Get the message, Issy. He only looks uncomfortable when you drool or attempt to flirt with him - he really isn’t interested!
The problem was that although my brain was shouting that message loud and clear, I wasn’t used to men being immune to my charms. I was intrigued that he didn’t just ignore my behavior - his body had reacted to me yesterday at Norman & Wilde’s in the way that I was used to. But mostly, he just looked incredibly disconcerted or even angry. Perhaps he isn’t used to women coming on to him. Perhaps he prefers to be in control - maybe he likes to make the first move … then why hasn’t he?
I remembered the beautiful bouquet of flowers that he had sent. Perhaps he is an old romantic and he likes to court and woo his women. Ew, instant turn off!!! But then again, what a challenge it would be to make him want me - to feel that he simply must have me. To make him beg for one night of no holds barred sex in that incredibly deep sexy voice. To feel that amazing, muscular body pounding into mine …
I closed my eyes and squirmed in my seat. God, the things that I could do to that body. The things that that body could do to me. The knowledge that his lack of interest in me was only making me want him more was infuriating. I knew then that I would stop at nothing to have sex with this man. It was now a mission. Okay, so throwing yourself at him doesn’t work. Perhaps a more subtle approach is in order. Can I do subtle? There’s only one way to find out …
I sighed deeply and opened my eyes. Lucas was standing directly in front of me, holding out a wine glass. He looked wary so I smiled to try to put him at ease. It seemed to do the trick. For the next ten minutes, he shared the discussions that he had had with his architect earlier in the day as we gradually drank our wine. He continued to relax and became very animated and confident around me. I asked lots of pertinent questions that made him think from different perspectives. I saw him staring at me a few times - and I got the distinct impression that I was earning his respect. The architect was in favor of having smaller apartments than Lucas had envisioned.
“I hear what he is saying, and it does make good financial sense to divide the building up into a larger number of smaller apartments,” he said. “But my gut instinct is to go with fewer, larger apartments. What do you think?”
I looked at him in surprise. “I am an interior designer, Lucas. I don’t get involved until after these kinds of decisions have been taken. This is way outside of my remit.”
“I know but you have seen the place. You liked it as much as I do. You must have an opinion, surely.”
“I’m sure you have managed quite well without my opinions until now. You have managed to build up quite an impressive property portfolio after all,” I countered.
“But this is different. I have never acquired a building that I have really cared about. I usually look for maximum return in a minimum timeframe but this …”
A quiet knock on his door interrupted us. “Yes,” shouted Lucas, irritably.
One of the men from the reception desk opened the door and took one step into the office. “Mr Hunter, Malcolm Dennis has the CAD drawings for you.”
Lucas’ face changed swiftly from annoyance to eagerness. “Send him in Daniel, please.”
Daniel stepped back and was replaced in the doorway by yet another man wearing a grey suit. Is there some kind of uniform or something? He hovered on the threshold looking uncomfortable.
“Malcolm, come in. This is Miss Prince, my new interior designer.”
I looked at Lucas in surprise. Your new interior designer? Then I recovered my composure and stood, holding out my hand to the middle aged man who was walking towards us. We shook hands. Ew, limp, clammy handshake.
Malcolm quickly informed us that he had done some preliminary drawings as requested by Lucas and the architect. One set showed the mini Dakota divided up into eight apartments on each floor; the other set showed four apartments on each floor. Lucas thanked him and he looked relieved to be able to escape from the office.
Lucas carried the drawings over to the large oak table and spread them out. I followed out of curiosity. He leaned over the designs, totally absorbed. I was quickly engrossed too. At exactly the same moment, we both leaned in to the centre to study the same part of one of the designs. Our faces were suddenly inches away from each other - our foreheads must have been almost touching. I could smell body wash and his divinely male smell. I inhaled slowly, savoring it and willing him not to move away. I could feel that pull, deep inside. I wanted to turn my face towards his. No! I wanted to at least close my eyes as I inhaled his scent. No! I had to resist any temptation to let my body follow its instincts. It was agony. I was almost pushed beyond my limits of control when I suddenly realized that he wasn’t breathing.