LITMIR.BIZ

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tonight.

      ‘You know, I have lots of work to do.’ She let her gaze slide over her desk—it was covered with designs and half-finished pieces that she’d decided weren’t going to go in the show. But he didn’t know that.

      He looked at the table, then at her. ‘You want me to leave?’

      Sophy forced a shrug. ‘Rosanna’s back in town, she’ll probably be home soon.’

      ‘And you don’t want her to know how loud I can make you come.’

      She coloured. She supposed she deserved it. She was being rude chucking him out. ‘I wouldn’t be able to come with anyone right next door.’

      ‘Really.’ His sarcasm practically splashed on the floor. He pulled on his tee shirt and jeans.

      He was angry—the way he moved totally gave it away. Well, so was she.

      He didn’t kiss her goodbye. Just strode out. She didn’t speak—just slipped into the lounge and watched from the window as he jogged down to his car. But to her surprise he didn’t get into it and drive off. Instead he kept on jogging, his pace picking up to a hard-out run. In the darkened room she kept an eye on the street. It was a good forty minutes later before he returned. His tee shirt sweat darkened in patches. He didn’t look at the house, stayed too focused on his car for it to be natural as he unlocked and slid into it. The engine roared. He was at the speed limit in a second.

      Sophy usually spent an hour each morning working with Jemma making sure the girl had a good grasp of the processes. She did—she certainly wasn’t clueless. Then Sophy left and went into her mini workshop. Her heart sank as she saw the volume of work she still had to do. Her confidence had dipped—none of it was good enough to go on display. She was totally fooling herself. She was going to embarrass herself completely. Her mobile went and she answered right away—glad of the excuse to turn her back on the mess. She listened. ‘Sure, I’ll come right away.’

      She met him on the stairs on the way out.

      ‘Where are you going?’ His super-size frown was back.

      ‘I’ve promised my mother I’d meet her to help with something at lunch.’

      ‘But you’re supposed to be making your jewellery. You’ve still got several pieces unfinished.’ He climbed to the stair just below hers.

      ‘I know,’ she said, pausing for a second to wonder how he knew—had he been poking around in her room up there? ‘But I promised.’

      He looked angrier than he had when he’d left last night. He stretched his hands out to the rails either side of the stairs so he made a wall she somehow had to get past. ‘But you’ve only got a week ’til the show.’

      She knew that too. ‘I’ll work on them later.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t want to do it, do you? The exhibition.’

      ‘What? Of course I do.’

      ‘If you did you’d be prioritising it.’

      She stiffened at the implied criticism. ‘Things other than work have priority in my life, Lorenzo. People have priority.’ Which was more than could be said for him. As far as she could tell he lived for work and work alone. People—relationships—didn’t feature in the equation at all. ‘My mother has asked for help. I’m pleased to be able to.’

      ‘No, she could get someone else. It’s just that you can’t say no when someone asks you. It wouldn’t matter if it was her or anyone.’

      ‘And that’s a bad thing?’ She glared at him.

      ‘It is when it stops you from achieving your own dreams.’

      ‘Like I said, people come first for me, Lorenzo. Always.’

      ‘Aren’t you a person? Isn’t what you want just as valid as what others want? Surely if you explained how busy you were, she’d find someone else to do whatever it is. A paid assistant, perhaps?’

      She stiffened—but not because of the little jibe.

      His eyes narrowed. ‘She doesn’t know, does she?’ With scary precision he zoomed in on the problem.

      No, and Sophy didn’t want her to—didn’t want any of them to. ‘The sooner I go and do this, the sooner I can get back upstairs.’

      ‘But you were out yesterday afternoon too. For three hours.’

      What was he, her timesheet? She wasn’t accountable to him. Not on this.

      ‘You can’t let this opportunity go, Sophy. Your work is too good.’

      That made her even more tense—she felt pressure enough without him making sweet comments like that. ‘I really have to go, Lorenzo.’ She looked past him down the stairs. ‘And it really isn’t any of your business.’ He wouldn’t open up to her at all, so why should he have the right to comment on her life?

      ‘Sophy,’ he said quietly, leaning forward and branding her lips with the heat of his. ‘At least be quick.’

       Chapter Eight

      ‘SOPHY, can you come with me, please?’ Lorenzo met her as she walked into the building.

      She glanced at Kat behind the reception desk, hoping the girl hadn’t picked up on the chill in his words. ‘Of course.’

      Was he mad with her? She hadn’t returned to the warehouse yesterday—had got held up completely until the early evening. Her sister had come round and it had turned into a whole family gathering. She’d made excuses and gone after a while—but she needn’t have hurried. Lorenzo hadn’t come round, had left no message on her phone. It was the first night they hadn’t had sex all week. And stupidly she’d had less sleep than ever. So she really wasn’t in the mood to have a hard time from him.

      He led her out the back and gestured for her to get into his car.

      ‘Where are we going?’ She fixed her seat belt—he already had the engine running.

      ‘You’ll see.’ He fiddled with the stereo and put the music up loud. What, he didn’t want conversation?

      ‘I had a nice night, thanks.’ She chit chatted really loudly just to annoy him. He didn’t want to talk personal? Tough. ‘Big dinner with my parents and Victoria and Ted. It’s my niece’s birthday this weekend so we were celebrating early. Rosanna sent a text. She’s in Sydney for a few days.’

      He gave her a sideways look but said nothing.

      Yeah, she loved having conversations by herself. So she gave up. They drove through half of Auckland and she relaxed into the comfortable seat. Suddenly she sat up. ‘Lorenzo, this is the airport.’

      ‘And we’re right on time.’

      On time for what? ‘Where are we going?’

      ‘Have you ever gotten on a plane and not known the destination?’

      She shook her head.

      ‘Now’s your chance.’

      ‘Lorenzo—’

      ‘Have you ever taken a risk? Gone with an impulse?’

      ‘Maybe,’ she said cautiously. Like the time she’d come on to him with the basketball.

      He parked the car, crossed his arms and called her on it. ‘What are you going to do, Sophy? Play it safe or walk on the wild side? Come on an adventure.’

      ‘How wild an adventure?’

      ‘Totally legal.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Honestly, don’t make a big deal about it, you’ll end up disappointed.’

      She

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