She snapped to. ‘This is the cupboard above the coffee machine. The coffee beans are always in the cupboard above the coffee machine.’ She pointed to a cupboard behind him. ‘That should be full of red wine. Nice red wine,’ she added.
He opened the cupboard, pulled out a bottle and his eyebrows shot up. ‘This is good stuff.’
‘He’ll have stocked it from his personal cellar. There’ll be a box of expensive chocolates in the fridge, too, even though I keep telling him not to store them there, along with my favourite brand of cooking chocolate.’
He opened the fridge door. He closed it again. ‘You’re right on both counts.’
She shrugged and turned back to the coffee machine. ‘He knows all my weaknesses.’
‘And he likes to ensure you have everything you could possibly want.’
He spoke the words lightly, but she caught the thread of steel beneath them, the contempt. She knew exactly what he thought—that she was spoiled and wilful, that she took advantage of her father.
Bella is spoiled … Her heart stuttered in her chest. Her father’s only rewards for all his generosity was disappointment and pain. She whirled around. ‘Yes, my father is generous to a fault, but you can’t tell me you haven’t been a recipient of his generosity either.’
He blinked and sort of frowned, as if he couldn’t work her out.
‘Because I know you have. I did some research on you, Dominic Wright.’
Just for a moment she could’ve sworn he stiffened, and then he grinned the grin that transformed him from The Iceman into a golden devil. He moved to the bench beside her, rested back against it. ‘And what did you come up with?’
He maintained a reasonable distance but the scent of cinnamon curled around her. She tore open the packet of coffee beans and their fragrance spilled into the kitchen, chasing the cinnamon away.
‘I found out that he hired you a good year before you finished your university degree. He took a risk on you then.’
‘A gamble that paid off.’
‘And that until this week you’ve been working in acquisitions and mergers.’ And from all accounts he’d been doing brilliantly there. She met his eyes with a challenge of her own. ‘But it has to be said, acquisitions and mergers isn’t exactly the kind of area that qualifies you as project manager for the Newcastle Maldini. My father is, again, obviously taking a gamble on you.’
He shifted, straightened. ‘Are you saying you doubt my capacity to discharge my duties adequately?’
Adequately? Pah! She ground the coffee beans, the noise providing her with an excuse to remain silent.
‘Bella?’ His voice was hard.
‘I’m saying that I’m not taking it for granted.’
She made the coffee. She took hers black and unsweetened. ‘Milk? Sugar?’ When he shook his head, she pushed one mug across to him. ‘And I want more than you merely discharging your duties adequately. The hotel’s success is important to me.’
‘Why?’
‘I already told you. It was a dream that was important to both my parents.’
His too-perceptive eyes narrowed. ‘I think there’s more to it than that.’
And just like that she felt as if she were in a job interview. Her nerves skittered and skated. If there was one thing she hated passionately it was job interviews. She had no intention of sharing her real reasons with Dominic, her personal reasons. Her make-her-father-proud reasons. She wanted distance. A lot of distance. They might be physically stuck in this apartment, but they didn’t have to share the same headspace.
It didn’t change the fact she had to give him something. He was her boss. ‘Why do you want to oversee this particular project?’ she countered. ‘Why the change?’
‘A new challenge.’
She recognised the evasion. She and Dominic might not have a lot in common, but they both liked to keep their cards close to their chests. And it had to be said, he did have a very nice chest. She shook that thought away. ‘Same here.’
His eyes mocked her. ‘Right.’
She waited for him to challenge her further, but he just shrugged. ‘Do you mean to leave that cat in its cage all day?’
She bit back a sigh and, mug in hand, made for the living room. Setting her mug on the coffee table, she knelt down beside the cage. ‘Hey there, Minky,’ she said in as conciliatory a voice as she could manage. ‘You are going to be a good kitty-cat, aren’t you?’
Soothing and calm, she instructed herself. She needed the cat to feel secure and unthreatened in its new environment. She hunkered down until she was almost eye level with the feline. ‘We’ll take it slow, okay? I’ll open the door and you can wander on out whenever you feel like it to check out your new home. And then I’ll get you some dinner, okay? How’s that sound?’
‘Like far more explanation than anything with four legs needs,’ Dominic drawled.
‘Ignore the nasty man,’ Bella told the cat in the same singsong, hopefully soothing voice.
Minky’s yellow-green eyes glared at her. The tail swished. Good Lord, who was she trying to kid? The cat hated her.
She glanced up at Dominic. ‘I’m not exactly sure how she’ll react. She’s, um, not happy.’
‘It’s a cat,’ he dismissed. ‘It weighs, what? Two kilos at the most? It can’t exactly do that much damage.’
She pointed at him. ‘Famous last words.’ He grinned and it lifted something inside her. With heart thumping, she opened the cage door.
Minky exploded from it like a demented jack-in-the-box on steroids to claw straight up Dominic’s denim-clad legs. He’d moved to stand in front of the cage, Bella presumed so he could get a better view of the show, but he didn’t deserve that.
‘Minky!’ She leapt up.
Yowling, the cat let go and then proceeded to bounce off the sofa, the coffee table and two dining room chairs before settling under the television cabinet, eyes glaring and tail twitching in compulsive malevolence.
Bella armed herself with a cushion before spinning back to Dominic. ‘Did she hurt you?’ Her eyes dropped to his thighs. Five tiny pinpricks of blood stained the denim of his jeans—three on the left thigh and two on the right. Her mouth dropped open. ‘Oh, I am sorry!’
It took all of Dominic’s willpower not to harden under Bella’s dark-eyed gaze. Damn schizoid cat! ‘It’s nothing,’ he dismissed.
Bella glanced at him, at the cat, at the sofa and finally at the rug. Clutching the cushion to her chest, she carefully lowered herself to the floor, one eye firmly on the demon cat from hell. Not that he blamed her. Still, it was obvious she’d rather take her chances on the floor with the cat than on the sofa with him.
A scowl built through him. Her insinuation that he’d slept with whoever had organised this apartment, her obvious suspicion that he attempted to seduce every woman that crossed his path, still stung. The glance she sent him, however, made him feel like the wolf of Red Riding Hood fame. He lowered his frame to the sofa, stretched out his legs and fought a frown. Did she think he meant to jump her the moment she let her guard down? He had more finesse, more style, than that.
Besides, he had no intention of trying to seduce her—regardless of how tantalising the idea might seem. This lady was one complication he didn’t need.
She surveyed him over the rim of her coffee cup. ‘We should set some house rules.’
He shifted back, alternately straightening and slouching, but the sofa refused