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Her Not-So-Secret Diary(15)

By:Anne Oliver


Jared and a client were still in his office. With the door closed. The  ebb and flow of a tense-sounding conversation warned her it wasn't a  good time to interrupt. Was she to assume the arrangement still stood?

The door opened and both men walked out.

'Sophie. What are you still doing here? It's almost six.'

'I needed to finalise a few details.' Like where to meet you tonight?  But she could hardly ask that in front of a client and give the  impression it was business. Not with the flush she could already feel  creeping up her neck.

She smiled blandly at his client, then busied herself tidying her desk.  'I'm just on my way home now.' Not that Jared heard; he was already  walking away. She clicked off the screen and closed down the computer.

A moment later, Jared returned from seeing the guy to the elevator. 'You're still here.'

'You noticed,' she said with asperity and immediately regretted it. She  reached for her bag. It was the sort of jealous female response you  might give a lover and wasn't what she'd meant, in addition to being  totally inappropriate in the workplace.

He stared at her a full ten seconds with those intense green eyes. She  had him speechless. A first. Then he said, 'You're still on for tonight,  I hope,' and something in his gaze sharpened.

She felt its effects right down to her toes. 'Why wouldn't I be?'

'So you're one of those quick dressers, are you? That'll be a first.'

'Not particularly,' she said, trying for nonchalant, but that flick of  his eyes over her body as he'd spoken had felt like a flame thrower.  'You haven't told me where to meet you.'

'I told you yesterday I'm picking you up at seven.' The tone of command with a dash of impatience.

'I said I'd meet you there … wherever.'

'No. You didn't.'

He was right, she realised. He'd cut her off when she'd tried to ask.  With a little resigned inward sigh, she slung her bag over her shoulder.  She didn't have time to argue and she knew she wouldn't win this one.  She also knew it wasn't all business, so she asked, 'What's the dress  code for this place you've chosen?'

'How does casually elegant sound?'

'Fine.'

'Pacific Gold apartments … ?'

'Unit 213.'

'Make it seven-fifteen.'

Humour snuck in and she arched a brow. 'We agreed on seven. You saying you can't be ready in fifty-five minutes?'

He didn't reply but his eyes flashed a challenge.

She shook her head once. 'Seven o'clock.' She turned away quick smart  and headed towards the lift, praying, praying, he didn't follow. She  simply couldn't handle another trip in the elevator with him right now.



Jared drove home only a touch above the speed limit and jumped in the  shower. He didn't have time to think about the tight sensation in his  chest, nor to acknowledge the sense of anticipation he hadn't felt since  his teenage years. Which was just as well.

Moments later he ran his fingers through his damp hair. Quick shave,  splash of subtle cologne at the last minute. He threw on dark chinos and  an open-necked oatmeal linen shirt. No tie. Casual business dinner. One  that might lead to a more relaxed after-dinner coffee somewhere?

He was walking to the front door at the same time as Melissa, also dressed for a night out.

'Wow.' Looking him up and down, she sniffed the air. 'Is that a new cologne?'                       
       
           



       

'You and Crystal gave it to me last Christmas.' He just hadn't had an occasion to wear it. 'And it's a business dinner, Liss.'

'I certainly hope so-I heard you arrange it in the car. You wouldn't win  any dates with that austere approach … ' She studied him some more, met  his eyes with a cryptic look. 'You don't look business …  Are you going to  be late home?'

'I don't know, Liss,' he said, annoyed and running late. She was asking him that question? 'Why?'

'Just letting you know I'll be out late too,' she said, walking to the  door ahead of him. 'I'm meeting friends for burgers then we're going  clubbing later.'

'Don't get into a vehicle with anyone who's been drinking.'

He was checking for his wallet but he could almost see her eyes rolling  up as she walked down the garden path when he heard, 'No, Daddy.'



He made it to the front door of Sophie's apartment with two minutes to spare.

The door opened as he was about to knock and he was looking straight  into those eyes, touched with humour now. 'What took you so long?' she  said.

'No points for being early?'

Her warm brandy eyes weren't the only things attracting his attention.  His gaze dipped. She was wearing a slim white knee-length dress. A  complicated series of straps pulled the bodice into a bunch of fabric  just below her collarbone and tied behind her neck, leaving her  shoulders bare. Stunning smooth shoulders that gleamed like honey in the  amber light behind her.

So she hadn't gone with strictly business either.

Half-moon earrings the colour of limes dangled on gold thread. She wore a  matching bracelet. She reminded him of a tropical milkshake cocktail,  long and cool and inviting. Too inviting. He wished they could just dine  in. On each other.

'I'll grab a jacket.' She hesitated before asking, 'Do you want to come in for a moment?'

Come in? His groin tightened. More than you know and for a lot longer than a minute. He cleared his throat. 'Maybe later.'

She disappeared while he counted the various species of tropical flora  on the other side of the balcony that formed a courtyard within the  apartment block, and thought about penguins and Antarctica and ice-cold  beer.

When she pulled the door closed, mercifully he had himself pretty much under control. 'I hope you like seafood.'

'Love it.' She led the way. They took the stairs down. Three flights. 'I try to keep fit.'

She didn't need to explain; it was obvious the elevator was a problem  for her. He thought of telling her so. It would be ridiculous if they  couldn't even manage an elevator together, but he also wanted to make it  to the restaurant with a dinner partner. He wanted her at ease with  him. It was vital to have her comfortable in their working relationship.  Or any kind of relationship.

The journey took ten minutes. On the way Jared stuck to the usual and  asked about her working day. They pulled up outside Enzo's Seafood and  Grill and were shown to a corner table overlooking the beach where a few  tiny lights winked on the dark strip of ocean.

With the fine weather this evening, the windows had been removed,  allowing the balmy tropical evening in and giving the impression they  were outside. On the decking a string of party lights and a couple of  flaring bamboo torches provided a warm ambience.

After they'd ordered, for the first time all day, Sophie forced herself  to relax. To enjoy the experience of dining with a gorgeous man at a  classy restaurant and converse on a variety of non-threatening topics.  The latest in local entertainment, the real estate market. The pros and  cons of living in a high-profile tourist destination.

The champagne he'd ordered was perfection-cold and fruity and fizzy. Her  prawn and avocado cocktail tasted fresh and sweet. On the table, the  tiny tea light inside its ruby glass cube seemed to draw them closer.  Way too intimate for a business dinner but business wasn't what this was  about. Had never been what this was about. She knew it. He knew it.

While she waited for him to initiate the discussion on the supposed  reason they were here, she took another sip of wine and let the bubbles  tickle her nostrils and dance on her tongue. She'd not seen Jared in  anything other than business attire and this more relaxed Jared was no  less stunning.

He'd taken the short time he'd had to shave and to splash on something  that made her want to lean forward and breathe him in. But she wouldn't  want to stop at breathing …  To avoid the temptation, she reached for her  napkin, pressed it to her lips and leaned back.                       
       
           



       

'Good evening, Jared.' A good-looking Italian appeared at their table.  Black hair and eyes, and a roguish smile, which was currently directed  at Sophie. 'And to your lovely dinner companion tonight.'

Jared grinned at him then at Sophie. 'Enzo. I'd like you to meet Sophie  Buchanan. She's filling in for my PA for a few days.' He turned to  Sophie. 'Enzo's Rico's brother.'

'Ah, yes, the best fish and chips in Coolangatta. I remember. Pleased to meet you, Enzo.'

He smiled at her again, all smooth Italian charisma. 'We're very busy  tonight or I'd stay and chat. Charmed to meet you, Sophie. Come back  another time, meanwhile have a pleasant evening.'

Sophie smiled back. 'Thank you.'

They'd decided on a shared seafood platter; a variety of oysters, salt  and pepper calamari, grilled prawns and tempura garfish, served with a  crisp rocket salad drizzled with a lemon olive oil dressing.

Conversation ceased while Sophie, who'd eaten nothing all day but her  sandwich several hours ago, savoured every delicious mouthful and made  each one count. How often did she get to eat at such a pricey  restaurant? The answer was never.