SOPHY opened her eyes when she heard the front door shut. She lay still a few moments longer just in case. Lorenzo had wanted to escape, she hadn’t wanted to stop him. She figured he didn’t want the awkward morning after either.
Had he even left a note? She rolled over, closing her mind to the slight tenderness of her body. No note—not on the pillow anyway. She lay on her back and looked up at the ceiling. Waited until she was sure he’d have driven away, then got up and walked into the lounge. The food was still on the table—all untouched. The only thing they’d eaten last night was each other. He’d had to come back out to the lounge at one point in the wee small hours to find the last couple of condoms that were hiding on the floor. And she was no girl scout—she hadn’t been prepared for him. And she certainly wasn’t prepared for this now. No regrets, but a nasty case of uncertainty.
She scraped the food into the bin, looked about as she worked. But there was no note anywhere else either.
And she had to face him at work in four hours’ time.
She didn’t bother going back to bed to try to get any more sleep. Instead she found her favourite navy trouser suit and made sure the shirt to wear beneath was pressed. She refused to let him ruffle her—not any more. But her heart thudded.
So they’d had their one night. And while she felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven, he obviously hadn’t. He couldn’t wait to get away—and hadn’t wanted to deal with her. Okay, she’d get over that.
She really wished Rosanna were home. It wasn’t her advice on how to get it that Sophy had needed. It was her advice on how to achieve a painless aftermath now. How did Rosanna keep on such good terms with all her old flames? And, even more importantly, how did she keep them all burning for her? Sophy shook her head—no, she didn’t have either the secret or the skill for that.
Well, at the very least she’d try to borrow some Rosanna cool. She handled the boys with charm and smiles, right? Just made it easy for everyone. She winced. Sophy had made it easy for him all right. But he’d wanted her too, hadn’t he? It hadn’t been totally one-sided. She’d felt him shaking when he’d moved in her, she’d heard him growl with pleasure.
The balm from that reflection didn’t last anywhere near long enough.
He just liked sex. It was obvious. It wasn’t her he’d wanted, just the physical pleasure that she’d offered on a plate. What had she been thinking?
Okay, so the regrets were coming now—and the hurt that he hadn’t felt anything special when she so totally had.
He wasn’t in when she got there. Kat the receptionist said he’d be out most of the morning. Sophy was sure it was on purpose.
Fine.
She sat at the desk and did what she was famed for— getting on with the job. Organising everything. Victoria phoned, asking her to pick up some supplies from the deli for the dinner at their parents’ place, and she had some meals to drop to Cara’s house too—could Sophy do it?
Of course she could.
And in the end her nervous energy was wasted—he didn’t show up at all. Sophy decided to leave early too. She’d cleared the backlog—there was no reason for her to be working full time hours any more. She’d stick with what she was good at. She did the errands for Victoria, then went to her parents’ place for the catch-up. While there she did more, making herself feel useful—wanted by someone for something.
When she got to work the next day he was out again. Sophy bristled inside—really, wasn’t he taking it a bit far? What was he afraid of? That she’d throw herself at him—again?
She winced. She had thrown herself at him. Not making that mistake again. Not ever. Hours later she hung up from her millionth call and looked up at a small sound.
He stood in the doorway, his face half in shadow. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Yes.’ Sophy smiled. ‘Of course.’ She looked at the piles of paper in front of her. ‘It’s been a busy morning but I think I’ve got just about everything sorted now. Including all the details for the fundraising gig at the bar tomorrow night.’
‘Great.’ He hesitated.
She waited.
But he said nothing. So it was true that men never did want to talk about it. Well, she didn’t want to either. What was the point? It was done. It was finished. She wasn’t going to go all cold and wounded on him. But not flirty and desperate either. She’d aim for friendly professional. She flashed him a smile—just the right touch of warmth but not overly so. ‘I’m off in a minute. I’ll drop to part-time hours as we discussed now the backlog is cleared.’
He annoyed her completely by walking further into her office instead of hoofing off to his own as she’d hoped. She looked out of the window so she didn’t have to look at him.
‘The vandals have been back.’ She’d noticed it this morning. The graffiti was huge—stunning, if Sophy dared offer her opinion, which she didn’t because now he had that really brooding look on his face. ‘You didn’t hear them?’ It had to have been more than one kid to spray a piece that big in a short time.
‘I’m a deep sleeper,’ he said dryly.
She shifted a letter unnecessarily. That was dangerous territory. ‘What a pain for you to have to paint over it again.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll leave it for a bit.’
‘Fair enough.’ She was quite pleased. She liked the colours, the whole fence looked on fire with the crimson reds and burnt gold coils.
She logged off the computer, gathered a couple of items to put back in the cabinet. It only took a moment. Then she reached for her favourite shiny handbag. Definitely time to make her exit.
Lorenzo leaned against the window frame and watched. Wow, she really was efficient, wasn’t she? Had filed him away as if he were one of those pieces of paper. Checked him off her list and moved on. Forgotten about him.
And he shouldn’t give a damn.
And he didn’t—it was just his cock making things complicated. Leaping to attention when he merely walked the corridor—before he’d even seen her, let alone caught her fresh scent on the gentle breeze. The desire gnawed at him—had ruined his sleep last night. He’d lain awake, the noise of the city at night loud in his ears. So often it had soothed him. He’d spent so many nights listening to the traffic, imagining he was in one of those cars and just driving, driving, driving away.
And the restlessness had driven him outside—to the cover of darkness where he could create. Despite it being his property, it still thrilled him—helped release the anger that had burned in him since he could remember. Making his mark—he was there and they couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how much they wanted to.
Alex had had a bit of bitterness with the mess his parents had made. Lorenzo was filled with it.
He’d chuckled as he worked on the fence. What would the do-good miss say if she knew it was him? He’d spent hours on it—switched all the lights in the warehouse on to cast a glow out to the yard. But in the end it hadn’t done its job. Nor had the five-mile run he’d taken after. He was still angry. He was still frustrated.
He still burned inside.
But he’d discovered something that offered the softest respite from the old torment.
Sophy.
Unfortunately she was also the cause of half his trouble. Somehow just being around her—and her perfect looks, her proper manner—brought those old feelings back.
‘You are coming to the fundraiser tomorrow night, aren’t you?’ he struggled to ask casually.
‘You really need me to?’
‘Yes.’ Hell, yes. ‘It would be good to have you on hand to make sure the information side of things goes smoothly.’ He totally made it up. There was no information side of things.
‘Then I’ll be there.’ She paused by the door on her way out, turned back to look at him, an irritatingly benign smile on her face. ‘I assume it’s all right to bring a date?’
Every muscle locked onto red alert. A date? He had to force his jaw apart to answer. ‘Of course.’
Rosanna flew back late Saturday afternoon. Sophy gave her an hour to relax in the bath then asked her as she lay on the sofa flicking through a magazine. ‘You have to come out with me tonight.’
‘And you’re so desperate for my presence because?’
‘I need your support.’
Rosanna tossed the magazine to the floor. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing. But I don’t feel like walking into a crowded bar all by myself.’
‘What bar?’
‘Wildfire. Only opened this week. There’s a fundraiser tonight for the Whistle Fund there. I have to go. But I don’t want to go alone.’
‘How is our favourite shark?’
Sophy shrugged. ‘I hardly see him. He’s very busy. He’s the money behind this bar.’
‘I’ll text the boys. Spread the word. It should be fun. And it’s for a good cause.’ Rosanna leapt up into action. ‘Well, we’d better find ourselves something suitable to wear, then, huh?’
Sophy grinned. Yeah, there was no holding Rosanna back from a party—or an excuse to get dressed to the nines. But two hours later she stared at her reflection in horror. ‘I’m not wearing this.’
‘Why not? You look hot.’
She looked like a wannabe catwoman, in Rosanna’s favourite black—skin-tight satin pants and a sleek, sheer top. It smacked of trying too hard, too out of character—as if she were going out of her way to draw his attention. Which she wasn’t. Not again. ‘It’s more you than me.’
‘Keep the trousers, change the top.’ Rosanna was working on her eyes.
Okay, that she could handle. Sophy went back to her own wardrobe and found one of her pretty silk tops—that flowed, less in your face figure-hugging. She picked up one of her necklaces.
Rosanna appeared in her doorway. ‘Can I borrow one?’
‘Absolutely.’
The bar was already packed when they got there. There was no formal aspect to the fundraiser. It was just that the charity was getting a percentage of the ticket sales—so, really, she didn’t think she had to be there. But she couldn’t not.
Yeah, the place was an instant success. Lorenzo had the Midas touch, didn’t he? Knew the investments to pick, always had his finger on the new big thing.
Sophy let Rosanna lead the way to the bar, she had a way about her that parted crowds. They ordered—classic cocktails—and waited for them to be mixed. Rosanna flipped so her back was against the bar and surveyed the room. ‘Looks good.’
Sophy nodded, trying not to look anywhere. She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to have to admit she had no date.
‘Oh, my.’ Rosanna sighed, fanning herself.
‘What?’
‘I just saw Lorenzo.’
‘Oh.’
Rosanna spun back and leaned into Sophy. ‘I just saw the way he was looking at you.’
‘Oh?’ Sophy’s skin felt as if it were about to blister.
‘Kitten you are going to be gobbled. One bite.’ Rosanna laughed. ‘Lucky kitty.’
‘The jet lag is getting to you,’ Sophy muttered, lifting the glass to her lips.
‘Going to introduce me to your date, Sophy?’
She gulped, the liquid burning. Oh, there he was. Right behind her. She turned. In the crush of bodies at the bar he was too close.
‘Of course.’ She summoned some social skills. ‘This is my very special friend Rosanna. Rosanna, this is Lorenzo.’
‘Pleasure.’ Lorenzo was purring like the cat who’d not just got the cream, but the bird too. ‘Vance wanted to meet you too. He’s my co-owner and manager of the bar.’
Lorenzo moved slightly closer to Sophy so the man behind him could be seen. Sophy felt Rosanna stiffen.
‘Hi, Vance.’ Sophy smiled, breaking the short silence.
But the newcomer wasn’t looking at her. He was staring—hard—at Rosanna. And she was positively glaring back. They were squaring off like ancient enemies.
‘Aren’t you too old to still be dressing like a skateboard punk?’ Rosanna was all snark.
‘Aren’t you too old to still have an eating disorder?’ Vance answered ten degrees too coolly.
Sophy’s jaw hit the floor. Rosanna was sleek, utterly sleek and stylish. But she wasn’t sick. At least, Sophy didn’t think so. And this guy so wasn’t her type—she liked them with as much style as her own. Sophisticated style, not street wear. Although Vance had his strengths, to be sure.
‘Do you two know each other already?’ Sophy asked, despite the obviousness of the answer. It wasn’t normal to be trading insults so soon in an acquaintance.
Rosanna didn’t even glance at her. ‘We met a few years ago.’
‘Come and dance, Sophy.’ Lorenzo grabbed her hand in a death grip, took the glass from her other and ditched it on the bar, marching her away despite her protests.
‘Hey, I’d hardly had any of that.’
‘I’ll get you another later.’
She pulled to slow him, twisted back to catch another glimpse of Rosanna. ‘Do you think they’re okay? They look like they might kill each other.’
‘I think they’ll be okay. She’s all grown-up.’
Sophy really wasn’t so sure. She tugged her arm again. ‘She’s not as tough as she makes out.’
Lorenzo laughed, the glint in his eyes too dangerous for comfort. ‘She’ll be fine. Forget about it.’
Well, she wasn’t going to do that. ‘She’s my friend.’
‘Just give them five minutes.’ He looked at her, the darkness in him piercing now. ‘Or is it that you don’t want to dance with me?’
She went cool, despite the thudding in her heart. ‘I like dancing.’
‘Right.’
The music was loud—if they were to hear each other they’d have to lean close. Sophy opted for silence. But he was too close anyway, moving closer. And she couldn’t cope with the way his big body moved—with surprising grace—or the way he absorbed the beat so naturally.
She felt increasingly stilted, her pulse skipping—too fast for the rhythm of the music. She couldn’t relax—tried not to look at him at all. Until he grasped her by the upper arms and pulled her to him.
She gasped as their bodies collided.
‘You’re mad with me for leaving like that,’ he roughly muttered in her ear.
‘No, I’m not.’ She shook head and glared at him. ‘It was good you did, actually.’
‘Oh?’ His eyes glittered in the lights. It looked as if his temper was off the leash now.
‘Saved us from any awkwardness,’ she snapped.
‘And you’re not awkward now?’
‘No.’ She tossed her head, refusing to admit she was basically dying of discomfort. ‘But my shoes are killing me so I’ve had enough dancing, thanks. You don’t need me for anything tonight anyway, right? For the Whistle, I mean.’
‘No.’ His reply was frigid. Hard eyes raked her. ‘Not at all.’ He pushed her away and stalked through the crowd.
Sophy felt her own anger grow. What did he want—for her to fall at his feet again? To act the desperate female?
Never.
She pushed her way back to the bar where Rosanna was standing alone—a fresh cocktail in hand. She handed it out and Sophy gladly took a deep sip and handed it back.
‘Why don’t you just do him and be done with it?’ Rosanna asked as if it were the most logical thing in the world. ‘Honestly, the tension between you two is electric.’
Sophy didn’t inform her that she already had done him. And that instead of making the tension go away it had only made it worse. Much, much worse.
‘I should have known you’d have it in you. You never give yourself enough credit, as a result no one else does,’ Rosanna commented. ‘Our mistake.’
Have what in her? The ability to attract a shark like Lorenzo? Big deal. Rosanna had been right first time round—she couldn’t handle him. ‘What’s with you and the Vance guy?’ Sophy asked, wanting to think about something else. ‘I mean, that was rude, even for you.’
Rosanna shrugged. ‘Unfinished business, you know?’
Um, well, yes. Sophy knew Rosanna was angry, but she had her own frustrations too—and she needed space to deal with them. ‘I’ve had enough. I’m going home. You coming?’
Rosanna had the huntress look in her eye. ‘No. I’m finishing the business. Tonight.’
‘Are you sure?’ Sophy didn’t think it was such a good idea. Rosanna rarely allowed her emotions to bubble close to the surface and right now they were clearly on show.
‘Deadly.’
Sophy hesitated, wondered if she should stay—convince her friend to let it go. But she felt the presence at her back—the surge in awareness. She turned. Lorenzo—standing a millimetre away but looking totally remote. And she just knew he’d been listening in.
‘Stuck for a ride?’ he asked bluntly.
‘I can get a cab.’
‘No need. I’ll run you home.’
‘You’re not staying?’
‘Obviously not.’
She hesitated. It would be churlish to refuse. And she was handling this like a sophisticate, wasn’t she? ‘That would be great. Thanks.’
They walked from the bar. Not awkward at all? Ha.
‘It’s a real success,’ she said for the sake of saying something.
‘Yeah. Vance had the vision. It was a good one.’
But it was Lorenzo who had backed him on it. Kat had told her some of the background—turned out Lorenzo was the only one who would back Vance, when the banks wouldn’t.
‘I wonder how Rosanna knows him.’
‘You’ll have to ask her.’
Quite the clam, wasn’t he? She gave up on the small talk and simply watched him drive. The powerful machine purred under his hands, responding to his slightest touch. Just as she had. She started to sweat again, clenched her muscles to stop the softening. She still wanted him, badly. But she wasn’t going to make the mistake of asking him again—she didn’t want to hear him say no. He pulled over outside Rosanna’s villa. She undid her belt and had her door open in a split second. The sooner she got away from him, the more likely she was to escape with the little dignity she had left. But her deeply ingrained politeness made her bend and glance back into the car—right at him. ‘Thanks for the ride.’
‘My pleasure.’ His hard gaze bored into her.
Utterly still, she took in the intensity in his face. Why so angry? Burning with confusion, with embarrassment as she suddenly thought of an alternative to the ‘ride’ they were talking about, she slammed the door.
Lorenzo swore. Forced himself to wait until she was inside the door of her home and then put his foot to the floor. What the hell was he doing hovering around her? She was determined not to be bothered, that their night truly was all over. She couldn’t have made that clearer. And wasn’t that what he wanted?
No. He’d wanted her to admit she was feeling as out of sorts as he was—as unfulfilled, as hungry.
He gripped the wheel tighter and knew he’d better head back to the warehouse pronto before he did something stupid. He could feel it surging within him, the energy seeking to burst out of his skin. He hadn’t felt it this bad in a long time—the anger and the desire to destroy. The darkness deep within him was awake. Maybe it was a result of the illness last week. His control had been weakened. But it was the thought of Sophy that threatened it the most.
He’d just stay up all night. He’d get it back under control.
ROSANNA didn’t return that night but sent a safe-status text in the morning. Sophy grumped her way through breakfast, telling herself she desperately needed to Get Over Lorenzo.
She stayed at home all Sunday but went to work her usual ten minutes early on Monday. Tried to keep her pulse at a vaguely normal rate as she climbed the stairs up to her little domain. Not awkward. Not awkward at all.
She heard the voices as she neared the top. Stopped on the threshold of her office door. The girl was very pretty. Already seated in Sophy’s chair. Kat, the receptionist, was showing her the damn computer system already.
‘Hello.’ Sophy smiled, ultra bright and polite. She was not going to get evil over this.
‘Hi, Sophy.’ Kat looked up and beamed. ‘This is Jemma, who’s here to help you out.’
Oh, right. Help her out. Like she needed helping out? Like she needed a pretty, petite thing to do the work for her? Oh, please. After she’d just spent the last week giving the place a complete overhaul? She didn’t need help now. No, it was more like now the hard stuff was done she wasn’t needed any more.
Now he’d slept with her he didn’t want her around at all.
It wouldn’t be awkward at all then, would it?
The jealousy kicked in, the resentment swirling around, the energy building in her until she had enough fuel inside to launch a rocket to the moon.
‘Are you okay showing her some stuff for a while longer, Kat?’ she barely managed to ask nicely.
Kat nodded.
‘Great.’ Yes, she wasn’t needed at all. She gripped her bag all the more tightly. ‘I’ve just got to see Lorenzo.’
Kat nodded. ‘He’s about. I saw him earlier.’
Oh, good. Sophy briskly walked the few metres along the corridor to his office—it was empty. She checked the other office—the other staff were back now, having done their bit for Vance. But Lorenzo wasn’t in with them either. She walked faster—she refused to let him avoid this one.
She went downstairs but he wasn’t out in the yard. She went into one of the darkened rooms where they stored the cases of wine—all on pallets ready to be shipped. He was bending down by one, checking the dispatch label by the looks of things. He straightened when he saw her. Watched as she walked towards him, the heels of her shoes rapidly clicking on the concrete floor.
‘You’ve got a temp in,’ she said briskly.
‘Yeah.’
Even though she knew already, she had to take a second to absorb the hit from the casual dismissal in his tone.
‘I thought you were all about keeping Cara happy and not getting some clueless temp in?’ Sophy cringed even as she bitched at him; she was quite sure Jemma wasn’t clueless, but it had been his point originally. ‘Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked here? I’ve fixed the whole mess.’
‘I know you have. A five-year-old could work the filing system you’ve put in place. It’s perfect for a temp now.’
She reeled. Was that supposed to be a compliment? To make her feel okay about it? ‘You mean it’s the perfect time to get rid of me.’
He walked towards her. ‘What are you so mad about? I thought there were other things you wanted to be doing anyway?’
That wasn’t the point. The point was his shabby treatment of her. ‘You just don’t want me to be here any more? You’re embarrassed. You’re the one who’s feeling awkward.’
‘That’s not why I got a temp in.’
‘Yeah, right. Can’t handle it, can you? Anything remotely personal going on in your precious little domain.’
‘What happened with us is not why she’s here.’
‘That’s rubbish, Lorenzo. At least be honest and admit it. You want me gone.’
He swore right back at her—only worse. ‘Quite the opposite. Come with me.’
Given he now had hold of her wrist in a clench that threatened to break the smallest bones in there, she didn’t have much choice.
‘Lorenzo!’
He didn’t listen. Didn’t stop. Stormed out of the store room and up the stairs, past the offices until he got to the empty room at the back.
He let her go and she was still moving so fast from being dragged along with him she half ran into the middle of the room. He strode back to the door and slammed it shut, whirled to face her, his arms flung out. ‘This is why.’
She stared around the big empty room. There was a large table in the middle, a few chairs around it. ‘I don’t follow.’
Clearly fuming, he enlightened her. ‘You can set up in here. Work the rest of the day, half the night if you need to. To get your jewellery done for the show. This can be your workroom.’
She stared at him. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘No.’ He walked further into the room, turned his back to her so she couldn’t read his expression. ‘I’m vaguely useful. If you need to use power tools or something, I can help.’
‘You mean you can plug them in?’
He grunted then—almost a laugh. ‘Yeah.’ He faced her, his hands on his hips, still looking like a warrior about to launch an offensive any minute. ‘I just thought you could work here in the afternoons. You’d be around if the temp needed help but you’d have the time to work on your own stuff. You can stay later. You don’t have to pack it up at the end of the day, just spread out and get it done.’
Calm descended over her, her earlier anger soothed by a new suspicion. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
He looked even grumpier. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise.’
She blinked. Well, it had been a surprise. But he’d meant it as a nice surprise. ‘Why did you want to surprise me?’
He looked away. ‘I don’t know.’
Yes, he did. She waited.
‘You’ve done a lot for the fund,’ he muttered. ‘I thought it was a way of saying thanks.’
And that was all it was? She didn’t think so. She walked right into his personal space, her heart hurtling inside but trying to keep her efficient cool look on the outside.
He stiffened but didn’t move away.
‘Did you want to do something nice for me, Lorenzo?’
He looked to the side but still didn’t step back.
She smiled and took another pace closer. And closer still.
His hands were suddenly on her arms. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I thought I’d say thank you,’ she breathed oh-so-innocently.
His gaze dropped to her lips. His fingers tightened that extra notch but the rest of him stayed rigid.
Bingo.
The guy still wanted.
Well, the guy would get.
But not yet.
She reached up on tiptoe, brushed her lips ever so gently against his jaw—that inch too close to his lips to be purely platonic as he had once done to her. She stayed there a second longer, whispered in a way she’d only ever fantasised about, ‘Thank you, Lorenzo.’
She tried to move back but his hands were keeping her there now. ‘Sophy.’
Part warning, part what? Sophy couldn’t decide. But the whisper seemed to have gone down quite well.
He sighed—part groan—and his fingers softened, smoothing over her skin. ‘You smell good.’
‘Do I?’
He nodded. ‘I smell you everywhere.’
‘Cheap shampoo. Everyone uses it.’
‘No,’ he half laughed. ‘It’s you. Only you. And you don’t use cheap shampoo.’
Oh, that was nice. She let her weight rest against him a little more.
‘If we do this again, and I mean if, then no one knows,’ he said firmly.
‘What, it’s our “little secret”?’ She pulled back to look at him. She wouldn’t have thought he’d be one to care.
‘I’m not having gossip on site. No one is to know.’
‘So we remain professional through the day and meet up for rabid sex at night? Is that it?’
His whole body tensed.
She stepped closer, her confidence blossoming despite his obviously conflicted feelings. At least it meant he had feelings. ‘Let’s get one other thing straight, Lorenzo. If we do this again, and I mean if, then it’s for more than one night.’
He swallowed.
‘We’re not done until it’s finished,’ she told him quietly. She was not having another couple of days like this. She’d work him right out of her system. She’d had a taste of danger and she wanted to take it all until there was no danger left.
‘But it will finish.’
‘Sure.’ She nodded. It was serious physical chemistry, that was all. She’d get her stuff done for the exhibition and be able to walk away. A week or so would be enough to neutralise it. ‘Deal?’
He nodded. ‘Come upstairs with me now.’ His hands were seeking already, sliding beneath the hem of her clothing, hunting for bare skin.
‘I thought you didn’t want to have sex here?’ What about gossip onsite? Hell if any of them came looking for either of them now they’d be in trouble.
‘I’ve changed my mind.’
As his hot gaze drank her in she could read his thoughts and she struggled to stay calm.
She put her palm on his flushed cheek. ‘What about Kat? And Jemma and the others?’
He closed his eyes. ‘Sophy.’ He sounded so tormented.
She reached up. ‘I want you.’ She kissed him. His arms tightened and he didn’t let her free of the kiss. But his tension eased, his hands stroking with care now. So that had been what he needed. How surprising—so the neediness wasn’t all her? She could feel his heart pounding against her. Maybe they could go upstairs—sneak up there now just quickly.
Her phone rang. And rang and rang.
Sophy broke the kiss. ‘I have to get that,’ she muttered.
He looked at her, bitterness flashing on his face. ‘Of course you do.’
She scrabbled in her bag to find the phone at the bottom, smoothed her hair behind her ears, quickly inhaled to cover her breathlessness and put a smile on her face so her greeting would sound friendly. ‘Sophy speaking.’
He watched her, his face as readable as a stone. She flashed a wider smile at him.
‘Hi, Ted, what’s up?’ She swung away as she listened. ‘And you need me to pick it up? Sure. No problem. Give me the address.’ She dug back into the bag for a pen—no point asking her brother to text the details; he would say he didn’t have the time. Sophy repeated the address back to him, glanced up in time to see Lorenzo walking out of the room. Two minutes later the call was dealt with. Sophy stared at the door, wondering why he’d gone.
She went back into her office—found Kat had left Jemma figuring out stuff on her own.
‘It’s great you’re here.’ Sophy smiled, meaning it this time.
But Jemma’s attention wasn’t on her. She was looking out of the window.
Thud, thud, thud.
Sophy didn’t need to look to know what it was but she did anyway. He was back out there already bouncing his damn ball. Well, she wasn’t going to go running after him, not this time. She looked across and frowned at the fence. It was covered in even more graffiti now.
She didn’t see him the rest of the day, didn’t expect to see him until the next. But when her doorbell rang she wasn’t surprised.
‘Have you eaten?’ she asked as she opened it to let him in.
He was leaning against the door jamb. Dressed entirely in dark clothes—black trousers, a charcoal V-neck tee. ‘That’s not why I’m here.’
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.