‘I thought you said that you were going to go and watch some television!’ she accused hotly, snatching the frying-pan from the cupboard and proceeding to give him her most withering look.
‘No, actually you said that I was going to watch television, so that I could be tucked safely out of the way…’ He grinned with wicked amusement as his barb homed in with staggering accuracy.
Tessa recovered her aplomb quickly. ‘And why aren’t you?’
‘I did make an effort…’ He shrugged and walked into the kitchen where, infuriatingly, he began poking around in the bowl of chopped vegetables while Tessa watched in affronted silence. ‘But…’ he spun around and looked at her ‘…absolutely nothing on…’
‘Not even a quiz show?’ she asked sweetly.
‘Oh, yes, a couple of those. I wasn’t convinced. Can I help?’
‘Yes. You can go and watch TV and leave me in peace to get this food ready.’
‘I like your taste in music. What is this? Compilation?’ Without asking, he gathered up the stack of CDs that she kept on the counter by Lucy’s assortment of herbal tablets, and made himself at home on one of the kitchen chairs so that he could sift through them and give her his valued opinion on each and every CD.
‘I think we should stick this one on,’ he announced, waving one of the CDs at her in a satisfied manner. ‘Lots of old numbers. In fact, I’m a little surprised you’re not into more modern music!’
Tessa made an inarticulate noise and began her work with the frying-pan, some butter and garlic, and the vegetables.
With staggering arrogance, he put on the CD he wanted to hear, a compilation of old soul songs, from way back to Otis Redding, and the next thing she felt was his warm breath fanning her neck as he asked her for a dance.
Already hot from standing in front of the stove and having to contend with his presence in the kitchen, virtually right under her feet, Tessa now felt a surge of blazing warmth invade her body in a rush.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she snapped, jabbing the vegetables in the frying-pan with overdone savagery.
‘What…not now? Not with me? Or not ever with anyone…?’
‘Shut up!’ She daredn’t lift her eyes to his, even when she was aware of him drawing back. If he even glanced at her flushed face, she knew that he would read every shred of wild confusion inside her, every treacherous tug of excitement filling her veins like poison. ‘Why?’ he asked interestedly. ‘Am I touching on a raw nerve? Don’t tell me that you’ve never danced to a beautiful piece of music in the privacy of your own four walls? With a man?’
Actually, no.
Tessa added some herbs and cream to the mixture and stuck a saucepan of water on to boil for the pasta, hiding behind the pretence of busyness to avoid answering his prying questions.
‘You’re not a man,’ she said, turning around to face him, arms folded protectively across her breasts. It was very important that she get that straight right now, she decided, before her wayward mind started taking too many unwelcome detours. Yes, he was attractive. Well, formidable, really. Yes, she had been aware of his sex appeal before now, but not like this, not in the claustrophobic confines of her own house. She had a deep-rooted fear that if she didn’t lay down her boundaries, something from him, some oozing magnetism, might just seep into the walls around her, into the furniture and lie waiting in ambush for her whenever she returned home.
‘You’re not a man,’ she repeated, ‘You’re my boss. You’re the person I happen to work for, who just happens to have found himself in my house for reasons beyond my control, and it’s no good you giving me a little speech about how you like to know your employees inside out, about how you like them being three-dimensional. I don’t feel any need to be three-dimensional with you. So, no, I won’t dance with you and whether I ever have at home with anyone is none of your business!’
That had wiped the grin off his face, she noticed. In fact, it seemed to have temporarily deprived him of the power of speech, which should have been good, should have been a clear pointer that she had won this particular battle, but for some reason the look on his face now was even more unsettling.
He had gone absolutely still and there was a dangerous quality to his stillness that had every pulse in her body racing.
‘Wh-which isn’t to say that I resent your probing…’ she stammered, lying through her teeth. ‘I mean, I know that it’s part and parcel of your personality…’
‘Being nosy?’
‘Curious,’ Tessa amended hurriedly. ‘Interested in everyone and everything…which brings me to my cooking…you’ll be interested to know that I’m not awfully good at it…’ She fervently prayed that he would take the bait, accept the olive branch she was holding out, which was by way of apologising for her criticism while sticking to her guns. He did. He gave her one of those heart-stoppingly crooked smiles and suggested wine with the meal, reminding her that none of them had touched what she had brought in earlier, before he had driven Susie home.