His eyes took their merry time meeting hers, taking a sensual detour to the shadow of her cleavage, which she had inadvertently exposed to him. She quickly straightened, but it was too late. She could see the gleam of male appraisal in the depths of his dark blue gaze as it met with hers. The temperature of her skin went up to blistering hot and a hollow feeling opened up in her stomach.
‘I’ll have a word with them and put them straight,’ he said. ‘And if I hear any further gossip I’ll categorically deny we have anything going on.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, pressing her lips together for a moment. ‘I would appreciate it.’
He leaned back in his chair with a squeak of vinyl. ‘Just for the record, Dr Cargill,’ he said. ‘Next time you come in here you’d better not close the door.’
‘Pardon?’
He nodded towards the door behind her which she had clicked shut on her entry. ‘You know how people’s minds work,’ he said. ‘A man and a woman in an office together behind a closed door…Who knows what they might get up to.’
Kitty’s cheeks exploded with colour. ‘That might be how other people’s minds work but it’s certainly not the way mine operates,’ she said.
A lazy smile lurked around the edges of his mouth. ‘Good for you,’ he said. ‘Nice to know there’s still some innocence in this big, bad old world of ours.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You think I’m naive and inexperienced, don’t you?’ she asked.
He pushed back his chair and sauntered over to the office door, standing with a hand on the doorknob without turning it. ‘I think, Dr Cargill,’ he said, ‘that you should get back to work before someone comes looking for you. We don’t want any more gossip circulating about us, do we?’
Kitty snatched in a quick unsteady breath. She could smell his clean citrus and wood smell. She could see the individual pinpricks of his cleanly shaven jaw. She could see the sensual contours of his sinfully tempting mouth. She could see the flare of those ink-black pupils in the dark blue sea of his eyes. She was barely aware of sending her tongue out to moisten her lips until she saw those sapphire-blue eyes drop to her mouth to track the movement.
Something tightened in the air.
It was an invisible energy, a force Kitty could feel passing over the entire surface of her skin, disrupting the nerves inside and out, making them super-aware and super-sensitive.
She became aware of the deep thudding of her heart: a boom, boom, boom sensation inside her ribcage that was almost audible.
His eyes moved from her mouth to mesh with hers in a heart-stopping little lockdown that sent her senses into a tailspin. ‘You know, there is an alternative to handling this situation we find ourselves in,’ he said, in a deep and husky tone that sent a shower of reaction down her spine.
‘Th-there is?’ she said in an equally raspy voice.
His eyes went to her mouth again, resting there an infinitesimal moment before meeting her eyes once more. ‘Instead of denying it we could say it’s true,’ he said. ‘Then everyone will stop speculating about us.’
Kitty blinked. ‘But…but it’s not true.’
One side of his mouth tilted. ‘I know, but only we would know that.’
She frowned. ‘So you’re saying we should pretend we’re having a fling just to stop people gossiping about us?’ she asked.
‘It could work,’ he said. ‘It’ll stop the “are they?” or “aren’t they?” comments.’
Kitty made a little scoffing sound. ‘But you’re not my type. I would never in a million years date someone like you.’
‘Same goes.’
She pursed her lips as she considered his comeback. Why wouldn’t he date someone like her? What was wrong with her?
Wasn’t she pretty enough?
Smart enough?
Too smart?
‘I can imagine I don’t quite fit the stereotype for your usual bedmate,’ she said. ‘A brain is not essential—only a pulse, right?’
He gave her one of his lazy smiles. ‘It has to be a strong, healthy pulse,’ he said. ‘Great stamina is required when sleeping with me.’
Kitty could have cooked a raw egg on both cheeks. ‘I am not sleeping with you, Dr Chandler,’ she said. ‘Not in pretence or in reality.’
He opened the door for her with exaggerated gallantry. ‘Then it’s best if we keep our distance, don’t you think?’
She put her chin up. ‘That’s exactly what I intend to do,’ she said, and stalked out.
* * *
Jake was about to leave his office for a meeting when his mobile rang. He glanced at the caller ID on the screen and muttered a swearword under his breath before he answered it. ‘You’d better have a good excuse for not showing up for Rosie’s birthday,’ he said to his younger brother.
‘When was it her birthday?’ Robbie asked.
Jake rolled his eyes. ‘Why haven’t you returned any of my calls or texts?’
‘I ran out of credit on my phone.’
‘What? Again?’ Jake asked. ‘I gave you heaps of credit only a fortnight ago.’
‘Yeah, well, I had to make a lot of calls,’ Robbie said in a surly tone.
‘What a pity one of them wasn’t to one of your sisters or to me,’ Jake muttered.
‘Get off my case, Jake, you’re not my father.’
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose to clear the red mist of anger that appeared before his eyes. ‘No, I’m damn well not,’ he said. ‘You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad Mum didn’t survive that car accident. It would’ve broken her heart to see you stuff your life up like this. What were you thinking, Robbie? This time two years ago you were halfway through your engineering degree. Now you’re living on the streets.’
‘I’m not living on the streets,’ Robbie said. ‘I’ve got mates I’m hanging with.’
‘You know what they say about lying down with stray dogs,’ Jake said. ‘Sooner or later you’re going to get fleas.’
‘You’re just pissed because I’m out having fun and you’re not,’ Robbie said.
‘You call getting hammered or stoned every night fun?’ Jake said, anger and frustration making his throat tight and his voice hoarse. ‘Where’s the fun in getting Hep C or AIDS from a dirty needle, huh? Tell me that. Tell me what’s fun about wrecking your life and everyone else’s in the process.’
‘I’m not using any more,’ Robbie said. ‘I’m clean, man.’
Jake was holding his phone so tightly he thought the screen was going to crack. How could he trust a word that Robbie said? Sometimes it felt as if someone had hijacked his little brother’s body. It was Robbie on the outside, but it wasn’t his kid brother on the inside. Where had that sunny faced, happy-go-lucky kid gone? Where was the boy he had coached through the turbulent years of adolescence in the absence of their dead-beat father, who hadn’t even stayed around long enough to see Robbie born? Where was the pimply teenager he had taught to drive? Where was the young man who’d used to drop in to his flat at least three times a week just to hang out after lectures? Who’d talked to him late into the night of his hopes and dreams and aspirations? Who had looked up to him not just as an older brother, but also as a mentor?