Page 87 of Just Say Yes
I remained silent and Lorcan’s laugh suddenly died away. ‘Oh, God, you do, don’t you?’
‘As I said,’ concentrating on a task in front of me without really taking it in, ‘you ought to go and get yourself some food before it gets too much later and you go past it.’
‘I rarely go past it.’
‘Even so.’
I turned in my chair to file something in the low cabinet behind me and when I turned back, Lorcan was standing in front of the desk. My backside practically left the chair. ‘Jesus!’ I said, my hand flying to my chest. ‘Your dog makes more noise moving than you. You scared the life out of me.’
‘Sorry.’ He screwed up his face in a grimace.
‘It’s fine. We just need to fit you with a bell or something. Are you off, then?’
‘Sorry,’ he repeated.
‘I said—’
‘No, I mean I’m sorry about what I said about the meal-organisation thing. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s actually a good idea, especially when you’re working long days.’
I tilted my head back to meet his eyes, tucking an errant curl behind my ear as I did so. ‘Lorcan, it’s fine. I know you and I work and think completely differently and that’s OK. You feel I over-plan and schedule my life too much and that’s your prerogative. I do what works for me and you do what works for you. It doesn’t really bother me what other people think.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yep.’
‘So if you’re so unaffected by other people’s opinions, why did you go the same shade as those roses?’ he asked, pointing to the scarlet arrangement I’d set in a crystal vase on my desk. ‘Secret admirer?’
Clearly, I needed to add ‘find a better foundation’ to my to-do list for tomorrow.
‘I did not. It’s just the light in here and your propensity to try and wind me up, which I’m afraid to say you’ve failed to do. And no, they’re not. Fiadh sent them as a thank you for using them for the wedding.’
Lorcan did that sexy half-smile, clearly remaining unconvinced. ‘If you say so.’
‘Think whatever you like,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders and putting a hand up to rub my neck as the action alerted me to a tightness in my left shoulder.
‘Come on,’ Lorcan said. ‘Give it a rest now. You’re tired and hungry and you’ve been up since five-thirty this morning.’
‘How do you know what time I got up?’
He pointed to the calendar on my wall, a copy of the one on my fridge.
‘You’re far too nosy for your own good, you know that, don’t you?’
‘I’ve had worse said about me. So? Dinner?’
‘Yes. Go, go,’ I said, shooing him out as I returned to my task.
‘I meant together,’ he said, moving around behind me, his hand creeping towards the power button on my computer.
‘Touch that before I’ve saved my document and that letter opener is coming your way, sod the blood.’
Lorcan’s hand shot back into his pocket but soft laughter filled my ears and the faint scent of aftershave wrapped itself around my senses. There was never enough to overpower, but just enough to make you want to get closer and—
‘You know what? You’re absolutely right. I definitely need food,’ I said, hitting save and then shutting down my screen. ‘I think I’m feeling a bit light-headed.’
‘Are you?’ he asked, moving my office chair round gently so that I was facing him. Oh, great. Well, that rather backfired. Now sight has joined its mates, scent and hearing, in the game of ‘let’s see how attractive we can make this entirely inappropriate man appear to Maddie today’.
‘Look at me.’ His words were gentle and held a note of solicitude, the coal-black brows knitting together as he studied me. What was it about that accent? I’d never really thought I’d been one to be affected by accents before. Of course, I would find out to the contrary at the most inconvenient time possible.
