Bestselling Authors Collection 2012(149)

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.