Page 17 of Unbuttoning Her Brooding Boss

‘Working?’

‘Volunteering,’ he corrected. ‘At an orphanage.’

‘Doing “the charity thing”?’ A tiny thread of jealousy tinted her tone.

‘Is that cynicism I hear from Steffi Leigh? Is it so awful to want to help others?’

Of course not. And cynicism wasn’t what she’d intended. But now he’d heard it the only thing she could do was make a joke of it. ‘So you did your year and now your conscience is salved? You can spend the rest of your life doing the five-star thing?’

‘Answer me this, Ms Five Ways with Ugly Festive Woollens, doyoudo charity work?’

‘Sure.’Charity begins at home.But she played up the flippant. ‘A cocktail party. A fundraising dinner. Art auctions. You know how it goes...’

And she wassofaking it now. She’d never been part of that wealthy socialite do-gooder scene.

‘Perhaps.’ He glanced at her, his eyes glinting brighter than the sun.

Possibly. Perhaps.Full of the non-committal, wasn’t he?

‘That’s your phone again.’ She grimaced as it rang loudly yet again.

‘You can’t cope with the fact I won’t answer it?’

‘Isn’t it rude?’

‘Isn’t it more rude to sit texting while we’re trying to have a conversation?’ He nodded pointedly at the phone in her hand. ‘You’rethe one addicted to your phone. Updating your social media status every two seconds?’

‘I was letting Tara know I’m going to be a little late, otherwise she’d worry. Don’tyoucheck in with family when you travel?’

‘No.’

‘Well, someone wants younow.’

That grim look hardened the line of his mouth. Whoever it was, he was fully into avoidance. And what was the betting it was a woman?

Irritation spurted. ‘What if it’s an emergency?’ she prompted.

‘It’s not.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘Because we have a special ringtone for emergencies.’

For a half-second she gaped at him. ‘You’re making that up.’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘What if someone is worried about you?’

That oddly tense look crossed his face just has his phone started ringing again. ‘I can’t answer it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’mdriving.'

‘You want me to answer it?’ she asked, not meaning it at all.

Suddenly he smiled. ‘Would you mind? That’d be great.’

Huh?He’d called her bluff.

‘Fine.’ She twisted to get his phone from where it lay on the tiny back seat, swiping the screen to answer it. ‘Jack Wolfe’s phone—this is Steffi Leigh speaking. How may I help you?’ she asked in dulcet tones.

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