Page 26 of Unbuttoning Her Brooding Boss

‘There’s an intercom system,’ he explained finally. ‘I’ll go organise something.’

She nodded.

Ordering only took a couple of minutes, and he knew from experience that it wouldn’t be long before the discreet staff served them.

‘Why don’t we have a drink on the veranda while we wait for the food to arrive?’ he suggested. ‘Champagne?’

She shook her head as she walked out to the deck. ‘I won’t drink alcohol—it’s a long drive.’

She was afraid of losing her inhibitions with him. Was it because she was close to that already? His skin tightened. He liked the thought of her being as clear-headed as him when it came to it. It would make her surrender to him all the more satisfying. And he’d make damn sureshewas satisfied.

‘Juice?’ he offered instead.

‘That would be great.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘But don’t let me stop you enjoying a drink.’

‘I don’t drink alcohol. My birth mother was an addict—I’ve no intention of making the same mistake.’ Why he’d said it, he didn’t really know. To shock her? To see if he could shake that perfect facade again?

Her eyes widened. ‘I’m sorry about your mother,’ she said softly.

‘I’m addicted to travel instead,’ he joked lightly, wanting to step back from that too personal admission.

‘And work?’ she noted.

‘One and the same.’ He smiled. ‘My brothers lay into me all the time about being a workaholic. But George is such a party animalanyonewould look like a workaholic compared to him.’ He glanced at her. ‘And you’re addicted to the internet?’

‘True,’ she admitted. ‘But some addictions are worse than others.’

‘Maybe.’ He shrugged as he went to the small discreet bar fridge and found the juice options. All can be damaging.’

‘But some can help people build great things.’

And others can destroy.’ He poured two glasses of juice.

‘So what about balance, then?’ she asked.

‘Impossible—we all know that.’

‘So you’re all or nothing?’ she teased.

‘I think so.’

He was all gorgeous. Stephanie took the glass he offered and went outside to sit in one of the wicker chairs. The sun was starting its slow descent, casting a gorgeous red-orange glow over the treetops and the smooth water. She’d barely had a chance to take a sip of her drink when she heard a vehicle pulling up.

‘Give me a second...’ He walked round the corner of the deck.

For a crazy moment she thought she might give him anything he asked for.

She collapsed back into the comfortable cushions as he walked from view. Shesohad to get a grip on herself. She didnotrun away with handsome men. Didnotdo whatever they suggested with no regard to anyone else. Hermumdid that, but not Stephanie.

So she had to get out of here while she still could.

But then he reappeared, wheeling a sleek trolley towards her, looking so fine in that white shirt and those navy trousers and with that edgy look back in his eyes.

‘Silver service?’ she asked, taking in the gleaming dishes. Quality simply dripped from every aspect of the place.

‘You’d expect anything less?’

No. She wouldn’t. And she imagined there’d be some unbelievably rich concoction on the trolley that she wasn’t sure she could stomach.

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