Irresistibly Exotic Men: Bed of Lies / Falling For Dr Dimitriou / Her Little Spanish Secret. Laura Iding
it was because his obsession with fixing things had encountered a brick wall. Marco would add, “Because sometimes things can’t be solved with a charming smile, bro!” with a wink and a grin.
Maybe.
He grappled with the real reason, as if by wrestling with it he could reduce it to ashes. But he was plumb out of luck. The answer was purely selfish.
Attraction.
She wasn’t his type—too secretive, too stubborn, too take-charge. He liked everything straightforward, out in the open, no surprises. Yet there was something about her that got his blood pumping anyway.
He missed having a woman in his life. Missed the way they felt, their smell, their laughter. Their softness.
It was strange, having a woman refuse his help even when she was so obviously neck deep in problems. But Beth had made it clear she could function perfectly well without him and would continue to do so long after he was out of the picture.
So why did that rub him the wrong way so much?
Beth refused to spoil her day by thinking about her former bookkeeper. Instead, she focused on what she could control: namely, her attraction to Luke De Rossi. So when she picked up Laura she was on the receiving end of a one-sided conversation all the way to work. As she nodded and responded in the appropriate places, her conscience held up its end.
Be honest—you want him. What do you have to lose if you succumb to temptation for once? If you let him kiss you, touch you?
Her control. Not to mention her professional ethics and privacy.
Ha. You were interested long before that massage. And no one can take something from you you’re not willing to give.
Sure. It’d only take one eager reporter, one mistake, and your whole life could be exposed. Again.
She focused on the road with exaggerated concentration just as she tried to convince herself she wouldn’t care when Luke was gone. She’d be glad. Glad.
A hand waved in front of her face. “Still with me here?”
“Huh?” Beth blinked.
Laura rolled her eyes. “The light’s green. I asked if we need to do a double order on our cranberry oils for Christmas.”
“No.” Beth tempered her abruptness with an apologetic smile and pressed the accelerator. “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
Laura shot her a sideways glance. “Anything to do with that sneaky little rat Ben?”
“Got it in one.” She smiled weakly.
“Well, thank me for clearing your morning appointments today. I rescheduled everyone so we could go through yesterday’s new shipment. Oh, and Jack Benson says he hopes you feel better.”
Ahh, Jack, her plantar fasciitis retiree. “Am I sick?”
“Nope. People just assumed anything else wouldn’t keep you away.”
As the traffic ground to a halt again, Beth gave the younger girl her full attention. Her employee had the kind of personality and looks that could coax a smile from a statue—she’d be dangerous if she were self-centered. But Laura was the nicest person she’d ever known.
“Do you think I’m a workaholic?” Beth asked.
“Weeeell … You are. A bit.”
And honest to a fault. “I see.”
“The last time you took a day off was … Actually, you’ve never taken a day off. Since when’ve you had the chance to just lie on the beach and veg? Or come to think of it, been out on a date?”
Beth snorted. “And why haven’t you said anything before?”
Laura shrugged. “You never asked before. And you like working. The weird thing is you’re our target market, but you don’t practice what you preach.”
“And you think I need a man.”
“No. I think you need a little fun.” Laura grinned again. “And a little sex wouldn’t hurt.”
They pulled into the parking lot and Beth wound down her window for the ticket, effectively cutting off Laura’s train of thought.
If someone had told her a week ago she’d be sharing a house with Luke De Rossi, running from reporters and hunting down an ex-employee and a missing half-million dollars, she would’ve laughed in their face.
A shiver shot down her back. Yes, Luke seemed to be helping with her Ben problem. And she was attracted to him. But the issue wasn’t physical, it was mental. She didn’t want to let him into her life, into her secrets. Her head screamed danger every time she laid eyes on him.
Even if her body screamed the opposite.
At exactly nine-thirty, Beth and Laura walked down the mall toward a darkened shop front.
“Smell that,” Laura said softly as Beth unlocked the doors and whooshed them open.
Beth took a deep breath, punching in a security code as Laura flicked on the lights. “Frangipani, lavender. Lemongrass.”
“I can smell coffee,” Laura singsonged, dangling a bag of gourmet beans between two fingers. They both grinned.
“You fill the pot and I’ll fix things up here,” said Beth. She selected a key and switched on the cash register, straightened the flyers on the counter, then placed an errant pen in a cup.
Casting an eye over the familiar interior, she breathed in again with a smile, loving the crazy mix of scents that hit her senses. The place wasn’t huge, but she’d made use of every available space. A giant oak tree mural decorated the walls, each branch a protruding glass shelf that displayed various jellies, lotions and powders. Bath bombs, frothies and bottles of shower gel were divided in four tiers on the trunk and a small white sink sat discreetly in the wall, a half-empty body-wash tester bottle on the side.
As usual, everything was in its place.
This was her reality. It was just another normal day.
Please.
Crossing her fingers, she turned to the office, drawn in by the delicious coffee bean and mocha aroma.
Laura turned from the kitchenette and held out a packet of cookies. “Biscuit?”
“This early?”
“It’s never too early for Tim Tams.”
Beth grinned, plucked out a chocolate-covered cookie and munched slowly. “You want to check out the stock while we eat and drink?”
“Thought you’d never ask. I’ve got my eye on those new bath bombs.”
Beth made good use of the internet on her lunch break, searching for anything and everything on Luke De Rossi and Gino Corelli, then making a call to the titles office and local legal aid. Armed with new knowledge, she felt the rest of the day fly by until finally, at five-thirty, she dropped Laura off at her apartment then made her way home.
The sensationalist articles were no surprise. But what she hadn’t expected was the absence of Luke in the society and gossip columns.
She sighed, reluctant admiration warring with self-preservation as she pulled into her driveway. Despite how she personally felt about him, Luke was the quintessential high achiever and proud of it. A perfectionist. A man who was doing everything to protect his career. Who still reminded her of every arrogant, demanding suit she’d met, despite the man’s overwhelming charm.
Yet he’d still ended up poking holes in her prejudices. He could’ve stepped back and called in his highflying lawyers but he hadn’t. He could’ve left her on the airport tarmac. And he could’ve escaped that reporter crush alone, but instead he’d shielded her from the cameras, even offered to help her with the missing money.