Page 18 of The Tycoon's Ultimate Conquest
But Art had felt obliged to make good on his vague assurances that he was capable of helping out.
Besides, painting the room was proving to be a valuable way of avoiding her because the more contact he had with her, the more interested he became in digging deeper, past the polite conversation they shared, usually in the company of a million other people. After that first night she had shared nothing more about herself. They had had no time alone together. Her house was apparently a magnet for every person in the village who had nothing better to do than drop by for a chat.
The night before, someone she had bumped into several weeks previously had shown up for an informal chat about a problem he was having with his new employer, who had taken over the company and was trying to get rid of all the old retainers by fair means or foul.
To Art’s amazement, Rose had been happy to feed the guy and give him free advice. Little wonder she didn’t have much money going spare when she failed to charge for most of her services.
Her absolute lack of interest in making money should have been anathema to him but the opposite appeared to be the case. The more she invited the world into her house, the more he wanted her to slam the front door so that he could have her all to himself.
Nothing to do with the reason he was here.
Just because...he wanted to have her all to himself.
He’d managed to find a couple of hours during which he’d touched base with several of his clients and answered a couple of urgent emails and then he’d done some painting.
Now, at a little after six-thirty, he stood back to inspect his efforts and was quietly pleased with what he had managed. The mucus shade of green was slowly being replaced by something off-white and bland. Big improvement.
Still in paint-spattered clothes, Art went downstairs, fully expecting to find a few more waifs and strays in the kitchen, but instead there was just Rose sitting at the kitchen table, poring over a file.
From the doorway, he stood and looked, giving in to the steady pulse of desire rippling through him like a forbidden drumbeat. She was frowning, her slender hands cupping her face as she peered down at the stack of papers in front of her. She reached to absently remove the clasp from her hair and he sucked in a sharp breath as it fell around her shoulders in a tumble of uncontrolled curls. Deep chestnut brown...shades of dark auburn...paler strands of toffee...a riot of vibrant colour that took his breath away.
For once she wasn’t wearing something long and shapeless but instead a pair of faded blue jeans and an old grey cropped tee shirt and, from the way she was hunched over the table, he was afforded a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage.
She looked up, caught his eye and sat back.
She stretched and half yawned and the forbidden drumbeat surged into a tidal wave of primal desire.
No bra.
He could see the jut of her nipples against the soft cotton and the caution he had been meticulously cultivating over the past few days disappeared in a puff of smoke.
His erection was as solid as a shaft of steel and he had to look away to gather himself for a few vital seconds or else risk losing the plot altogether.
‘Took the afternoon off.’ Rose smiled and stood up. ‘Hence the casual gear. Drink? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger? I’ve actually gone out and bought some wine.’
‘The rent I pay doesn’t cover food. It’s Friday. Allow me to take you out for a meal.’
* * *
Rose hesitated. She hadn’t been out for a meal with a man for ages. She was twenty-eight years old and the thrills of her social life could be written on the back of a postage stamp.
‘Restaurants will be packed out.’ She laughed, anticipation bubbling up inside her. ‘Tourists...’
‘We can venture further afield. Name the place and I’ll reserve a table.’
‘Don’t be silly. You don’t have to...’
‘You don’t have to...?’Arturo shot her a wry look from under sooty lashes. ‘Anyone who knows me at all would know that those four words would never apply to me because I make it my duty never to feel that I have to do anything I don’t want to do. If I didn’t want to take you out to dinner I would never have issued the invitation in the first place. Now, name the place.’
God, Rose thought, who would ever think that she would go for a guy who took charge? She was much more into the sensitive kind of guy who consulted and discussed. Arturo Frank couldn’t have been less of a consulting and discussing man, and yet a pleasurable shiver rippled through her as she met his deep, dark eyes. ‘Name the place? Now, let me think about that. How generous are you feeling tonight...?’
Rose shocked herself because she wasn’t flirtatious by nature. Her mother had always been the flirt, which was probably why she had ended up where she had. That was a characteristic Rose had made sure to squash, not that there had ever been any evidence of it being there in the first place.
But she felt like a flirt as their eyes tangled and she half smiled with her head tilted pensively to one side.
‘I’m just kidding.’ She grinned and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. ‘There are a couple of excellent pizza places in the next village along. I can call and reserve a table. So...in answer to your invitation, it’s a yes.’
‘I’m saying no to the cheap and cheerful pizza place,’ Arturo delivered with a dismissive gesture, eyes still glued to her face.
