Page 27 of Seducing Her Scarred Boss

‘I’m a deep sleeper,’ he said dryly.

She shifted a letter unnecessarily. That was dangerous territory. ‘What a pain for you to have to paint over it again.’

He shrugged. ‘I’ll leave it for a bit.’

‘Fair enough.’ She was quite pleased. She liked the colours, the whole fence looked on fire with the crimson reds and burnt gold coils.

She logged off the computer, gathered a couple of items to put back in the cabinet. It only took a moment. Then she reached for her favourite shiny handbag. Definitely time to make her exit.

* * *

Lorenzo leaned against the window frame and watched. Wow, she really was efficient, wasn’t she? Had filed him away as if he were one of those pieces of paper. Checked him off her list and moved on. Forgotten about him.

And he shouldn’t give a damn.

And he didn’t—it was just his cock making things complicated. Leaping to attention when he merely walked the corridor—before he’d even seen her, let alone caught her fresh scent on the gentle breeze. The desire gnawed at him—had ruined his sleep last night. He’d lain awake, the noise of the city at night loud in his ears. So often it had soothed him. He’d spent so many nights listening to the traffic, imagining he was in one of those cars and just driving, driving, driving away.

And the restlessness had driven him outside—to the cover of darkness where he could create. Despite it being his property, it still thrilled him—helped release the anger that had burned in him since he could remember. Making his mark—he was there and they couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how much they wanted to.

Alex had had a bit of bitterness with the mess his parents had made. Lorenzo was filled with it.

He’d chuckled as he worked on the fence. What would the do-good miss say if she knew it was him? He’d spent hours on it—switched all the lights in the warehouse on to cast a glow out to the yard. But in the end it hadn’t done its job. Nor had the five-mile run he’d taken after. He was still angry. He was still frustrated.

He still burned inside.

But he’d discovered something that offered the softest respite from the old torment.

Sophy.

Unfortunately she was also the cause of half his trouble. Somehow just being around her—and her perfect looks, her proper manner—brought those old feelings back.

‘You are coming to the fundraiser tomorrow night, aren’t you?’ he struggled to ask casually.

‘You really need me to?’

‘Yes.’ Hell, yes. ‘It would be good to have you on hand to make sure the information side of things goes smoothly.’ He totally made it up. There was no information side of things.

‘Then I’ll be there.’ She paused by the door on her way out, turned back to look at him, an irritatingly benign smile on her face. ‘I assume it’s all right to bring a date?’

Every muscle locked onto red alert. A date? He had to force his jaw apart to answer. ‘Of course.’

* * *

Rosanna flew back late Saturday afternoon. Sophy gave her an hour to relax in the bath then asked her as she lay on the sofa flicking through a magazine. ‘You have to come out with me tonight.’

‘And you’re so desperate for my presence because?’

‘I need your support.’

Rosanna tossed the magazine to the floor. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing. But I don’t feel like walking into a crowded bar all by myself.’

‘What bar?’

‘Wildfire. Only opened this week. There’s a fundraiser tonight for the Whistle Fund there. I have to go. But I don’t want to go alone.’

‘How is our favourite shark?’

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