His eyebrows drew together and his features were taut. 'Not part of your plan, Sunshine?'
'You know it wasn't.' She hated the sarcastic tilt to his lips.
'Believe me, it's not part of mine either.' He pushed himself to a sitting position and deftly removed his runners and socks. Then he dragged his T-shirt up over his chest and Miller's insides, still soft and pliant, clenched alarmingly.
His easy acceptance of her brush-off was slightly insulting, and the illogical nature of that thought wasn't lost on her in the heat of the moment. In fact, it only made her more irritable. But whether at him or herself she wasn't sure.
She watched him jog down to the shoreline and gracefully duck dive beneath an incoming wave. Thank God she didn't like him very much. She wasn't ready to change her life for a man, and some deep feminine instinct warned her that being with him intimately, even once, would be life-changing.
She sighed. At least for her it would be. For him life would no doubt go on as normal.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TJ TIPPED his Akubra back from his forehead and rocked forward on his chair, and Miller knew the presentation she and Dexter had just delivered hadn't gone well.
'Miller, you're a talented girl, no doubt about it,' he drawled, in a condescending tone that set Miller's teeth on edge. 'But I told Winston International I'd give their show another shot.'
What?
Miller narrowed her eyes, sensing Dexter's surprise without having to look at him.
The reason TJ had even approached Oracle was because he was disgruntled with the service he'd been receiving from Winston International.
'I was thinking about it all last night, and it doesn't seem right to trash our relationship after so many years. One of their boys is going to show me what they've got Monday morning. In the meantime why don't you fix the concerns I have with your current proposal and get it back to me ASAP?'
Miller was thankful for the years of practice she'd had at pretending she was perfectly fine when she wasn't, and schooled her features into an expression of professional blandness. Was this because she'd rejected his advances in the restaurant the week before? He might be ruthless and without morals, but he didn't strike her as the vindictive type. But he did know Oracle was desperate for his business, so he had them over a barrel in that regard.
She had started to hate this aspect of business. The 'anything goes' mantra Oracle had adopted as the global economic crisis had deepened. In some ways she supposed it had always been there, but she hadn't noticed it in her single-minded climb to the top.
Now that she was almost there, so close she could see her name on a corner office overlooking the famed Harbour Bridge and the soaring white waves of the Opera House, she felt unsettled. Nerves, she supposed. But also the acknowledgement that maybe she didn't have the killer instinct that was required in the upper echelons of big business. Miller cared too much about business practice, and sometimes that didn't play out very well.
'Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have guests waiting to play croquet on the south lawn.'
You could have heard a snail move as TJ pushed back his chair and ambled over to the door. 'By the way, Miller.' He stopped and held her unwavering gaze. 'Tell Maverick to quit stalling on taking the Real Sport sponsorship deal, would you? My people don't seem to be able to pin him down but I'm sure you can.'
And there it was. The real reason Winston International were supposedly being given a second chance.
Miller heard the door snick quietly closed but hadn't realised she was staring at it until Dexter muttered a four-letter word under his breath.
Miller swung her stunned gaze towards him.
'You didn't know?' He raised a condescending eyebrow.
Miller felt her face heat up, not wanting to add to her cache of lies. 'No,' she admitted reluctantly. She'd had no idea one of TJ's subsidiary companies was professionally courting Valentino. Why would she?
Dexter swore again. 'Some relationship you've got there. Does lover boy have any idea he's put a multi-million-dollar contract in jeopardy?'
'Valentino didn't do that.' Although she was silently spitting chips that he hadn't had the decency to inform her of TJ's overtures so she could have been more prepared. 'TJ did.'
'TJ's just doing business.'
'Unethically.'
'Stop being so precious, Miller. Business is business. Getting this account will boost Oracle's reputation-not to mention yours and mine.'
Miller's stomach felt as if it had a rock in it and she methodically stuffed her notes back into her satchel.
'So, do you think you'll be able to convince Ventura to do it?'
Miller strove for calm. 'I wouldn't even try.'
'Why not?'
'Because courting favours is not the way I do business.'
'TJ Lyons's is the biggest account in the country and you want it as much as I do. Maybe more. Why wouldn't you use your influence? It's not like it's any skin off Ventura's nose. In fact, I'm quite sure TJ is offering to pay him a pretty penny for the use of his pretty face.'
Miller tried not to let her distaste show. This was a side of Dexter she hadn't experienced before.
'Maybe you could give him a little more of what you gave him on the beach this morning. To sweeten the deal,' he said snidely.
Miller felt her whole body go rigid and knew she wouldn't be able to hide her reaction from him this time.
'You know, Miller,' he continued softly, 'I expected more from you than to see you romping on the beach with your lover in full view of the house.'
Ignoring Dexter, she slammed the lid of her laptop closed and fervently hoped she hadn't broken it.
She didn't have to explain herself to Dexter, but she knew if he repeated any of this back at the office it would jeopardise her promotion. It was hard enough being taken seriously at this level, despite the pains she took to always to appear confident and professional.
Dexter tapped his pen on TJ's antique desk. 'It won't last, you know. You and Tino.'
'Whether it does or not is none of your concern,' Miller fumed, barely keeping a lid on her anger. 'And while we may have known each other at university, that does not give you the right to comment on my personal life. I'm here to do a job. That's all you need to think about.'
Dexter looked disgusted. 'Then do your job and remember that this isn't a school camp. And another thing.' He put his hand on her arm as she turned to leave. 'If we lose this campaign because of your lover, it will be your reputation that suffers, not mine.'
Glaring at him, Miller shook her head. 'You know, Dexter, earlier this week I could have sworn we were working on the same team. My mistake,' she finished coolly.
She heard something skitter across TJ's desk as she let herself out of the study-presumably the pen he'd been madly tapping the whole time.
'Miller! Dammit, we have to talk!'
Miller didn't stop. She had no idea what had gotten into Dexter, but she needed time and space to work out what to do next.
* * *
Tino was sitting on the bed when the door opened. Miller stood in the doorway like Medusa on a mission. He was on the phone to his sister Katrina, who was doing her best not to talk about Sunday's race and thereby placing it front and centre in both their minds.
Miller stepped into the room, her eyes sparking fire and brimstone in his direction.
Man, she was something else when she was riled-passionately alive-just like on the beach earlier. Not that he was thinking about that. He'd been honest when he'd told her it wasn't part of his plan, but watching her come apart underneath him had been possibly the most sensually arousing experience of his life, and as such it was damned hard to put out of his mind.
'Kat, sweetheart, I'll ring you back.' Glad of the excuse to end the conversation early, he dumped his mobile on the quilt cover beside him, reminding himself that he was supposed to be keeping his distance from Miller. 'Bad day at the office, Sunshine?'
She stalked across the room and dumped her computer bag and satchel on the small desk against the wall. Then she turned on him, hands on hips, her large aquamarine eyes shooting sparks.
Tino lounged back against the bank of pillows behind him. 'Are you going to tell me what's eating at you? Or is this one of those times when a woman tries to make a man's life truly miserable by making him play Twenty Questions?'
Her gaze narrowed. 'You've got that wrong. Women do not make men's lives miserable. People do that to each other.'
He stared at her and could see she was mentally wishing her words back. He wondered who had hurt her. It was obvious she didn't like talking about herself. Something they both shared, and that protective instinct she seemed to engender in him tightened his gut.