She was being contrary by implying Tremont money was the reason he could afford a fancy Pacific Heights address, but she couldn’t help herself.
Anything to divert the heat of his gaze from her. She felt as if she could go up in flames right here on the pavement.
“Let’s just say, the real estate market was doing well at the time,” he returned easily. “For Evkit Investments as well as Tremont REH.”
“I just assumed a penthouse would be more your speed,” she said in a more conciliatory tone. “You must be lost in all this space.”
An enigmatic smile played at his lips. “Hoping for evidence in my choice of real estate that I’m not the settling down type? Sorry to disappoint.”
“Actually,” she parried, “I thought you’d enjoy the view from up high in a penthouse, looking down at us lesser mortals.”
He chuckled, and then murmured, “I don’t think you have a clue what I’d enjoy, Evangeline.”
Eva realized they were no longer talking about real estate—or even the seriousness of his marriage proposal.
A vision of the two of them having sex on tangled sheets sprang into her mind.
Reflexively she shook her head to clear it.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his expression amused and too knowing.
She whirled away. “I need to go supervise in the kitchen since there’s not much time. I’m here to plan a party, remember?”
“Of course,” he murmured as she turned away. “Why else would you be here?”
His cryptic comment almost broke her stride, but she forced herself to keep going.
His question echoed in her head. Why else would she be here?
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