The Passion Price by Miranda Lee

disintegrating entirely.
    Her eyes ran over him, and she thought how utterly gorgeous he was looking in his trendy city clothes. No jeans for him this time. But not a suit, either. His trousers were a bone colour, not dissimilar to the cream in her dress. Very expensive by the look of their cut, and the lack of creases. His shirt was made in black silk, worn open-necked, with its long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Casual, yet sophisticated and suave, the epitome of the man about town, such a far cry from the Jake whom she’d ogled just as shamelessly sixteen years ago.
    Only his eyes were the same. Still that same hard, icy blue, and still with the same intent. To get her into bed.
    â€˜That’s a relief,’ he said, and his hand settled right back where it had been.
    A shiver ran down Angelina’s spine. How would it feel if she had no clothes on at all? If she was lying with him, naked, in a bed, and he was sliding his hand down her back whilst the other was…?
    She gulped the great lump which had formed in her throat and tried to find reasons for why his making love to her should never be allowed to happen. But none came to mind at that moment.
    â€˜Did that guy say or do anything really offensive?’ Jake asked as he guided her out onto the wharf and into the sunshine. ‘Do you want to me go back and sort him out?’
    Angelina drew in some blessedly fresh air and tried to get herself back on to an even keel. ‘Lord, no. No, that’s not necessary. Wayne’s harmless, really. Just too full of himself. And it’s not as though I have to see him again.’ Too late, she realised she’d made another blunder.
    Jake pounced on it immediately. ‘You don’t have to go back to the booth today?’
    â€˜Not if I don’t want to.’
    â€˜And do you want to?’
    â€˜Hardly.’ Silly to say that she did. ‘I thought I might do some shopping after our lunch,’ she added, hoping to retrieve lost ground.
    â€˜Shopping for what?’
    â€˜Clothes.’
    His gaze travelled slowly up and down her body. ‘More clothes to drive men wild with lust?’
    She flushed. ‘That’s not my intent when I buy a dress.’
    â€˜It might not be your intent,’ he said drily. ‘But the result’s the same. I have to confess I do understand where poor Wayne was coming from. You’d tempt a saint, looking as you do today. And not many men are saints. But I doubt you’ll have much time for shopping after our luncheon cruise. The one I’ve booked takes three hours. Most shops close at four on a Saturday. Besides, I was hoping you’d agree to come back to my place for a while. I live over in that direction there on MacMahon’s Point,’ he said, pointing straight across the expanse of sparkling blue water at the distant skyline of high-rise, harbour-hugging apartment blocks. ‘I’ve already organised for the boat’s captain to put in at the wharf there and let us off afterwards.’
    â€˜That was presumptuous of you, Jake,’ came her surprisingly cool-sounding remark. Inside, she felt far from cool.
    He shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind. I thought you might like to see where I live. I’m happy to drive you back to the hotel later in the afternoon. If you want to change for dinner, that is. But you look perfectly fine to go out with me exactly as you are.’
    She laughed. ‘You have today all planned out, don’t you?’
    â€˜Being a lawyer has taught me that it’s always wise to have a plan.’
    â€˜And do things always go according to your plans?’
    â€˜On the whole. But there are exceptions, of whichI suspect you might be one,’ he finished with a rueful sigh.
    She smiled, gratified that he thought she had more will-power and character than she actually possessed at that moment.
    â€˜You said one day at a time,’ he reminded her.