The Love List. Eve Devon
calmly drove until he reached the next junction, turned the car around and drove back so that he could ease the car to a halt right outside the back entrance to her offices. Where, for the first time in recorded history, there was an empty parking space, complete with meter. He switched off the engine and calmly turned to look at her.
‘Do you know, I have a feeling you were about to nip out into the middle of the traffic and run off, and all without setting up a meeting to discuss Ryan.’
‘Oh. Well.’ She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. How could she have forgotten who it was that had brought him to her office this morning? Was she so obsessed with KPC at the moment that nothing else could intrude? Or was it that in the space of a hundred yards, it had become awkwardly apparent to her that breathing in his scent and getting herself all stirred up was making it impossible to concentrate on anything but him. She needed to get out of this car. She needed space to be able to clear her head. Sephy was right. She really was out of practice at talking to men. ‘So. Thank you for this morning. If I could grab my laptop and the information Eleanor left you with..?’
‘What’s the hurry?’
‘No hurry. Well, I do have a lot of work to do. Why don’t you phone me with a time for us to discuss Ryan. You must be really exhausted by now—’
‘I’m really “something” right now. Not sure “exhausted” is the word, though.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as rude. I—’ she tailed off when she saw smouldering blue eyes track their way to her lips. I have to get out of this car before I do something properly stupid, like climb over onto your lap, grab you by the lapels of that sinfully sexy blue suit you fill out so well and give in to this insane need to touch my lips to yours.
She was being utterly ridiculous, of course. She was supposed to be offering up a business-like thank you. Not wanting to devour a man she’d just met. Maybe if she hadn’t caught sight of his chest packed with all that tight, hard muscle in her bathroom. Yes, Nora. Absolutely blame the pecs. But honest to God, he’d looked so good standing there, was it any wonder she’d lost her professional A game?
Biting down on her bottom lip again she tried to ignore his scent. The smile. The body. When he wasn’t using all that muscle helping people he was probably working out in his own gym. Yes, that body…she mentally swooned, picked herself up and gave herself a little slap.
Never mind the package, get with the programme. None of this should be on her radar right now. Her sole focus should be on KPC. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for all your help.’
‘You don’t?’
At his quiet, teasing question, Nora dragged her gaze to his. Oh, not fair. It turned out that when Ethan Love actually wanted a person to know what he was thinking, he had no problem letting his eyes do the talking.
She simply didn’t understand why he was able to affect her so, but his charm offensive was leaving her with no other option than to hastily erect her official Deflector Shield.
‘Ethan, I—’
‘Have to go?’ he asked with an indulgent smile on his face.
‘Uh-huh.’ Like soonest. A few minutes more and she’d be simpering, whimpering and quite possibly whispering heated instructions as to where he could put those beautiful hands of his.
What on earth was wrong with her? She closed her eyes and pictured herself surrounded by her Deflector Shield. The one she employed when she panicked that she was getting side-tracked from her goals in life.
‘Okay. You’re excused,’ Ethan said grinning. ‘It was nice meeting you, Princess. I’ll be in touch.’
Nora looked at him suspiciously. Perhaps he was bored bouncing off her official Deflector Shield because he seemed to be letting her off the hook. Which was a good thing, she reminded herself. He was Love-Rat’s brother.
Way, way too complicated.
Tearing her gaze away, she refused to acknowledge the slice of bitter disappointment that she felt. She glanced up at the impressive steel and glass construction that housed KPC. That was where she belonged. Not down here in this intimate space with a man who slipped past her Deflector Shields and was connected to her family.
She let the seatbelt drag through her fingers as she released the buckle, and, muttering a heartfelt ‘thank you’, exited the car.
She was halfway up the shallow steps at the rear of the building when she heard his amused and oh-so-casual, ‘Oh, Nora?’
She couldn’t help herself. Her head whipped around at the sound of her name, which sounded like a warm invitation on his lips.
Ethan was at the bottom of the stairs, holding the Moorfield bag out to her. ‘This should help you out with the separation anxiety.’
Nora eyed the bag as it swung tantalisingly back and forth from his forefinger.
‘Eleanor asked me to pick out something that I thought represented you best,’ he told her. ‘I think she was rather expecting to get a handle on you by the shoes you wore.’
Nora’s eyes narrowed speculatively.
‘She was a little thrown when she got me instead of you,’ Ethan continued. ‘But I assured her I was up to the challenge.’
Wait, he had picked out shoes for her? Was he kidding? She stared at him. He wasn’t. He really wasn’t. For what seemed like the hundredth time that morning she could feel herself getting all heated, flustered and distracted. That enticingly sexy shoe bag had been sitting there on the back seat of his car the entire drive back. Had he been thinking of her wearing what he’d chosen every time that slow devilish smile had come out to play? She snatched the bag and clutched it to her chest.
‘Don’t you want to open it up and check what I chose for you?’ Ethan asked with a look that said he knew damn well she was practically salivating to open it.
‘I’m super busy,’ she muttered inanely, needing her will to hold out just a little longer because he looked way too sure of himself and she was feeling…so much less sure and quite possibly a little punch-drunk on him.
‘Uh-huh, well I think you’re going to take the lift instead of the stairs and you’re going to be looking in that bag before you’re in your office.’
Nora, clasped the bag tighter to her, gave him her haughtiest look and then turned on shaky legs to walk into the KPC offices.
Don’t you dare look back, Leonora King. Don’t you dare.
It wasn’t until much later that afternoon that she realised she had left her own carrier bag, containing the remnants of her shoe, on the front seat of her car. How could she have done that? Had she subconsciously wanted to leave part of her in his car so that he would continue to think about her? Wasn’t the fact that he’d picked out shoes for her enough?
She rose abruptly and went over to where she had mutinously stashed the Moorfield bag earlier. Glancing around, she decided to store it behind her door, where it couldn’t continue cluttering up the place. She would not look inside until she’d put in a good afternoon’s work. Better yet, she wouldn’t look until she was back in the safety of her own apartment, where she could have whatever reaction she wanted to have in private.
Her thoughts inevitably returned to the shoe she’d left in Ethan’s car and she sighed, quite disgusted with herself. She was now seriously worried that in the space of one day she had turned into some sort of sad Cinderella cliché.
The phone on her desk rang and she pounced on it, glad of the interruption. ‘Yes?’
‘I have Eleanor