corrected with forced pleasantness. ‘He’s called a dolly grip.’
‘He’s also called a junkie.’
‘Jonah
once
had a drug problem; he doesn’t any more.’
‘Well, you should know. You’ve been photographed going in and out of that New York rehab clinic with him enough times.’
Also true. She volunteered there when she could, which was how she’d met Jonah. She just hoped Tristan didn’t know about the director’s marriage she was supposed to have broken up while working on a film the year before. But since it had been all through the papers…
‘And Guy Jeffrey’s marriage? Or is that so far back you can’t remember your part in that particular melodrama?’
Great. He probably knew her shoe size as well.
‘My, your man
is
thorough,’ she complimented dryly. ‘But do you think I might visit the bathroom before you remind meabout the rest of my debauched lifestyle? I don’t think I can hang on till tomorrow.’
Tristan scowled at her from beneath straight brows, and if the situation hadn’t been so awful she might have laughed. Might have.
She picked up her tote bag from the floor and grimaced as she realised she felt as if she was requesting a permission slip from the school principal when she had to ask for directions to the bathroom.
Tristan nodded towards a door at the rear of his office. ‘Leave the bag,’ he ordered, returning his focus to his computer screen.
‘Why?’
‘Because I said so.’
Rude, horrible, insufferable…He raised his eyes and locked them with hers. His gave nothing away about how he was feeling while she knew hers were shooting daggers.
She suspected she knew why he wanted her to leave it. She suspected he was trying to show her who was boss. Either that or he thought she’d been able to magic some more drugs into her bag after it had been searched by Customs. But, whatever his reasoning, he’d now succeeded in making her angry again.
She planted her hands on her hips, prepared to stare him down. ‘There’s nothing in it.’
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her as a predator might regard lunch, and goosebumps rose up along her arms. ‘Then you won’t mind leaving it.’
Lily felt her mouth tighten. No, but she wouldn’t mind braining him with it either—and damn him if he didn’t know it.
She stalked towards him, her narrowed eyes holding his, and before she could think better of it upended the entire contents of her tote onto his desk. He couldn’t hide his start of surprise, and Lily felt inordinately pleased at having knocked him off his arrogant perch.
‘Careful.’ She cast him her best Hollywood smile beforeswinging round towards the bathroom. ‘I left a King Cobra in there somewhere, and it’s trained to attack obnoxious lawyers.’
As parting shots went she thought it was rather good, but his unexpected chuckle set her teeth on edge. And if she was honest she was a bit worried she’d never find her favourite lipstick again in amongst all the rubble on his desk.
His bathroom was state-of-the-art, with slate-grey tiles and an enormous plate-glass shower stall. Lily would almost kill for a shower, but the thought of putting on her smelly travel clothes afterwards was not appealing. Plus Tristan was in the other room, and she didn’t want to risk that he might walk in on her. She didn’t think she could cope.
A sudden image of him naked and soapy, with water streaming off the lean angles and hard planes of his body, crowding her back against the slippery tiles pervaded her senses and made her feel light-headed. She wondered if he had an all-over tan, and then pulled a face at the image of male perfection that bombarded her. He probably had a very small penis, she thought, grinning at her wan complexion. It would only be fair.
But then she recalled the feel of his hard body pressed into hers in the secluded corner of that long-ago dance floor and knew he wasn’t small. Far from it.
She wouldn’t ruin her mood by thinking
‘He’s also called a junkie.’
‘Jonah
once
had a drug problem; he doesn’t any more.’
‘Well, you should know. You’ve been photographed going in and out of that New York rehab clinic with him enough times.’
Also true. She volunteered there when she could, which was how she’d met Jonah. She just hoped Tristan didn’t know about the director’s marriage she was supposed to have broken up while working on a film the year before. But since it had been all through the papers…
‘And Guy Jeffrey’s marriage? Or is that so far back you can’t remember your part in that particular melodrama?’
Great. He probably knew her shoe size as well.
‘My, your man
is
thorough,’ she complimented dryly. ‘But do you think I might visit the bathroom before you remind meabout the rest of my debauched lifestyle? I don’t think I can hang on till tomorrow.’
Tristan scowled at her from beneath straight brows, and if the situation hadn’t been so awful she might have laughed. Might have.
She picked up her tote bag from the floor and grimaced as she realised she felt as if she was requesting a permission slip from the school principal when she had to ask for directions to the bathroom.
Tristan nodded towards a door at the rear of his office. ‘Leave the bag,’ he ordered, returning his focus to his computer screen.
‘Why?’
‘Because I said so.’
Rude, horrible, insufferable…He raised his eyes and locked them with hers. His gave nothing away about how he was feeling while she knew hers were shooting daggers.
She suspected she knew why he wanted her to leave it. She suspected he was trying to show her who was boss. Either that or he thought she’d been able to magic some more drugs into her bag after it had been searched by Customs. But, whatever his reasoning, he’d now succeeded in making her angry again.
She planted her hands on her hips, prepared to stare him down. ‘There’s nothing in it.’
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her as a predator might regard lunch, and goosebumps rose up along her arms. ‘Then you won’t mind leaving it.’
Lily felt her mouth tighten. No, but she wouldn’t mind braining him with it either—and damn him if he didn’t know it.
She stalked towards him, her narrowed eyes holding his, and before she could think better of it upended the entire contents of her tote onto his desk. He couldn’t hide his start of surprise, and Lily felt inordinately pleased at having knocked him off his arrogant perch.
‘Careful.’ She cast him her best Hollywood smile beforeswinging round towards the bathroom. ‘I left a King Cobra in there somewhere, and it’s trained to attack obnoxious lawyers.’
As parting shots went she thought it was rather good, but his unexpected chuckle set her teeth on edge. And if she was honest she was a bit worried she’d never find her favourite lipstick again in amongst all the rubble on his desk.
His bathroom was state-of-the-art, with slate-grey tiles and an enormous plate-glass shower stall. Lily would almost kill for a shower, but the thought of putting on her smelly travel clothes afterwards was not appealing. Plus Tristan was in the other room, and she didn’t want to risk that he might walk in on her. She didn’t think she could cope.
A sudden image of him naked and soapy, with water streaming off the lean angles and hard planes of his body, crowding her back against the slippery tiles pervaded her senses and made her feel light-headed. She wondered if he had an all-over tan, and then pulled a face at the image of male perfection that bombarded her. He probably had a very small penis, she thought, grinning at her wan complexion. It would only be fair.
But then she recalled the feel of his hard body pressed into hers in the secluded corner of that long-ago dance floor and knew he wasn’t small. Far from it.
She wouldn’t ruin her mood by thinking
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