at work; compared to that, this ought to be a relatively easy battle to win.
Glancing at herself in the mirror, she was confronted with a scary sight. Her normally immaculate sweep of blonde hair was mussed and sticking out at odd angles after she’d slept on it wet and she had dark circles under her eyes.
Once she’d pulled a brush through her hair and tied it back in a tight bun she splashed her face with cold, reviving water from the white porcelain sink in the room. That would have to do for now. First breakfast, then a shower, then a confrontation with Connor Preston.
Descending the stairs, she was hit by the tantalising aromas of fresh coffee and bacon.
He was up already.
There was a mound of mud-splattered bags at the door and a pair of large hiking boots leant haphazardly against the wall in the hallway.
What big feet you have, Mr Preston.
Her memory of him was blurry this morning, as if she’d dreamed him.
No such luck.
He was standing at the stove with his back to her, but as she moved quietly into the kitchen he turned around. Her insides lurched as they made eye contact.
‘Good morning. I trust you found my bed comfortable?’
His voice was a low rumble, but a little friendlier than the previous night. And, yup, he was just as impressive as she remembered. An unwelcome tingle tickled the base of her spine.
Think of it as a business negotiation, Josie. Do not let him charm you. You are a strong, capable woman. Take control.
‘Yes, thanks,’ she replied lightly. She would not apologise for not budging last night. She didn’t want him to get the impression she was some sort of sappy push-over and lose any advantage she might have.
He gestured towards a seat at the table with a lazy flick of his hand. ‘Sit. I’ll get us some breakfast and we’ll talk.’
His commanding tone rankled, but she ignored it and took the seat opposite him, straightening her spine and leaning into the table, ready to fight her corner. She needed to choose her battles wisely here.
He had quite a presence. A big man, with a natural strength and a broad build, he certainly looked powerful, but not pumped up like a boxer or a body-builder. Intimidating.
She wasn’t used to feeling dwarfed. Her six-foot frame usually afforded her a sense of authority, but she wasn’t feeling the power of it with him around.
He took a break from stirring the eggs to run a hand through his shaggy blond hair, swiping the fringe out of his eyes. Something about this simple action sent a frisson of excitement through her. What the hell was wrong with her? Clearly she hadn’t had enough sleep. She laced her fingers together under the table to stop them twitching in her lap.
In a daze, she watched him pour coffee into large earthenware mugs and pile bacon and scrambled eggs onto plates. After sliding them onto the table he sat opposite her and began to shovel food into his mouth without even glancing her way.
It took him less than two minutes to clear his plate, and afterwards he leant back in his chair and waited patiently for her to finish. Josie could feel his gaze burning into her skin, but forced her eyes to look down at her plate, willing her hand to stay steady as she forked eggs into her mouth.
Finally, pushing her plate away, she picked up her coffee and looked at him. He continued to observe her without breaking his gaze. She could sense the force of his will, digging away at her defences. He clearly didn’t want her company any more than she wanted his.
Her heart played in quick time against her chest, but she didn’t look away.
This must be the way he wins his battles, Josie thought. By silent intimidation. He’d just wait for her to break and say she’d leave. She’d come across this strategy before at work. Being a woman in a high-powered position meant she had to deal with this kind of resistance a lot, and she’d become pretty good at fielding it, so instead of looking away she stared right back.
His eyes were an attention-grabbing ice-blue, ringed with graphite-grey, and the intensity in his gaze almost broke her.
Not today, matey.
After what felt like an age Connor placed his mug back on the table and allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. At once his rugged features came alive: his eyes lit with warmth and the sharp angles of his face softened, making him seem younger, more playful and somehow more human. It was a deliciously sexy sight.
Her whole body trembled as a surge of lust blindsided her and hot coffee slopped over the rim of the mug onto her lap.
Damn it.
Gritting her teeth, she ignored the burning sensation as the liquid soaked into her jeans, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
His smile morphed into a quizzical frown. ‘You okay? That must have stung.’
‘I’m fine,’ she muttered, putting her mug carefully onto the table before she did any more damage to herself.
He took advantage of her weakened state to launch his attack. ‘So, Josie, when are you leaving?’
His tone was even, as if he were making polite conversation, but she felt the power behind the words. Oh, he was good, all right.
Drawing her shoulders back, she gave him her fully-in-control face before answering, noting with satisfaction that he’d leant further back in his chair and broken eye contact, dipping his gaze to somewhere below her neck.
‘In a week or two. Abigail offered this place to me and I accepted in good faith.’ She looked at him hard, determined to keep it together. ‘I haven’t had a holiday for three years and she thought I could do with the break.’
That was understating the facts a little, but there was no way she was admitting the whole truth to him. She was too proud. Plus, it was none of his damn business.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes, obviously still tired after travelling and then sleeping on the less than man-sized sofa.
She actually felt her insides softening. ‘Look, I know this is your place, and you probably want to relax in peace, but you can’t just kick me out.’ She jabbed a finger at him. ‘This house is just as much Abigail’s as yours, and you weren’t supposed to be coming back any time soon. Why didn’t you let her know?’
He leant in towards her and she couldn’t help but move away from the overwhelming force of his sudden proximity. ‘I don’t answer to anyone—especially not my damn sister.’ He tapped his finger hard on the table. ‘She knows this is where I base myself when I’m not travelling, she never comes here, and I don’t see why I should put up with her waifs and strays when the whim takes her.’
His voice was low and steady, all cool control and understated power, but she refused to be scared off.
‘I’m not a waif or a stray, and I’m not going anywhere.’ She crossed her arms and bit down hard on her lip. His eyes dropped to her mouth and she shifted self-consciously in her seat. Blood pulsed through her veins as his eyes slowly returned to hers, his pupils large and dark against his
