She should mind, but she found herself shaking her head. She was always in control of every aspect of her life but now, with those green eyes—which she could now see were shot with threads of gray and amber—fixing her with their direct gaze, she suddenly found she didn’t mind in the least.
David Tremayne sat backin his chair, feeling more relaxed than he’d felt in a long time. He couldn’t take his eyes off Amber—her red hair had worked its way out of the comb, which had held it loosely when he’d first picked her up. It framed her face like a halo of orange, making her blue eyes brighter. They always sparkled—it was the first thing he noticed about her—but now they positively glowed. And her lips—the way the crimson lipstick smeared a little from being over-enthusiastic with a napkin. It was all he could do to stop himself from leaning over and wiping it away with his finger, or, even better, his lips. He topped up her sparkling water.
This wasn’t going at all in the way he’d intended. Get to know the enemy—seduce them, or her, if necessary—and then eliminate the opposition. No adverse publicity, only a woman to let down gently after it was all done and dusted. That had been his reason for checking her out at the café, and for asking her out. He had to admit that, after that first time when he’d seen her in the street, and he’d felt a bolt of lightning attraction between them, it hadn’t been hard for him to carry out his plan. After all, it would be the best, least headline-grabbing, way of securing the future of his new project. But he hadn’t banked on this at all.
He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy listening to her. She made him laugh, which was more than could be said of most people. And her worldview was so different to his as to be refreshing. Being with Amber made him forget about things, made him more optimistic about the future. That people could live in the world and be so innocent of bad things awoke in him something he thought had died—his own innocence.
But now, as the evening had progressed, listening to her had taken a back seat to admiring her. His attraction to her had been instant, some kind of physical magnetism which he’d heard about but would never have believed existed if he hadn’t experienced it himself.
Then, when he’d seen her earlier in the week on the bench seat overlooking the sea between two people with disabilities, chatting away, making them laugh while, at the same time, helping them eat the chocolate brownies she’d brought out to them from the café, he’d felt something clunk inside of him. Literally. Like something falling into place. And it hadn’t moved since. But it had become a part of him wherever he went. Even in meetings he’d be aware of a part of Amber in his thoughts, he’d wonder what she was doing, what her views would be of the people who were presenting to him. She was like a virus… but in a good way. But it wouldn’t last and then his life would be back to normal. Except better, because he’d have quietly eliminated all opposition to his new business venture.
He sighed quietly to himself as he drank in her eyes, her oval face and her finely drawn lips which, he noticed in surprise, weren’t moving. He looked up, alarmed, into her eyes once more. One fair eyebrow was raised and laughter sparkled in her eyes.
“Have you been listening to a thing I’ve been saying, Mr. Tremayne?”
Before he could answer he felt a warm possessive hand clamp on his shoulder. He turned to see an ex girlfriend—one from whom he’d had difficulty extricating himself—glaring at Amber.
“David!” she said, turning that cool gaze on him. “What a surprise. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
He rose and kissed her proffered cheek. “Katherine,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Obviously.” Her gaze returned to Amber.
“Katherine, I’d like to introduce you to Amber. Amber, this is Katherine Jones, an old friend.”
Katherine raised one delicately plucked eyebrow at the epithet and extended her hand to Amber. “How lovely to meet David’s latest.”
David winced at the inference. As if Amber was one of a long line; she was nothing like any that had come before, and there had been a lot of them.
Amber rose and shook hands with Katherine. “Nice to meet you, Katherine.”
David couldn’t help but compare Katherine’s lush curves clad in a figure-hugging black dress to the light that was Amber. Even their voices reinforced the difference. Katherine’s mid-Atlantic accent had a studied, sultry tone while Amber’s was true Kiwi and clear as a bell. He liked that. There was no pretense with Amber. He looked back at Katherine, who forced a smile as she looked from Amber to David. She let Amber’s hand slip as if sensing an opposing force, and one stronger than her own.
“Anyway,” Katherine fixed her smile on her face. “I’ll leave you to your little tête-à-tête.” She turned and inclined herself to him, revealing a cleavage which he had to admit was impressive. “See you around, David.” She kissed her finger and placed it on his lips in an embarrassing display of intimacy.
She walked away, and he turned back to Amber in time to see her eyes widen in confusion.
“Everything all right, Amber?”
Her mouth twitched as if trying to summon a smile which refused to surface. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you’ve been silent for the first time all night.”
“Oh, yes, that.” She shrugged and sighed and pushed her food to the side of her plate.
“Isn’t the food to your liking? I’ll have them bring something else.” He raised his hand to attract the waiter.
“No, the food’s wonderful. But I seem to have lost my appetite.”
The waiter came over and cleared away the plates. David frowned and folded his arms on the table. “What’s the matter? Is it something I’ve said?”
“No.”
“Do you feel okay?”
“I did until Katherine came over.”
“Ah.” He sat back. “I see.”
