced stark naked on the Mercedes’ beautiful leather seats she couldn’t have been more taken aback.
‘I said, the name is Conrad,’ he said evenly, without taking his eyes from the view beyond the car’s bonnet. ‘If we are going to be working together for some weeks I can’t be doing with Mr Quentin this and Mr Quentin that; it’s irritating in the extreme.’
She wanted—she did so want—to be able to match him for cool aplomb and control, but it was a lost cause, she acknowledged weakly as she sank back in her seat without saying another word. Game, set and match to him, the insensitive, cold-blooded, arrogant so-and-so.
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