‘But you asked for me.’ Not her boss or the other more experienced employees.
‘Because you’re the best guide. Inventive, best when you’re improvising rather than sticking to a script someone else has written. So I want you to write the script. You’re good at creating the fun scenarios.’
The fun scenarios? ‘And that’s all you want from me?’ Now she was blushing more because she’d made a massive fool of herself in assuming...
‘Oh, no,’ he said as calmly as ever. ‘I also want to have wild animal sex with you for hours until neither of us can move. But perhaps it isn’t very politically correct of me to admit that.’ A flash of that wide, wicked smile.
She choked. ‘Not really.’
‘Better to be honest though, isn’t it?’ Complete charm now.
‘Um.’ Speechless, she just stared at him. It was kind of flattering to think that the beneficiary of her one attempt at seduction had enjoyed it so much he wanted another. Except he’d probably be disappointed in any replay—why mess with the memory? And more importantly, she had her job to think of. ‘You don’t think mixing business with...this...is a bad idea?’
‘I’m capable of not letting my personal life interfere with my professional.’ He lifted his shoulders and let them drop easily. ‘Are you?’
‘Oh, you’re just Mr Perfect, aren’t you?’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ he muttered. ‘Because I can definitely be perfect for you. I know exactly how I’m going to make you come.’
She moved, because a mere glance at him had her heating in places no one ought to know about. ‘Why are you staring at me like that?’ she croaked.
‘I’m concerned,’ he answered expressionlessly. ‘You’re feeling hot? You’ve gone very red.’ He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers—a light caress that didn’t just tease, it singed through her skin to her most elemental cell.
She lifted her chin and stepped back out of reach. ‘Actually, I am feeling hot,’ she answered honestly. ‘You should probably keep your distance. One of the passengers on last week’s tour came down with the flu. Trust me, if I’m getting that fever, you don’t want it.’
‘No.’ His smile came, slow and wicked. ‘I want it no matter what.’
‘Ruben—’
‘Don’t worry.’ He held up both hands. ‘I shan’t touch until you ask me to. And if you insist we’ll never discuss it again. I just thought I’d let you know my plans for the weekend. You can let me know if yours dovetail with mine.’
‘I’m here for the tour company, for my career and for no other reason.’ Absolutely.
‘Sure.’
Oh, the guy was too confident—and pretty much had every reason to be. ‘I’m not messing around with you again,’ she asserted vehemently.
‘Sure.’ Too casually, he turned away from her. ‘So let’s get started.’
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLIE followed Ruben inside—feeling like a pepper slow-burning over a bare flame. But while he might be all kinds of gorgeous, she was no longer Ms People-Pleaser Total Pushover. She’d drawn her line and she was holding it. She was here to work—and work was all that was important to her at the moment.
‘You know the lodge wasn’t used in the movies at all,’ he said, leading her through the building, her overnight bag slung over his shoulder. ‘So it won’t be available for the tour. We’re really just talking about those big hills and the remnants of the set buildings.’
‘Okay, but they’re going to need refreshments at some point. It’s quite a hike to get here.’ She was starving. The biscuit and coffee snack on the plane hadn’t done much to fill her tummy’s gap.
He nodded. ‘There’s a guest house further down the road. We can do morning tea or something. I have a cook.’
Of course he did.
‘Actually, that cook has left something for us to eat tonight if you’re hungry,’ he said—still with that too-casual attitude.
She wished she had the reserves to say no but she knew it was in her best interests to get her blood sugar levels balanced or she’d be in danger of flying off yet another handle and doing something completely crazy. And merely watching his rear view fell into crazy category. Two minutes of following him had rendered her light-headed. The temptation to do him was lunatic.
‘I’d love something to eat, thanks.’ She’d think food, food, and nothing but food.
He turned, surprised at her easy acquiescence. ‘Sooner rather than later?’
‘Definitely.’ She nodded enthusiastically. ‘And I’d love a drink.’
He laughed, which really didn’t help her battle to resist her attraction to him. ‘No problem.’ He led her to the massive, all-professional-equipped kitchen. ‘There’s a fantastic cellar here. Did you want red, white or bubbly?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Water straight from the tap will do me just fine, thanks.’
‘You don’t want any wine?’ he asked in mock surprise. ‘No French champagne tonight?’
‘I’m not so stupid I’d make that mistake a second time,’ she answered with spirit.
‘You blame the bubbles?’ He smiled.
She took the glass of chilled water he offered. ‘No, but I don’t think it helped. I’m grown-up enough to accept most of the madness was my own fault.’
He watched her from the other side of the granite-topped bench. ‘What about the lodge—does the décor inspire you as much as the chateau’s did?’
Ruefully she sipped, flushing her boiling system with the almost frozen water, and refused to answer. Instead she turned away from the gorgeously deluxe interior to look out of the window at the amazing skyline. ‘How many of these places do you own?’ She needed their addresses so she could avoid them at all costs. Just her luck that when she finally got to go somewhere gorgeous, her one most wicked encounter would have to be waiting.
‘Last count it was five. I’m working on the sixth and seventh at the moment.’
‘That’s quite a stable.’ Especially given each came with a multimillion-dollar price tag.
‘They’re not all as big as this one. But they keep me busy.’
She glanced back at him as he answered. Yes, there was the slightest hint of tiredness about his eyes. On the bench was the laptop, the tablet, the smart phones—all the paraphernalia of the businessman who worked 24/7.
‘But the chateau was the first?’ She pressed for more information. ‘And it was your father who built it?’ And who’d had the folly of the marriage?
‘It had been his dream, but he got sick before he could finish it,’ Ruben answered, no flicker of emotion crossing his face.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘Cancer.’ He elaborated a fraction. ‘He was older. It was only to be expected, I guess.’
‘So you took it over?’ She skimmed over his father’s age reference for now. She was more interested in how on earth Ruben had managed to achieve all he had.
He nodded.
‘How old were you?’
‘Fourteen when he died, seventeen when I took on the chateau.’
‘Seventeen?’
The