‘You’re right. I’m not. But that’s only because I expected you to refuse my offer.’
‘You did?’
He nodded gravely and the pressure of his hand lessened, although he didn’t remove it and didn’t appear to notice her surreptitious attempts to ease it away.
‘I did.’ He shot her a smug look. ‘Isn’t it nice the way I can tune in to you after only two weeks?’
Tessa ignored that. ‘Well, why did you bother to offer if you knew I was going to refuse?’
‘Because I still intend to help you out, whether you like it or not.’ Instead of heading towards the revolving door at the front, he swivelled her back round to the lift and pressed the down button. ‘I’m going to drive you to your house and, on the way, I’m going to stop off and get a take-away and, before you open your mouth to gently turn my magnanimous offer down, there’s no debate.’
She was ushered back into the lift, this time down to the basement, where a handful of people were given the privilege of secured parking. In central London that in itself was worth its weight in gold.
‘Slightly selfish reasons here,’ he continued, leaning back against the mirrored side of the lift.
‘What?’ Tessa’s voice was apprehensive. Trying to predict this man’s moves was like trying to predict the weather from a sealed box underground. Utterly impossible.
‘I need you to do me a small favour.’
‘Favour? What favour?’
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, as the lift disgorged them into the compact underground car park he led her towards his sleek, low-slung sports car, a shiny black Mercedes that was the last word in breathtaking extravagance and just the sort of car she would have imagined him driving. Not for him the big, safe cars with practical boot space and generous passenger-toting potential!
‘One of my babies,’ he said, grinning at her and sweeping a loving hand across the gleaming bonnet.
‘One of them? You mean you have a fleet of cars lurking away somewhere?’ Yes, she could imagine that too. A dozen racy little numbers tucked away somewhere, ready and waiting for when they might be put to use driving his racy female numbers to racy little nightclubs. She scowled in the darkness and wondered how such creative genius could be simultaneously shallow and superficial.
‘You snorted.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Had she?
‘You snorted just then. A very disapproving snort. What’s wrong about having a fleet of sports cars? I thought you women liked that sort of thing.’
‘Some might.’ His amusement was very irritating. She tilted her chin up and stared frostily out of the window.
‘But not you.’ He slotted a card into the machine at the side and the exit barrier went up.
‘That’s right,’ Tessa said crisply. ‘I happen to think that men who feel the need to buy small, fast cars are just subscribing to the truth of toys for boys.’
‘Toys for boys?’ Curtis chuckled. ‘I can assure you that I’m no boy! Haven’t I already proved that by the kind of coffee I drink?’
‘Yes, of course you have. Silly me. You’re all man!’ She slanted an ironic, sideways glance at him and just for a fraction of a second their eyes met and she felt a rush of unsteadiness. The glint in his eyes was wickedly, darkly teasing and for one heart-stopping moment it spiked into the very core of her, sending every pulse in her body shooting off into overdrive. ‘You might want directions to my house,’ she said in a very steady voice. ‘I live out towards Swiss Cottage. If you—’
‘I know where Swiss Cottage is.’ He paused. ‘Now to the original point of my conversation.’
Curiosity overcame apprehension at the oddly serious note in his voice and Tessa shifted to look at him. ‘Yes. The favour you wanted to ask of me. What is it? If it’s to do with working overtime, then I’m sure it won’t be a problem, just so long as you let me know in advance what days you require of me.’
‘Oh, well, some overtime might be needed but it’s to do with my baby, actually.’
‘Your car?’ Wasn’t this baby thing going a little too far? Boys with toys was bad enough but boys obsessed with toys was beyond the pale!
‘No, of course not,’ Curtis said impatiently. ‘I’m talking about Anna!’
‘Anna?’
‘My mother did tell you about Anna, didn’t she?’
Tessa thought back. She was certain she would have remembered the name. ‘No,’ she said slowly and thinking hard. ‘Who is she?’
Curtis swore softly under his breath and pulled the car over to the side of the kerb, then he turned to face her. ‘Anna is my daughter.’