Quite the clam, wasn’t he? She gave up on the small talk and simply watched him drive. The powerful machine purred under his hands, responding to his slightest touch. Just as she had. She started to sweat again, clenched her muscles to stop the softening. She still wanted him, badly. But she wasn’t going to make the mistake of asking him again—she didn’t want to hear him say no. He pulled over outside Rosanna’s villa. She undid her belt and had her door open in a split second. The sooner she got away from him, the more likely she was to escape with the little dignity she had left. But her deeply ingrained politeness made her bend and glance back into the car—right at him. ‘Thanks for the ride.’
‘My pleasure.’ His hard gaze bored into her.
Utterly still, she took in the intensity in his face. Why so angry? Burning with confusion, with embarrassment as she suddenly thought of an alternative to the ‘ride’ they were talking about, she slammed the door.
Lorenzo swore. Forced himself to wait until she was inside the door of her home and then put his foot to the floor. What the hell was he doing hovering around her? She was determined not to be bothered, that their night truly was all over. She couldn’t have made that clearer. And wasn’t that what he wanted?
No. He’d wanted her to admit she was feeling as out of sorts as he was—as unfulfilled, as hungry.
He gripped the wheel tighter and knew he’d better head back to the warehouse pronto before he did something stupid. He could feel it surging within him, the energy seeking to burst out of his skin. He hadn’t felt it this bad in a long time—the anger and the desire to destroy. The darkness deep within him was awake. Maybe it was a result of the illness last week. His control had been weakened. But it was the thought of Sophy that threatened it the most.
He’d just stay up all night. He’d get it back under control.
ROSANNA didn’t return that night but sent a safe-status text in the morning. Sophy grumped her way through breakfast, telling herself she desperately needed to Get Over Lorenzo.
She stayed at home all Sunday but went to work her usual ten minutes early on Monday. Tried to keep her pulse at a vaguely normal rate as she climbed the stairs up to her little domain. Not awkward. Not awkward at all.
She heard the voices as she neared the top. Stopped on the threshold of her office door. The girl was very pretty. Already seated in Sophy’s chair. Kat, the receptionist, was showing her the damn computer system already.
‘Hello.’ Sophy smiled, ultra bright and polite. She was not going to get evil over this.
‘Hi, Sophy.’ Kat looked up and beamed. ‘This is Jemma, who’s here to help you out.’
Oh, right. Help her out. Like she needed helping out? Like she needed a pretty, petite thing to do the work for her? Oh, please. After she’d just spent the last week giving the place a complete overhaul? She didn’t need help now. No, it was more like now the hard stuff was done she wasn’t needed any more.
Now he’d slept with her he didn’t want her around at all.
It wouldn’t be awkward at all then, would it?
The jealousy kicked in, the resentment swirling around, the energy building in her until she had enough fuel inside to launch a rocket to the moon.
‘Are you okay showing her some stuff for a while longer, Kat?’ she barely managed to ask nicely.
Kat nodded.
‘Great.’ Yes, she wasn’t needed at all. She gripped her bag all the more tightly. ‘I’ve just got to see Lorenzo.’
Kat nodded. ‘He’s about. I saw him earlier.’
Oh, good. Sophy briskly walked the few metres along the corridor to his office—it was empty. She checked the other office—the other staff were back now, having done their bit for Vance. But Lorenzo wasn’t in with them either. She walked faster—she refused to let him avoid this one.
She went downstairs but he wasn’t out in the yard. She went into one of the darkened rooms where they stored the cases of wine—all on pallets ready to be shipped. He was bending down by one, checking the dispatch label by the looks of things. He straightened when he saw her. Watched as she walked towards him, the heels of her shoes rapidly clicking on the concrete floor.
‘You’ve got a temp in,’ she said briskly.
‘Yeah.’
Even though she knew already, she had to take a second to absorb the hit from the casual dismissal in his tone.
‘I thought you were all about keeping Cara happy and not getting some clueless temp in?’ Sophy cringed even as she bitched at him; she was quite sure Jemma wasn’t clueless, but it had been his point originally. ‘Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked here? I’ve fixed the whole mess.’
‘I know you have. A five-year-old could work the filing system you’ve put in place. It’s perfect for a temp now.’
She reeled. Was that supposed to be a compliment? To make her feel okay about it? ‘You mean it’s the perfect time to get rid of me.’
He walked towards her. ‘What are you so mad about? I thought there were other things you wanted to be doing anyway?’
That wasn’t the point. The point was his shabby treatment of her. ‘You just don’t want me to be here any more? You’re embarrassed. You’re the one who’s feeling awkward.’
‘That’s not why I got a temp in.’
‘Yeah, right. Can’t handle it, can you? Anything remotely personal going on in your precious little domain.’
‘What happened with us is not why she’s here.’
‘That’s rubbish, Lorenzo. At least be honest and admit it. You want me gone.’
He swore right back at her—only worse. ‘Quite the opposite. Come with me.’
Given he now had hold of her wrist in a clench that threatened to break the smallest bones in there, she didn’t have much choice.
‘Lorenzo!’
He didn’t listen. Didn’t stop. Stormed out of the store room and up the stairs, past the offices until he got to the empty room at the back.
He let her go and she was still moving so fast from being dragged along with him she half ran into the middle of the room. He strode back to the door and slammed it shut, whirled to face her, his arms flung out. ‘This is why.’
She stared around the big empty room. There was a large table in the middle, a few chairs around it. ‘I don’t follow.’
Clearly fuming, he enlightened her. ‘You can set up in here. Work the rest of the day, half the night if you need to. To get your jewellery done for the show. This can be your workroom.’
She stared at him. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘No.’ He walked further into the room, turned his back to her so she couldn’t read his expression. ‘I’m vaguely useful. If you need to use power tools or something, I can help.’
‘You mean you can plug them in?’
He grunted then—almost a laugh. ‘Yeah.’ He faced her, his hands on his hips, still looking like a warrior about to launch an offensive any minute. ‘I just thought you could work here in the afternoons. You’d be around if the temp needed help but you’d have the time to work on your own stuff. You can stay later. You don’t have to pack it up at the end of the day, just spread out and get it done.’
Calm descended over her, her earlier anger soothed by a new suspicion.