chance to reply, an action for which Claire was quite grateful, considering she was speechless. Julian picked up where he had left off in his explanations as if the incident had never taken place. Claire followed his cue, switching her recorder back on, but she ignored his warning, carrying her act so far that in the next few minutes she called him Mr. West.
She felt like biting her tongue as soon as it was out, Julian's look telling her she had gone too far. She swallowed as he immediately dismissed the model, escorting the young woman to the studio door. Allowing her to make her own way across the hall to the storage and dressing room on the other side, he closed and quite deliberately locked the door after her.
To her dismay, Claire found it impossible to stand her ground as he advanced, purposefully, towards her. He made no move to stop her as she backed away from him, but he moved steadily closer until they were only inches apart, Claire's retreat cut off by the drafting table pressed against her back. His hand reached up and she couldn't stop the whispered exclamation which passed from her lips.
"Julian, you can't!"
Instead of touching her, he reached behind her and flicked off the fluorescent light, his voice holding the impersonal tone she had struggled to maintain throughout the past few hours.
"Can't what? Take you for an early lunch. Why not? We can avoid the rush that way."
Claire tried unsuccessfully not to glare at him, furious that she had been so ably fooled. Julian rubbed it in mercilessly by asking her.
"What else did you think I had in mind?"
She tossed her head and smoothed her skirt. "Nothing, of course."
His smile was sardonic as he moved to the side, extending his hand in a gesture that indicated she should precede him. "Of course. Shall we go, Ms. Fitzpatrick?"
Claire nodded curtly, before walking quickly across the room to collect her purse; trying not to flounce, fully conscious of him only a few steps behind her. She reached the door the model had left through, yanking at it, cursing herself for forgetting it was locked when it wouldn't budge. She heard Julian stifle a laugh behind her before she clicked the lock open and exited without so much as a backward glance.
The door passed only inches from his face before it slammed in front of him separating him from Claire. She was surprised when he didn't follow her out, hearing instead the click of the lock. When he didn't appear in the next few minutes, she began to wonder if she had angered him. She hadn't even looked to see if he was close to the door or not; she supposed she could have hurt him.
Her guilt disappeared when he came out of the reception office and it was brought home to her how easily he had duped her back in the studio. If he really intended carrying out his threat he would have locked the door leading to the office as well. Silently fuming, she stabbed at the elevator button as he joined her. Lounging with one shoulder against the wall, he eyed her, quietly, while they waited for the elevator. Claire stabbed at it again, when it didn't arrive at once, refusing to meet his gaze.
"You know your trouble, Claire, you can't take your own medicine." His voice was still amused holding no reproach.
She looked at him quickly. “What do you mean?"
"If you had come here today determined to flirt, you would have expected me to play along, but because I'm the one who initiated it, you're annoyed."
Claire refused to accept his assessment of the situation. "That's not why. It's because I'm here to work, not play. Besides, why should you bother to flirt with me when you're pretty, little secretary is so good at it?"
The comment slipped out before Claire could stop it and she was grateful the elevator arrived at that moment, so she could step in to avoid his deep, knowing amusement. He followed her in, leaning against one wall, pulling her towards him, telling her.
"Honey,
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