had the money, but she decided not to mention that getting all the money together was going to take a few months. ‘I have some things to do before I go,’ she fudged.
He nodded. Eventually. ‘Okay.’
Sudden panic slammed into Roxie. It was going to be hard seeing a stranger live here, but it wasn’t for ever and it would still be hers—this was the only way of ensuring it would remain hers. She breathed deep and pushed herself on. ‘The garden will be maintained by the estate.’ That was a plus, right? But she saw his smile of disbelief. ‘You haven’t seen the garden,’ she pointed out defensively.
His hands spread and he looked down. ‘I’m wearing half that hedge.’
She frowned at the number of leaves in his hair. ‘I hope you didn’t damage it.’
‘Are you seriously telling me the hedge has a gardener?’
Yeah, he was teasing. And she so wasn’t noticing how that smile shot him from hot to sizzling.
‘Totally seriously,’ she said. ‘It needs a lot of care to maintain it.’
‘It needs a chainsaw.’
‘The hedge stays. As is. That’s one non-negotiable condition.’
He walked back towards her, his smile curving his too sensual lips wider and in grave danger of distracting her. ‘How am I supposed to get access to the house if I can’t come through the hedge or the garage?’
‘There’s a hidden gate on the park side.’
‘A hidden gate?’ He chuckled then, an infectious, warm sound.
The surprise of it, the sexiness of it, almost rendered her speechless. She had to clamp her jaw to stop it from dropping, to stop herself drooling on the floor. She pivoted on the spot so she could no longer see him, so she could think. ‘So much of what makes this house is its privacy. Isn’t that what you like about it?’
There was a short silence. ‘How astute of you.’ No amusement sounded now. ‘All right, those conditions are no problem for me. I still want to rent it for the year.’
Roxie felt more dizzy than when she’d been in the shower accidentally inhaling industrial cleaner. ‘I’m going to need references.’
‘Sure. How about I give you a cash deposit now to secure it, and we can let our lawyers draw up a lease agreement tomorrow? You have a lawyer, right?’
‘Of course. That’s her number on the sign out there. I’ll get her to put those conditions in writing.’
Gabe nodded and turned to walk back to the tree again, trying to keep his eyes up and away. Because Little Miss Landlady’s white vest-top had not retained opacity in the shower-cleaning session. She might as well be topless. But she didn’t know that and he didn’t want to tell her. He didn’t want to think about it a second longer than he already had. No, he didn’t want to dwell on how completely gorgeous she was. Instead he lectured himself that she looked about seventeen. As if she’d just walked home from school. And he did not, not, not have raging lust for someone barely legal. She was a kid.
Except she wasn’t. She had the most delicately feminine body he’d ever seen. He’d noticed it at first glance in the bathroom—her long legs, fine-boned shoulders, slender waist, sweetheart-shaped face, smooth, glowing skin, sensually full lips. And then her eyes had opened and stabbed him in the gut. The most vividly blue eyes. He deluded himself that they looked unnaturally vibrant because of that cleaner. That the chemical had some belladonna-poison effect that magnified the intensity of their colour or something. As if. They were just knockout powerful. And now her red-rimmed, stunning eyes were round.
Yeah, he’d have to be blind not to see how she looked at him. It was a look he was used to and it didn’t usually affect him. Only he was working hard not to give her that same look back. That surprised, almost dazed look that had its roots in sensual appreciation and unexpected desire.
Maybe he’d inhaled some poisonous fumes too because he couldn’t be thinking this way. Her shorts were old and worn and not any season’s style. Her mouse-brown hair was in a bedraggled ponytail that emphasised that schoolgirl impression. And that damn thin white vest-top had gone transparent. He was trying very hard not to think about the pointed peaks jutting towards him. Because he wasn’t so out of control as to be turned on by almost visible nipples, by imagining cupping those mounds in his hands and bending before her to kiss the pointed tips, to press his face to the softly curved surrounds.
Okay, he was that out of control and his unruly imagination was making it worse. It’d been too, too long since he’d got laid. Too long he’d been stuck on the straight and narrow and boring. His heart hammered at an insane pace, ringing in his ears. The last thing he’d expected to find beyond that horrendous hedge was an architecturally amazing home complete with some Snow White or Sleeping Beauty or Rapunzel type impossibly pretty Disney princess inside. He couldn’t help wondering where the dwarves, beasts or wicked witches were …
Oh, he had to snap out of it. It was just frustration addling his reason. Going for a woman like this—one the same age if not younger than Diana—would be insane. She’d undoubtedly want more than he ever would. She’d be emotionally immature, a dreamer with that happy-ever-after fantasy that he was never buying into. It was when he’d been forced to reiterate that to Diana that her inner witch had appeared … intense, needy, a knife-edge to certifiable. Just the thought of that mess was enough to cool him off.
Almost.
Thank heavens this woebegone waif was heading overseas. It was only knowing she was leaving that he could take the place. No doubt she’d return from her trip all grown up and sophisticated and if serendipity saw their paths cross again, he’d dally with her then. Uh-huh, like in five years’ time. For now he’d get himself this hideaway and then hide, right away. In a couple of weeks the team had that game in Sydney and he was so hitting the club scene and having a couple of nights all-adult action. Having fought so long to gain independence from family expectation, he was letting no woman hamper his freedom. So he definitely wasn’t hot for Miss Skinny.
He turned back to face her and named a weekly rental price he figured should be almost on the money for the location.
‘Actually I’d been thinking a little more than that. My lawyer will send you the details to set up an automatic payment.’
So Sleeping Beauty wasn’t that sleepy. Good for her for knowing the high value of her property—and that he could afford it. Biting back all the flirt talk tingling on the tip of his tongue, he got his wallet and pulled out enough cash to cover the first two months. She took it from him with a steady hand and those wide, wide eyes.
‘Don’t you think you’d better tell me your name?’ he asked drily, trying to hide how he was dying of desire inside.
‘Roxanna Jones,’ she answered, head high and unblushing.
‘Good doing business with you, Roxanna.’ So not thinking about the pleasure of it—of her—at all.
‘When did you want to move in?’ Roxanna gripped the wad of notes tightly to stop herself from touching him and easing her insanely curious fingertips. Since when had her fingertips itched like this?
‘Tomorrow.’
She
