2

Did he have to be heading to the same floor?

Olivia had had enough of arrogant assholes in her life and now she was stuck in a lift with a self-professed one. She couldn’t deny he’d amused her with his honesty and self-deprecating introduction though.

But he was trouble. She didn't have to be told. She just knew it. 

He wasn’t like Jack. He wasn’t smooth and perfect, clean-shaven and pristine. No, this man was all about the stubble and the bedhead hair. Like a sun-kissed surfer plucked from the ocean, jazzed up and dumped in the city. The jeans and sweatshirt hugging his imposing frame looked laid-back but they screamed designer from top to toe. And the way he had her pulse tripping over itself, he was just as dangerous. On every level.

“Now that you know so much about me,” he suddenly said, his voice thick and exciting her far more than was fair, “how about you let me take you for a drink?”

Olivia almost swallowed her tongue, the portfolio digging into her side as she turned rigid. “No, thank you. I’m busy.” she replied. 

“Not right this second,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief and amusement and holding her own. “But at a mutually agreeable time, of course?”

Of course. She mentally rolled her eyes. Would he just get the hint?

Her resolve was good, but she wasn’t immune. She could feel the temptation well enough and the sooner she got free of it, the better. She was in a relationship for God's sake and she sure as hell wasn't a cheater. She dragged her eyes away, forcing them on the intricate pattern twisting through the gold lift door ahead. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Care to tell me why?”

Because I’m not a fool, Olivia thought, but aloud, she said, “I know you.”

The lift announced the arrival of their floor and he spoke over it. “You do?”

“Obviously not you exactly,” she said, relief sweeping through her as the lift doors opened and she stepped out.

Purposeful, she turned left towards Isabella's and hoped he would take the hint or a different direction at least. He didn’t.

“Obviously,” he reaffirmed, falling into step behind her. “I’d definitely remember if I’d met you before.”

Her tummy gave an annoying flutter and she squashed it. She was going to have to be more specific. Brutal even… “What I mean is, I know your type.”

“My type?”

“Hell, yeah, great in the sack, perfect bedroom material…” she sent him a scathing look “…but beyond that…well, we don’t go there, do we?”

His step faltered. “Wow, hung, drawn and quartered.”

 She could hear his surprise, feel his unease, and victory surged warm in her veins. Her harsh assessment had hit its mark, hopefully enough to send him running. And if that didn’t, the hint of her being the relationship kind should do it.

“You have quite the opinion of men.” He added. 

She gave a derisive laugh and turned a bend, the sanctity of Isabella's hotel room now only a few strides away.

“So, you’re either an anti-male lesbian—” it was her turn to falter mid-step “—or you’ve been burned before. Which is it to be?”

A lesbian… She laughed with reignited vigour. It wasn’t the first time she’d been mistaken as such. She found it quite flattering actually, but she wasn't going to tell him that. 

“Typical arrogant male—just because I’m not interested in you per se, I have to be a lesbian.” She’d arrived at Isabella's door and to emphasise her point, she faced it and rapped against it. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

He wasn’t moving away. If anything, he was settling in right alongside her—what the fuck? She didn’t have time to ask what he was playing at; the door swung open to reveal her rather disgruntled-looking friend and client. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Izzy.” Olivia said. 

Izzy frowned, “You should be,” she said, shrugging a tan leather jacket over a white T and looking from Olivia to her unwanted companion. “The pair of you.”

 Pair of us?

Olivia looked at him and he gave her a bemused shrug. “Seems you can’t get away from me that easily.”

“Oh, good God, Derek, don’t tell me you’ve hit on my estate agent and friend already?” Isabella's eyes flashed furiously, and Olivia observed that their colour was strikingly similar to his.

“I wouldn’t call it hitting on, exactly,” he said, with another one of those annoyingly casual shrugs. “We were actually just discussing sexual tendencies.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Isabella looked at Olivia, cheeks flushing, eyes bright. “Seems I owe you an apology,”

“You do?” Olivia's voice sounded faint, her brain rapidly piecing the situation together.

“This animal,” Isabella said, gesturing to him in mock disdain, “Is my brother. My older brother, to be exact. But seriously, Derek, what the hell?”

“Brother?” Olivia repeated, her eyes sweeping to the man himself, who she now knew as Derek, the realisation that she wasn’t going to evade him any time soon setting off a troubling dance in her chest.

She recalled that Isabella had told her weeks ago that her brother was moving back into town after years of being away, but she hadn't mentioned that he was back already or that he would even be here with them today…. Or that he was so damn attractive and charming. 

“In my defence,” he said, a curious frown creasing his brow, “She brought it out in me.”

“That’s your excuse?” Isabella said incredulously, delivering a playful shove that barely moved him, his eyes remaining fixed on Olivia's every bit as curious and heated and very, very interested. “If I didn’t value your opinion so much, I’d tell you to just go and leave us to it.”

“Seems that makes two of you today,” he said, his penetrating gaze reaching inside Olivia's mind and triggering a replay of all that she had said with embarrassing clarity. “It’s a bloody good job my ego is big enough to take it.”

“No one’s ego can be as big as yours, weirdo,” Isabella said. “It’s just lucky your heart is also as big.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he said, looking at his sister with open affection now, freeing Olivia at last, to breathe, to think, to get with it… “So, are we going to take this show on the road? Or are we going to stand here and do more Derek-bashing?”

Isabella gave a giggle and, God help her, Olivia smiled, the move easy. Too easy.