Page 3 of Betrayal

His mouth quirked up.“I’ll let you find out.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”Bea turned on her heel, balancing her almost full glass of wine carefully.

“I’m Anna Turner.”She paused, her heels enabling her to be on eye level with him.“I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“I asked another guest.”

“Why?”Anna was fresh out of small talk.She wanted to go home and howl at all the malignant gods of the universe who’d conspired to thwart her meticulously researched, carefully negotiated, and enthusiastically anticipated childcare centre plan.

“You interest me.”He edged closer, and the only clue he’d moved was the whiff of his sandalwood scent.

“I’m flattered.”Or I might be in some parallel universe.“But you’ve caught me at the wrong time.I’m about to leave.”

“Why don’t I buy you”—he considered her champagne flute, half full of mineral water—"another drink somewhere quieter where we can talk.”

“Are you looking to share marketing tips?”Antonio would expect her to check, and Hunter wasn’t responsible for her black mood.

“Will a yes or a no improve my chances of you staying?”When he made the effort to smile, he moved up a notch from broody-handsome to gorgeous.His slim-fitting jacket conveyed elegant vigour, adding another layer of sumptuousness to her impression.The fine cashmere wool of his jacket begged to be stroked.Don’t go there.

“What’s your specialty?”She appreciated his style—his gaze hadn’t once strayed below her chin, and her décolletage truly was shocking.She liked his persistence, truth be told.A lot of men turned tail when confronted with her acerbic tongue.

He sipped his drink, drawing attention to his hand.Brown and scarred, reminding her of Niall, her sibling-in-law’s hands.None of Hunter’s scars looked recent, but the working-man’s hands reassured her as the expensive clothes and dynamic looks hadn’t.“I’m an architect by training, although I spent a lot of time on building sites growing up.”

“Commercial, residential, industrial, sustainable or conservation?”Excitement rippled through Anna.Maybe his arrival was an omen.“Architect” was her magic word.

“Hard to chat freely in this crowd.”The twinkle in his eye hinted at a humour hidden until now.

“I’m interested in designs for a childcare centre.”Anna abandoned subtlety.He stared at the ceiling and looked around the room before bringing his gaze back to her face.Truth or dare?She had only his word he was an architect.She took a punt on the history written on his damaged hands.“One drink.Downstairs bar.”

“Shall we go?”He might have been pleased or indifferent; his expression didn’t change.

“I need to say a few goodbyes.I’ll meet you there.”She glanced at her smartwatch.“Ten minutes, tops.”

Anna finessed her way through the press of people to reach Bea’s side.“He’s an architect.I’m having one drink, downstairs, and picking his brain.I’ll text you when I leave.”

Bea caught her arm, held her long enough to brush a cautionary kiss to her cheek, and whispered, “Make sure you do.Or I’ll come after you.”Her friend’s citrusy shampoo carried the scent of girl-next-door reliable.

“Yes, Mama.”

Anna gathered her jacket and spoke to a few friends, all the while edging toward the door, then took the stairs.Hunter was crossing the last few metres to the bar’s entrance when she hit the bottom step.For a big man, he moved quietly.Avoiding attention?Impossible, given the controlled power emanating from him.She’d accepted a drink, nothing more, so she shrugged into her jacket and zipped it closed.

Hunter rose to his feet when Anna walked into the bar, his survey taking in the thigh-length jacket ballooning around her dress.“What can I get you to drink?”

“Hot chocolate.”She smiled at the waiter who’d approached.“Please.”

“I’ll have coffee.Black.Can I start a tab?”

“Certainly, sir.”

“Thanks.”

Hunter waited until Anna sat on the low sofa before taking the seat beside her.His body was angled toward her, but the distance between them told her he wasn’t making assumptions.

Smart man.

“Why a childcare centre?”

Soft rock played in the background, giving the bar a friendly, rather than intimate, vibe.The spill-over of escapees from the cocktail party talking business was a further vindication of Anna’s choice of venue for this “almost-business” chat.She had backup, if needed.She didn’t do casual hook-ups.Ever.

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