Unbuttoned by the Boss: Unbuttoned by Her Maverick Boss / The Far Side of Paradise / Rub It In

‘You’re doing it, Sophy. This is such a great opportunity.’

‘You’ve just told me to learn to say no.’

‘Only to the things you don’t really want. This is something you do want, isn’t it? This is something to push for. Put your ambition first for once.’

‘I will.’ Sophy groaned, but Rosanna was right of course. ‘When are you back?’

‘Later in the week. Another flying visit home and then off again.’

‘You don’t get tired of it?’

‘No.’

And perhaps if they saw each other more they’d drive each other nuts. The taxi finally pulled up and Rosanna strutted down to get it, her ponytail swinging, her ultrahigh heels tapping and her trolley rattling along the concrete path.

‘Don’t say yes to anything else while I’m away,’ she called as she got into the cab. ‘I mean it.’ She stopped and opened the door again to holler, ‘Especially not Lorenzo Hall!’

‘Kittens have claws, you know.’

‘Not enough to make a mark on a man like him.’

Laughing, Sophy shut the front door. Rested against it for a moment, listening to the vast silence Rosanna had left behind her. She’d been right. Lorenzo was out of her league. And probably not genuinely interested anyway—he was just amusing himself by making her squirm.

Rosanna was right about something else too. Sophy needed to finish up her pieces and prepare for the exhibition. It was a fantastic opportunity and she shouldn’t blow it. Inspired, she went into her room and got to work on them—kept working late into the night. Once she got into it the excitement flowed and she decided to make the most of her lunch break—she had no time to waste if she wanted to get enough made.

She got to work early the next day to get ahead. She opened the window in the office to let the fresh spring air in. Looking down, she saw Lorenzo was out the back. Wide brush in hand, he was covering the graffiti with black paint—to match the rest of the fence. So it bothered him enough at last? Sophy thought it was a bit of a shame. But, unable to resist, she watched. His jeans hung that little bit low on his hips, an old tee was stretched across his broad shoulders. His feet were bare. He had his phone trapped between ear and shoulder and his voice carried across the still yard. As did his laughter.

She should probably close the window.

Instead she switched on her computer. She’d concentrate on the work. Not listen to every word winging through the window.

‘So what’s the castle like?’ Lorenzo asked.

Alex had taken Dani to Italy on a belated but extended honeymoon. They were staying in some castle for a few weeks.

‘Amazing. As it should be for the price. How’s Cara?’

‘Shattered but holding her own, I think.’ He swirled the brush through the paint. ‘She loved the flowers. She said the baby is tiny but she’s doing well.’

‘You’ve not been to see her yet?’

‘No.’ Lorenzo winced.

‘Renz—’

‘Not my scene, Alex, you know that.’ Happy families weren’t him. He was concerned for Cara, of course he was, and he’d sent over a ton of presents, asked if there was anything he could do. Of course there wasn’t, she and her husband and their entire extended families had it together. So he didn’t have to go and feel awkward around them.

‘What about the Whistle Fund? Did you find someone to help out?’ Alex moved on.

‘Yeah,’ Lorenzo sighed. ‘Cara did—a friend’s younger sister or something. One of those socialites who likes to be involved.’ Lorenzo jabbed a fence paling with the brush. ‘She’s so damn efficient. Organised. Officious. She looks like a frigid girl scout.’

Alex laughed. ‘So many adjectives, Renz—she bothering you?’

‘No.’ If only he knew.

Alex laughed even harder—okay, so he knew he was lying. ‘So she’s a babe?’

Lorenzo slapped some paint on even thicker. Yes, she was a babe. In more ways than one. All big blue eyes and blonde hair that begged to be ruffled. Hot-looking but with an air of innocence that Lorenzo wasn’t at all sure that he should taint. ‘She’s doing the job. That’s all that matters.’

The job would be done—brilliantly—and he’d find a permanent replacement very soon. Because he had too much else to do to be fixating on her all the time like this.

He ended the call to Alex, finished up the fence. Picking up the can, he swung round, glanced up to the first floor. The window to her office was open but he couldn’t see anyone sitting at the desk. Kat must have opened it.

He jogged up to his apartment—scrubbed the paint off in the shower. But he had an itch that just had to be scratched. He had to go have another look, see if he could make her spark again. It was like she’d put some kind of homing device in him, drawing him near. He went down to Reception and stole the mail from Kat’s tray. Then his feet just went to where she was.

Irresistible.

‘You going out with your boyfriend tonight?’ he asked. So lame. So unsubtle.

She froze where she was bent over a pile of papers.

‘You should come to the bar. It’s the opening night.’

‘You’re that desperate for customers?’ She looked up, all frost. Touchy this morning.

‘Actually no. We’re confident it’ll do the business. I just thought you might like to see it.’ He leaned his frame against the door. ‘It’s a nice little place, intimate. You can cuddle on a sofa in the corner.’ Would she be the type to cuddle in public? Somehow he didn’t think so—she had that aloof thing going. ‘Or you can work up a sweat on the dance floor. Oh…’ he paused deliberately ‘…you’ll be on the sofa, then, won’t you?’

‘I like to dance.’

His muscles tightened at the unexpected tinge of boldness in her tone, he looked harder at her.

‘But I already have plans for tonight.’ Oh, she was ultra cool—it made him suspect she was even hotter beneath.

‘With your boyfriend?’ Yeah, again, real subtle. But he really needed to know. Now.

Sophy gave up pretending to look at the file in front of her. ‘No,’ she said as calmly as she could—tricky given the anger zooming round and round her veins, searching for a way out. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’

‘No?’ Annoyingly he didn’t sound that surprised. Worse, he looked pleased about it.

‘I don’t want one.’ Damn, she’d tacked that on too quickly, sounded too vehement. And they both knew it.

His brows lifted. ‘Why’s that?’ He put the mail on her desk, the action bringing him even closer to her. ‘Did some twerp break your heart?’

She took a moment to draw breath—so she could answer with icy precision. ‘What makes you think I have a heart?’ She bit the words out with the experience of seven years’ elocution lessons behind her. ‘We frigid girl scouts don’t bother with them. We find machinery to be more efficient.’

Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her gaze—it clashed with his for a long, long time. His own eyes revealed nothing, yet seemed to penetrate her façade—delving into her secrets. She felt the blush rising—stupidly—when he was the one who’d been so rude. He’d said it. She’d only overheard it by mistake. So why was she the one feeling so uncomfortable now?

‘Struck a nerve, did I?’ Without breaking the stare he walked around her desk. ‘I only said you look like that, not that you actually are.’