She chuckled, and the sound skittered across his nape, raising hairs in its wake. It was warm and vibrant, and he derived so much pleasure from it that he wanted her to laugh again.
“Chrysander has no say in what I wear.”
“He is—was your guardian,” Theron said. “As I am now.”
“Not legally,” she countered. “You’re doing a favor for my father, and you’re the executor of his estate as it pertains to me until I marry, but you’re hardly my guardian. I’ve managed quite well on my own with minimal interference from Chrysander.”
Theron leaned back against his desk as he studied the young woman standing so confidently in front of him. “Marry? The terms of your father’s will is that you gain control of your inheritance when you turn twenty-five.”
“Or I marry,” she gently corrected. “I plan to be married before then.”
Alarm took hold of Theron as he contemplated all sorts of nasty scenarios.
“Who is he?” he demanded. “I’ll want to have him fully investigated. You can’t be too careful in your position. Your inheritance will draw a host of unwanted suitors who only want you for your money.”
Another smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. “It’s nice to see you again, too, Theron. My trip was fine. The suite is lovely. It’s been awhile since I last saw you, but I’d recognize you anywhere.”
Her reproach irritated him because she was exactly right. He was being rude. He hadn’t even properly greeted her.
“My apologies, Isabella,” he said as he moved forward. He grasped her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her on either cheek. “I’m glad to hear your trip was satisfactory and that the suite is to your liking. May I get you something to drink while we discuss your travel arrangements?”
She smiled and shook her head, and then moved past him toward the window. Her hips swayed, and her bottom, cupped by the too-tight denim bobbed enticingly. He sent his gaze upward so that he wasn’t ogling her inappropriately.
It was then that a flash of color at her waist stopped him. He blinked and looked again, certain he had to be mistaken. As she stopped at the window, the hem of her shirt moved so that a tiny portion of what looked to be a tattoo peeked from between her jeans and her shirt.
His gaze was riveted as he strained to see what the design was. Then he scowled. A tattoo? Obviously Chrysander had failed miserably in his role as her guardian. What the hell kind of trouble had she gotten herself into? Tattoos? Talk of marriage?
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt the beginnings of a headache.
“You have a wonderful view,” she said as she turned from the window to look at him.
He cleared his throat and sent his gaze to her face. Anywhere but at the breasts hugged tight by the thin T-shirt. Theos, but the woman was a walking time bomb.
“Have you already made all the arrangements for your trip to Europe or would you prefer for me to see to them?” he asked politely.
She shoved her fingers into her jeans pockets, a feat he wasn’t certain how she managed, and leaned against the window.
“I’m not going to Europe.”
He blinked. “Pardon?”
She smiled again, the dimples deepening. “I’ve decided not to travel to Europe for the summer.”
He put a hand to his forehead and massaged the tension. Damn Chrysander for getting a life and saddling him with Isabella Caplan.
“Does this have anything to do with your sudden desire for marriage?” he asked tiredly. “You still haven’t answered my question about the intended groom.”
“That’s because there isn’t one yet,” she said mischievously. “I never said that I had a man lined out yet, just that I intended to be married before I turned twenty-five. As that gives me three more years, there certainly isn’t a need to start ordering background checks.”
“Then why aren’t you going to Europe? It was your plan at least a week ago according to the letter you sent to Chrysander.”
“I sent Chrysander no such thing,” she protested lightly. “The man Chrysander hired to oversee my education and my living arrangements informed Chrysander of my trip to Europe. I simply changed my mind.”
His hand slipped to the back of his neck as a full-blown migraine threatened to bloom.
“So what do you intend to do then?” He was almost afraid to hear the answer.
She smiled broadly, her entire face lighting up. “I’m getting an apartment here in the city.”
Theron choked. Then he closed his eyes as he felt the cinch draw tighter around his neck. If she stayed here, then he would be stuck overseeing her affairs, checking up on her constantly.
Suddenly her impending marriage didn’t strike such a chord of irritation. She was twenty-two. True, it was young to marry these days, but certainly not outside the realm of possibility. Perhaps the best thing he could do for her was to introduce her to a man well equipped to provide security and stability for her.
The thought was already turning in his head, gaining momentum, when she spoke again.
“I’m sorry?” he said when he realized he had no idea what she’d said to him.
“Oh, I only said now that we’ve gotten my arrangements out of the way, I need to be going. I have an apartment to find.”
Alarm bells rang at the idea of Isabella traipsing around a city she wasn’t intimately familiar with, alone and vulnerable. Hell, she could wind up in an entirely unsuitable neighborhood. And then there was the matter of her security. Now that she was going to be here and not in Europe, he’d have to scramble to get a team in place. The last thing he needed was for her to be abducted as Marley had been.
“I don’t think this is something you should do alone,” he said firmly.
Her expression brightened. “That’s so sweet of you to offer to go apartment hunting with me. I admit, I wasn’t looking forward to it on my own, and your knowledge of the city is so much better than mine.”
He opened his mouth to refute the idea that he’d volunteered anything, but the genuine appreciation on her face made him snap his lips shut. He let out a sigh, knowing he was well and truly screwed.
“Of course I’ll accompany you. I won’t have you staying just anywhere. I’ll have my secretary come up with a few suitable places for you to view and then we’ll go. Perhaps tomorrow morning? You’re welcome to stay in the suite for as long as you need it.”
She frowned. “But I hate to put you out.”
He shook his head. “It’s no bother. Chrysander still has a penthouse here that I can use. I need to be looking for a place as well now that I’ve permanently relocated here.”
Her eyes sparked briefly, but then her expression faded to one of neutrality.
“In that case, I appreciate the offer, and I’d love to go apartment hunting with you tomorrow. Shall we do lunch as well?” she asked innocently.
“Of course I’ll feed you,” he said with a grunt. Why did he feel as though he’d been run over by a steamroller? The idea that this mere slip of a girl had run so roughshod over him left him irritated and feeling like he’d been manipulated, but there was nothing but genuine appreciation and relief in her expression.
She hurried over and threw her arms around him. She landed against his chest, and he had to brace himself to keep from stumbling back.
“Thank you,” she said against his ear as she squeezed him for all she was worth.
He allowed