‘Thanks. I won’t take up too much of your time.’ Ivy plonked herself down on the chair, her dangling silver costume-earrings swaying against her heart-shaped face. He caught a whiff of her perfume—white lilacs and lily-of-the-valley—which danced around his nostrils in an intoxicating vapor. Her small, neat hands were clasped around a rectangular bag only big enough to carry a mobile phone and the bare essentials. She ran the tip of her tongue across her cherry-red lips and then gave him a dimpled smile that almost knocked him off his feet. Small white teeth with an adorable overbite and those luscious lips were a bewitching combination that sent his pulse up another notch. ‘It’s good to see you, Louis. Sorry I had to take a rain check last time.’
Stop staring at her mouth. And don’t even think about looking at her breasts.
‘That’s okay. I had a lot on that week anyway.’ He cleared his throat and sat down, resting his forearms on the desk. ‘So, what can I help you with?’ He used his let’s-get-down-to-business tone, but he was aware of a strange energy in the air—a subtle tightening of the atmosphere that made the black hairs on his arms tingle at the roots.
She rolled her lips together, her gaze lowering to the Windsor knot of his tie as if she found it the most fascinating thing in the world. ‘Erm... Well, it’s kind of difficult to explain...’ Her cheeks went two shades darker and her fingers picked at the stitching on her bag as if she was determined to dismantle it then and there. He automatically checked her left hand for rings. Nothing.
He let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He lived in silent dread of her getting involved with the wrong man. It would be just his luck to have her fall for some totally unsuitable guy on his watch. Her brother had told him she’d been dreaming about getting married since she’d been given her first doll. He’d also heard she’d been unlucky in the dating game, no doubt because she was way too generous and trusting and not at all street-smart.
Louis leaned back in his chair and reached up to loosen the knot of his tie. ‘Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?’
Ivy glanced at him, her small white teeth snagging her bottom lip. ‘Do you have any brandy?’
He frowned. ‘Since when do you drink brandy? I thought you only drank white wine or champagne.’
Her lips twitched in a self-deprecating smile, her cute dimples appearing. ‘This is kind of a brandy situation.’
‘Now you’ve got me intrigued.’ Louis rose from his chair, walked over to his drinks cabinet and poured a small measure of brandy into a tumbler. He came over to where she was sitting and handed the brandy to her. Her fingers brushed his in the exchange and a current of electricity shot from her fingers to his and straight to his groin with lightning-bolt speed. What was going on with him today? He was acting like a hormone-mad teenager. Maybe his sex sabbatical wasn’t such a great idea. It was messing with his head, messing with his morals, messing with his boundaries.
Louis perched on the corner of his desk in front of her chair rather than go back behind his desk. He told himself it would make her feel more at ease, less intimidated without the barrier of his huge desk between them, but deep down he knew it had more to do with wanting to be close enough to study every nuance of her face. He watched her lips move against the rim of the crystal tumbler, imagined them closing around him and a wave of heat swept through his body.
Yep, he really needed to break his sex drought. Getting the hots for his best friend’s sister would be crossing a line he had sworn he would never cross. Ronan had issued him with the task of keeping an eye on her. Nothing else. Eyes on. Hands off. What else could there be between them? He wasn’t her type in any shape or form. Ivy was the sweet, homespun type who couldn’t walk past a jewellery-shop window without gazing at diamond engagement rings and wedding rings. The type of woman who tried on wedding dresses in her lunch hour. The type of woman who drooled over prams and puppies and dreamed of promises of forever love. He had no faith in that kind of love. How could he when he had watched his parents’ forever love turn into forever fighting over the years?
Ivy took three eye-watering sips, coughed twice and then leaned forward to put the glass on Louis’ desk with a grimace. ‘Gosh, how do people drink this stuff? I’m not sure I can finish it.’
‘Probably a good thing.’
She hunted up her sleeve for a tissue and, taking one out, mopped at her eyes, giving him a sheepish look from beneath eyelashes as long and spiky as spiders’ legs. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting you when you’re so busy. Is that a new secretary? She seems awfully nice.’
It was typical of Ivy to see the best in everybody. It was an endearing quality but not one he possessed. Maybe he was more like his father than he realised. Shoot me now. ‘Yes, she’s only been here a couple of months. My usual secretary, Natalie, is on maternity leave.’
Ivy leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner and continued in a stage whisper. ‘I think she’s a little bit in love with you.’
Louis coughed out a laugh and pushed himself off the desk with his hands. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to sit so close to her. Her perfume was doing strange things to his senses—not to mention the glimpse he got of her delightful cleavage when she leaned forward. He moved back around behind his desk, sat on the chair and crossed one ankle over his bent knee in a casual pose he was far from feeling.
‘I never mix business with pleasure, and dating staff is a recipe for disaster.’ Dating anyone for longer than twenty-four hours these days was a disaster. He’d once been fine with a week or two with someone, even a month, but that was before his most recent lover, who’d had trouble accepting the end of their three-week fling. Being stalked for weeks on end by a woman who’d fancied herself madly in love with him had been no fun. His new rule was one night and one night only. It gave no time for feelings to develop on either side.
Ivy rolled her lips together, her eyes briefly dipping to his mouth. ‘Are you...seeing anyone at the moment?’ Her voice had a tentative, breathless quality to it and the pink in her cheeks darkened.
Louis swivelled his chair in slow sideways movements, his gaze holding hers. ‘Not at the moment. Why?’
She gave a one-shoulder shrug, her eyes skittering away from his. ‘Just asking...’
He lowered his crossed ankle to the floor and leaned his arms on the desk again. ‘Ivy.’ He used his parent-to-child tone, because right then he was having way too much trouble seeing her as his mate’s sister. He was seeing her naked in his bed, those gorgeous breasts in his hands, his mouth on hers, his...
Stop. Do not go any further. Just stop.
Ivy slow-blinked like a little owl. ‘Can I ask you something?’
Louis sat back again and rubbed a hand over his late-in-the-day stubble. ‘Yeah, sure. Go for it.’