To Marry Mcallister. Кэрол Мортимер
shrugged. ‘If you aren’t, I’m sure that Richard and I can sort out a time between the two of us,’ he drawled softly.
Sabina’s eyes narrowed. ‘Contrary to what you may have assumed otherwise, Mr McAllister—I make my own appointments,’ she snapped coldly.
Once again he gave that humourless smile. ‘That wasn’t my impression at our last meeting.’
Because at the time she had been at the disadvantage of not wanting him to tell Richard she had been avoiding his telephone calls for the past week!
She looked at him consideringly for several long seconds. ‘You know, Mr McAllister,’ she finally said softly, ‘I really don’t give a damn what was or wasn’t your impression at our last meeting,’ she told him scornfully. ‘In fact, nothing about you is of the least interest to me,’ she added scathingly.
He raised dark brows. ‘No?’
‘No!’ she confirmed hardly. ‘Goodbye, Mr McAllister.’ She wrenched the door open.
‘Au revoir, surely, Sabina…?’ he taunted softly.
Sabina didn’t even turn and acknowledge the obvious challenge, striding briskly out of the room, closing the front door softly behind her as she left.
It wasn’t until she was safely ensconced in the back seat of the car, Clive driving back to Richard’s house, that she allowed free rein to her feelings.
She didn’t like the way Brice McAllister looked at her. Didn’t like the way he had of talking to her on a very personal level. Didn’t like him near her. In fact, she just didn’t like him!
And she had no idea how she was going to achieve it, but she had no intention of being alone with Brice in his studio ever again!
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