‘It’s not a house, it’s a business hub,’ he said. ‘And you’ll have an entire wing to yourself and a commute to work of approximately fifty metres. None of my other PAs ever complained of it.’
‘None of them are still working for you either. What if I want to get away from you and the work? What if I want to entertain? What if you want to entertain?’
‘Will you have time to entertain?’ he countered.
‘Who knows?’ She stood and stretched, giving him a nose to navel view of an impossibly tiny waist and firmly rounded buttocks. ‘I might.’
Not if he had anything to do with it. Which—as fortune would have it—he did.
It occurred to him, not for the first time during these past few days, that Sienna might just have a point. That sharing adjoining quarters with her these next few weeks was going to prove far more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. He and Sienna hadn’t seen much of one another these past few years. Different paths, different lifestyles, that was what he’d told his mother and anyone else who’d asked. Childhood friends often drifted apart, end of story, and if there was another reason he’d kept his distance lately, well, that was for him to know and no one else. When it came to Sienna, Lex’s body and brain were not in alignment. His brain wanted his role in Sienna’s life to be much the same as it always had been. Protector, mentor, occasional antagonist.
His body just wanted her naked beneath him. Hotly responsive. Possibly begging…
‘Lex.’
Right voice, wrong tone altogether. Where was the breathless pleading? The dulcet whimpers of a woman with nothing but fulfilment on her mind?
‘Alex!’
Whoa! He looked up with a start to find Sienna staring down at him in exasperation as she dangled some sort of report in front of his nose—a prospectus for a Shanghai construction company about to list on the New York stock exchange, to be exact. He’d mentioned the company in passing a couple of days ago but hadn’t expected her to follow up on it. ‘For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.’
‘Think of it as the toy truck every mother in the known universe keeps in her handbag for when she’s out and about and wants her fractious toddler to behave.’ She fixed him with the queen of all challenging smiles, then picked up her book and settled back into her seat. ‘Enjoy.’
‘No, really. You shouldn’t have. They’re heavily invested in the US sub-prime housing market. They’re going down.’
‘Then see what you can pick up in the fire sale. Isn’t that what you do?’
She had a point. She did have a point. But he didn’t feel like reading any more. He needed to diffuse some of the sexual awareness currently tying him in knots, and if seduction wasn’t an option—and it wasn’t—then an argument would have to suffice. All he had to do was pick a reason, any reason. Maybe he should voice those mostly brotherly instincts and tell her that entertaining another man while living under his roof was out of the question. ‘About us living together…’
‘You mean about us occasionally meeting each other outside of working hours in common entertainment areas?’ Sienna arched a delicate eyebrow and smiled a hoyden’s smile. ‘And what we should do if the other person has someone else with them?’
Lex smiled back, every sense sharpening beneath his lazy façade. She did want to fight. It would be churlish of him not to oblige. ‘If you happen upon me while I’m entertaining, I will of course introduce you to my companion and quite possibly ask you to join us, at which point you will in all likelihood refuse and give me one of those looks—yes, that’s the one—and take yourself off elsewhere. Does that sound reasonable?’
‘Does that scenario work both ways?’
‘Well…no.’ He loved the way her eyes flashed fire and her chin came up. ‘Should you wish to entertain, I’ll require three days’ notice and a thorough background check on the individual, or individuals, concerned. How does that sound?’
‘Restrictive.’
Perfect. ‘One can never be too careful. Imagine how you’d hate yourself if you were played for a fool by a reporter after an inside story on me. You’d be crushed. And I just know that somehow—in some nebulous parallel universe accessible only to the female psyche—it would be all my fault.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Make that five days notice. I hate being the one at fault.’
‘You think I can’t recognise a reporter when I see one?’ she said with the quirk of an eyebrow. ‘With my family background?’
‘You’re right,’ he said, conceding yet another strategic point. Not a problem to his way of thinking given that the entire aim of this conversation was not necessarily to win but to fight. Sienna’s mother had been many years older and several hundred million dollars wealthier than her artist husband. The press had feasted on the disparity for years, but the banquet had really started with Sienna’s mother’s alleged suicide. The squandered millions. The faithless husband. The forged will and the missing paintings. Two months after Sienna’s mother died, her father had played chicken with a freight train and lost, and the gutter press had started up again. Eventually, thankfully, they’d moved on to newer, juicier stories but Sienna’s loathing for the press and her reluctance to step anywhere near the limelight remained. ‘Bad example. A reporter wouldn’t last five minutes with you. But what say a thief tried to woo you in order to gain access to the complex? Know anything about thieves?’
A fleeting smile crossed the generous curve of her lips. ‘People call you a thief, Lex. I know a lot about you.’
He knew what people called him. He’d heard it all before and was prepared to let the insult pass. Actually, no, he wasn’t. This time the insult rankled. Time to ramp this argument up a notch. ‘I pay for what I take.’
‘You pay a pittance for what you take—then you break it down, repackage it, and make a fortune,’ she said with brutal accuracy. ‘Doesn’t matter if it’s legal, Lex. To some people’s way of thinking, you’re still a thief.’
‘The technical term is corporate raider.’
‘Raider, brigand, pirate…thief.’ Her eyes challenged him to explain the difference. Presuming there was a difference.
‘Those companies have been ruined by mismanagement, overextension, or plain old neglect long before I ever arrive on the scene,’ he argued. ‘I’m not responsible for that.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re right, you’re not.’ Sienna opened her mouth as if to say more, but closed it again without uttering a word. She opted instead for opening her book and trying to ignore him, but he wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easily. He reached over, took the book from her hands and shoved it down the side of her seat.
‘Say it,’ he said curtly. ‘Whatever you were about to say, say it.’
Sienna looked mutinous, not to mention defensive. Lex knew from experience that following orders—his or anyone else’s—was not her strong suit. But then she spoke.
‘You could save those companies, Lex. Turn them around rather than tear them to pieces.’
‘I knew that was where you were heading with this. I knew it!’ He’d wanted an argument, he reminded himself bleakly. Just not this one. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘I realise that. But you could save them—’
‘You give me far too much credit.’
‘—if you wanted to,’ she finished. ‘You just don’t want to.’
‘You’re