Pitch Imperfect(36)

Sarah looked towards the reception desk. “I have very good friends here, some who’ve helped me adjust to the Borders with home-cooked dinners. Venison stew and succulent...Oh, I won’t go into details, but it was delish.”

Home cooked? Anjuli stared at Rob, just as she suspected Sarah had intended. The Rob she knew could burn a piece of bread before it got to the toaster. What made the reporter so special she merited dead Bambi? He’d never cooked for her.

“There’s nothing like making new friends, is there?” Sarah asked, eyes wide and innocent. “New town, new beginnings.” Her nails tapped the screen again. “Perhaps our interview can focus on your new beginnings.”

Coolly, Anjuli returned her look. She wasn’t going to rise to the bait, of course, but, uh-oh, that thing twisting her lips did not feel like a serene, polite smile. “I can think of a few old friends I’ll be spending time with.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes and Anjuli wanted to slap her—and herself. What the hell was she doing? And was her voice really that catty? She wasn’t competition for Rob and instead of letting Sarah know that, she was doing the opposite.

Sarah snapped her phone shut. “Of course, we could think of another approach.”

Yeah, full frontal. “Look, let’s cut to the chase. I don’t sing anymore and I don’t give interviews. I’m not interested in renewing romantic relationships or forming new ones, so why don’t we put the claws away? I’ve looked at your nails and you could do me some serious damage.”

Sarah’s mouth opened slightly and then she laughed. “Fair enough, but all’s fair in love and reporting, and I’m not giving up.”

“Giving up on what?”

Both women turned as Rob joined them.

Sarah tossed her hair. “On what I want, of course.”

Her flirtatious smile made Anjuli grind her teeth. “I would appreciate being left alone, no interviews and no hassle.”

“Never say never. Isn’t that right, Rob?”

He looked at Anjuli. “I don’t believe in never.”

Rob led Sarah to the revolving glass door. They would make a striking couple, no matter Mrs. P.’s opinion. Sarah’s pale beauty contrasted with Rob’s swarthiness and her willowy frame emphasised his muscular physique. Maybe Rob would fall in love with Sarah Brunel and share his life with her.

Share his children.

Anjuli’s neck tingled. Mrs. P. was staring at her, sporting a knowing smile. Well, of course she was, because here she stood, gazing dumbly at Sarah as if she were watching a thief run away with her handbag.

“There’s a lovely drawing of Castle Manor at the end of the corridor, dear,” Mrs. P. said. “Why don’t you have a look at it?”

Halfway down Anjuli stopped in front of a large illustration of Heaverlock Castle. The artist had captured everything about the ruin that made it special, including the forlorn quality of its isolation. She studied it for a few seconds before moving on to the charcoal of her new home. It was on the back wall, facing her as she approached. Cast in shadow, Castle Manor retained its abandoned air, seeming to melt into the moors behind it. The artist had added glass panes where they were missing, solid stone where there was plywood. He had cleared the debris and chopped down the silver birch on the roof. Anjuli stared at the drawing, gaining strength from seeing her home as it should be, elegant and gracious.

“I commissioned those a few years ago,” Rob said from behind her.

Anjuli jumped but didn’t turn around, keeping her eyes on the charcoal until Rob was barely a breath behind her. Did he think crowding her would make her swoon into his arms? She stood ramrod straight as he told her about the artist. On the surface Rob’s voice was pleasantly informative, but below its placid tones he layered it in challenge and seduction, daring her to pull away.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She would show him that he was just like any other man. His voice grew husky, and the more he talked the warmer her skin and the quicker her breath, until she felt as if she’d been running a marathon. Dizzy. Dwarfed by the broad shoulders and muscular body behind her. She wanted to sink into his chest, feel his hands on her hips and his mouth on her neck.

Anjuli almost tripped over her heels in her haste to get away. “Castle Manor will only look perfect in pictures if we don’t get down to it.”

His smile bordered on smug. “My sentiments exactly.”

Anjuli looked towards the exit. “I thought you had all the time in the world.”

“I apologise for keeping you waiting,” Rob said, his serious tone belying the spark of mischief in his eyes.