streets knew who they were.
Niggling away at the top of her mind was the uncomfortable thought that she fancied the man, and that her plan of seeing him out of his depth and floundering in unfamiliar surroundings—which she had hoped might put the brakes on her stupid attraction to him—had spectacularly backfired.
She should have guessed. He could pull that charm out when it was needed like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
‘Are you really interested?’ she asked, then belatedly remembered what he had said about her arguing with everything he said. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised. ‘Even if you’re not really interested, it’s thoughtful of you to pretend to be.’
She was determined to stop letting him get under her skin and rattle her. If she could reach a higher plane of being cool and controlled when she was around him, then her wayward responses could be harnessed and quickly killed off. Fancying someone because of the way they looked was so superficial that it surely couldn’t last longer than two minutes.
‘And,’ she continued, ‘you put on a really good show of being interested in what went on there.’
Theo’s mouth tightened. Whatever he said or did, she was determined not to give him the benefit of the doubt and it was really beginning to get on his nerves.
‘So what exactly is your role there?’ he repeated, keeping his voice even and neutral.
They were heading back in the direction of the bars and shops and cafés, looking out for any passing taxis and walking until they could hail one. They had quickly left behind the insalubrious neighbourhood where they had just been, and the houses to either side of them now were well maintained but small and all exactly alike.
Theo realised that this was a part of town he had never actually visited. He wasn’t in the country a lot, and when he was his visits were fleeting, because he far preferred to import his father to London.
Having always considered himself a man of the world—widely travelled, the recipient of far more global experiences than most people could ever dream of achieving in a lifetime—he now wondered when and how he had managed to isolate himself so entirely in a very specific social circle that was accessible only to the very, very wealthy. He was delivered to and from places in chauffeur-driven cars, never flew anything but first class, always had the most expensive seats at the opera or the theatre...
Alexa, having come from a very similar background to his own, should have followed the same route—maybe without the high-powered career—but she hadn’t and that roused his curiosity.
‘It wasn’t quite the sort of thing I was expecting,’ he expanded truthfully.
‘And what were you expecting?’
She turned to him and was dazzled by the glare from the sun, which threw his lean, handsome face into a mosaic of shadows. She shielded her eyes and squinted against the sun. Overcome by a sudden feeling of vertigo, she took a couple of small steps backwards.
‘A soup kitchen and people waving begging bowls at you?’
She took a deep breath and told herself that sniping and bristling was just a symptom of the stupid attraction she felt for the man, against all odds. If she carried on like that he would begin to wonder why he got under her skin the way he did, and the last thing she wanted was for him to suspect that he got to her, that she was so horribly alert to him.
‘I guess shelter might be the wrong word...’ She fought to inject polite indifference into her words. ‘Most people do think of the homeless when they hear the word shelter. It’s more of an advice bureau. Women come to us with all sorts of problems. Financial, personal... Often we redirect them to other services, but there are people on hand who are really experienced at listening and getting the desperate off the path they’ve gone down. We also have contacts with companies who offer jobs wherever possible, to help some of them get back on their feet...’
What she had really wanted to show him, Theo mused, were the sort of people she liked. He hadn’t been able to help noticing that the men there had been a ‘type’.
Caring, soft-spoken, touchy-feely...
Had she subconsciously wanted to show him the sort of guys she liked—was attracted to? Had her intention been to draw comparisons, so that she could underline how far short he fell of her ideal? Just another way of reinforcing her dislike for the position she was in and the man she would be forced to marry—like a Victorian bride being dragged to the altar, kicking and screaming.
And yet...
When she had pulled him towards her in the restaurant and kissed him... Hell, he knew enough about women to know that loathing and dislike hadn’t been behind that kiss. She might not want to admit it, but he had felt an urgency there and it intrigued him.
Why wouldn’t it?
‘Those are the people I enjoy being around,’ she carried on, pausing as his driver cruised up alongside them and stopped.
When had he summoned a driver? But of course that would suit him far better than a normal taxi, because there was the option of sliding up that partition so that their conversation could not be overheard. He was always one step ahead.
‘Is that your not so subtle way of telling me that those are the sort of men you enjoy being around?’ He slid into the seat alongside her and predictably slid up the partition, locking them into complete privacy.
Work hard, play hard. Alexa was beginning to understand that, for Theo, the priority was business and after that came sex. He didn’t do love and emotion but he did do sex. It was why he could be so cool about the situation they were in. He could detach.
‘Yes.’
She took a deep breath and thought she had been gifted a golden opportunity to make it perfectly clear to him that those were just the sort of guys she was attracted to. And by attraction she knew that she meant a lot more than just a passing physical tug.
‘Their priorities are all in the right places...’
‘Heart-warming,’ Theo drawled. ‘Not the most aggressive of men, though, are they...? One had his hair in a ponytail. I’m thinking that he might be the type to strum a guitar and sing a haunting ballad by way of entertaining a woman...’
‘Jorge is absolutely wonderful! Hugely caring! Besides, I don’t like aggressive men!’
‘And yet your father didn’t get where he is by being the sort of man who gets walked over...’
‘He’s not ruthless...’
‘He bartered you in marriage so that he could get me as a bonus prize...’ Theo pointed out flatly, because he didn’t do well when it came to accepting unfavourable comparisons.
‘He did it for Mum,’ she contradicted. ‘I admit he saw an opportunity and seized it, but are you telling me that you wouldn’t do the same thing? He’s been desperately worried about my mother and he was convinced that her health and her spirits would improve if...if she had this to focus on. And that’s why I agreed to...to go along with the pretence.’
‘And when the pretence comes to its inevitable crashing halt?’
‘A year is a long
