and he’s not into men. Not that I care, about the latter, I’m just pleased he isn’t suggesting we share a room, as Tony probably would have done.
‘Charley?’
‘In that case, no problem. Take it.’ It’ll be a pain to try and find somewhere nearby and I doubt we’ll be in the suite much anyway.
‘If you’re sure? That’s helpful, thank you.’ After a moment Alex hands me a key card and I take it, careful not to let our fingers touch. I so need dinner and then bed. I’m exhausted, and annoyed with him. Some time to get my head together would be heavenly.
‘I will call someone to take your bags up,’ the receptionist says in her lovely lilt as the concierge rolls up with our luggage in a gold trolley.
‘We can manage,’ Alex replies, ‘but thank you.’
I raise an eyebrow. For a billionaire he’s oddly humble. From the bewildered expression on the receptionist’s face she thinks the same but simply nods, handing Alex a slip to sign and asking if he knows where he’s going.
‘Yes, thank you.’ Walking round me, he starts unloading our luggage, looping the strap of his bag diagonally across his broad chest, retrieving his briefcase and folding the suit carrier over the same arm. When he bends over to grab the handle of my case with his free hand, I step forward.
‘That’s okay, I can get it,’ I say hastily.
‘It’s not a problem, honestly,’ he looks up at me.
His dark lashes are so ridiculously long. I edge away. ‘Honestly,’ I echo, ‘I’m fine.’
‘I’m trying to be a gentleman. Are you always this stubborn?’
‘I’m not being stubborn,' I defend. ‘I just like taking care of myself.’
Picking my case up, he gives me a small smile that curls my toes. ‘Being independent is admirable but it’s okay to accept help sometimes. Now let’s get upstairs and get rid of our bags so we can eat. We have a table booked for eight thirty.’
‘We do?’ I squeak. Being with this guy in a professional setting is one thing, but at a cosy table for two?
‘It’s what usually happens when people go on business trips together.’ He gives me a pointed look. He’s right, damn it. Leading the way to the lift, he stabs a small round button set in a gold panel. ‘Besides, we need to discuss the schedule and how we’ll work best together.’
With me blindfolded so I can’t see your gorgeousness?
The knee-jerk thought flashes across my brain.
‘Or do you suggest we sit separately and shout across the restaurant at each other?’ he asks drolly.
‘No, of course not,’ I mutter. Couldn’t he have filled me in on the plane? Although I guess he had other work to do then, and it’s not for me to challenge. But won’t dinner be a bit uncomfortable? My cheeks go hot with irritation as I mentally rehash his snotty remark in the car about almost believing me.
His blue eyes focus on my face like a satellite tracking device. ‘You’re a funny colour again. Are you all right?’
‘Uh-huh. Just a bit warm.’
He stares down at me, eyes narrowed, but thankfully the lift arrives with a discreet ping. He gestures for me to go first and once we’re both in stabs the P button. Excitement leaps up. I’ve never stayed in a penthouse before. Have I fallen asleep and woken up in the middle of
Pretty Woman
? But of course, I’m not a prostitute and sex is definitely
not
going to form part of the arrangement for the next few days.
We sink back against opposite walls of the lift. I fan myself, trying to cool down. The memory of his words reverberates through my head and a pressure builds behind my jaw.
‘Did you mean it?’ I blurt.
He raises an eyebrow, ‘Mean what?’
‘What you said in the car? About not believing me? What I said about men and money?’
‘I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I said I almost could.’
‘Same difference,’ I shoot back. ‘And not very nice.’ Then I snap my teeth shut so I don’t say anything I might regret.
He looks at my hands where
‘Charley?’
‘In that case, no problem. Take it.’ It’ll be a pain to try and find somewhere nearby and I doubt we’ll be in the suite much anyway.
‘If you’re sure? That’s helpful, thank you.’ After a moment Alex hands me a key card and I take it, careful not to let our fingers touch. I so need dinner and then bed. I’m exhausted, and annoyed with him. Some time to get my head together would be heavenly.
‘I will call someone to take your bags up,’ the receptionist says in her lovely lilt as the concierge rolls up with our luggage in a gold trolley.
‘We can manage,’ Alex replies, ‘but thank you.’
I raise an eyebrow. For a billionaire he’s oddly humble. From the bewildered expression on the receptionist’s face she thinks the same but simply nods, handing Alex a slip to sign and asking if he knows where he’s going.
‘Yes, thank you.’ Walking round me, he starts unloading our luggage, looping the strap of his bag diagonally across his broad chest, retrieving his briefcase and folding the suit carrier over the same arm. When he bends over to grab the handle of my case with his free hand, I step forward.
‘That’s okay, I can get it,’ I say hastily.
‘It’s not a problem, honestly,’ he looks up at me.
His dark lashes are so ridiculously long. I edge away. ‘Honestly,’ I echo, ‘I’m fine.’
‘I’m trying to be a gentleman. Are you always this stubborn?’
‘I’m not being stubborn,' I defend. ‘I just like taking care of myself.’
Picking my case up, he gives me a small smile that curls my toes. ‘Being independent is admirable but it’s okay to accept help sometimes. Now let’s get upstairs and get rid of our bags so we can eat. We have a table booked for eight thirty.’
‘We do?’ I squeak. Being with this guy in a professional setting is one thing, but at a cosy table for two?
‘It’s what usually happens when people go on business trips together.’ He gives me a pointed look. He’s right, damn it. Leading the way to the lift, he stabs a small round button set in a gold panel. ‘Besides, we need to discuss the schedule and how we’ll work best together.’
With me blindfolded so I can’t see your gorgeousness?
The knee-jerk thought flashes across my brain.
‘Or do you suggest we sit separately and shout across the restaurant at each other?’ he asks drolly.
‘No, of course not,’ I mutter. Couldn’t he have filled me in on the plane? Although I guess he had other work to do then, and it’s not for me to challenge. But won’t dinner be a bit uncomfortable? My cheeks go hot with irritation as I mentally rehash his snotty remark in the car about almost believing me.
His blue eyes focus on my face like a satellite tracking device. ‘You’re a funny colour again. Are you all right?’
‘Uh-huh. Just a bit warm.’
He stares down at me, eyes narrowed, but thankfully the lift arrives with a discreet ping. He gestures for me to go first and once we’re both in stabs the P button. Excitement leaps up. I’ve never stayed in a penthouse before. Have I fallen asleep and woken up in the middle of
Pretty Woman
? But of course, I’m not a prostitute and sex is definitely
not
going to form part of the arrangement for the next few days.
We sink back against opposite walls of the lift. I fan myself, trying to cool down. The memory of his words reverberates through my head and a pressure builds behind my jaw.
‘Did you mean it?’ I blurt.
He raises an eyebrow, ‘Mean what?’
‘What you said in the car? About not believing me? What I said about men and money?’
‘I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I said I almost could.’
‘Same difference,’ I shoot back. ‘And not very nice.’ Then I snap my teeth shut so I don’t say anything I might regret.
He looks at my hands where
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