Don’t beam at me. Don’t shine like you’ve just won the lottery.
‘Yes.’
She beamed at him, and he scowled right back because the world needed balance.
But he gave her the respect her qualifications deserved and took her on a comprehensive tour, the VIP colleague version, and she was knowledgeable, enthusiastic and full of praise. She cooed over his rare mating pairs. Told a featherless but talkative parrot he was her new favourite, and when they entered the aviary full of peregrine falcons and he handed her gloves and a bucket of feed she proved herself more than capable of feeding them by hand in orderly fashion.
She kept enough physical distance from him to render him comfortable, right up until they rounded a bend outside aviary three and she lost her footing on a slippery rock step and he shot out his hand to steady her. These paths could be dangerous, especially when covered in late afternoon shade.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured, righting herself. ‘Slippery.’
He probably should have anticipated the sudden pounding of his heart—either from touching her or at the thought of her falling. Nothing to do with sexual attraction at all. Probably.
‘Give me your shoe size and I’ll order some boots in with rubber tread like mine.’
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘I do that for everyone who works for me. Not that you do work for me or that I expect you to. But if you want unlimited, unsupervised access to the aviaries, you may as well have all the gear.’
‘And will you allow me that access?’
‘Yes.’
Her eyes lit up, the same way they always had done when they’d been kids and she’d done well and been praised for it. Made him want to preen. Made him a little too slow to drop his hand and withdraw that physical support. More fool him.
He’d embarked on project Make Claudia Welcome in an effort to get over her, not to become ever more in thrall to the woman.
By the time they got back to his office, the sun had slid behind the distant mountain range and shadows painted the ground. He scanned the clipboard on his desk, and the long list of tasks and ticks and the comments column for anything in need of his attention. She was still there. Still eager to know everything.
‘You’ve expanded so much. It’s brilliant! Imagine what you could do with more resources,’ Claudia was saying.
If only.
And why was she still here? They’d said their farewells five minutes ago, hadn’t they?
‘Do you want more resources?’ she asked perceptively.
‘Your brother and I have discussed it.’ Tomas hoped that with their recent speed trial wins that they might take another look at avian resources, but it hadn’t happened yet. Cas was busy, not least with reining in his long lost and in no way dead sibling. ‘It’ll happen eventually.’ He wanted to believe it. ‘Your brother means well.’
‘Damned by faint praise,’ she murmured.
‘But it is praise. Your father’s rule was...difficult. People are understandably wary, and your brother has yet to prove himself. I know what you’re doing, by the way. Making your views the target of political outrage when anyone with a brain knows they’re your brother’s views as well. Nice little sidestep he’s got going there. Letting you take all the heat.’
‘Careful, Tomas. I’ll start to think you’re a political being.’
‘Never. Spare me the company of craven courtiers. I hate them all.’ He meant it.
‘And yet my brother speaks very highly of your ability to deal with them.’
‘I serve as I ever have.’
Claudia snorted, and even that managed to sound fetching. ‘I certainly hope not. From memory, you and your father and the rest of the staff here were extremely adept at limiting my father’s impact on the world around him.’
He grunted in reply. No point incriminating himself or others.
‘So what do you think of the water rights treaty?’ she asked. ‘It’s exciting, right? With conservation at the forefront and guaranteed access for those who need it.’
Always with the questions, luring him into unwanted conversation.