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talk about this inside. Let me in. Please, Susie?’

      Susie hesitated and then grudgingly stepped aside so that he could enter. As soon as he entered he seemed to fill the entire place. She busied herself gathering the flowers. She had two vases, into which she crammed as many as she could, and then she rested the remainder by the window to be sorted out later.

      For the moment...

      She retreated to the sofa and sat down, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

      ‘I admit I questioned your motives,’ Sergio said heavily. He perched uncomfortably on the far end of the sofa. ‘Can you blame me?’

      ‘And what’s made you change your mind.’

      Sergio wasn’t sure he actually had changed his mind, but he figured that complete honesty in this instance would be a mistake. The main thing was that she had managed to get to him in a way other women hadn’t, for reasons he couldn’t define, and if indeed she did turn out to be a gold-digger then she wouldn’t get very far—especially as he knew what to look out for.

      ‘I turned you away because...’ He stood up and restlessly prowled through the room, subliminally clocking the fact that in between the dusty furnishings and tired decor there were one or two items of spectacular worth.

      What did that say? What would she say if he pointed them out to her? How was it that she couldn’t afford somewhere better to live when hanging on the wall was a tiny but extremely valuable abstract painting by an up-and-coming artist? And nestled amongst the bric-a-brac on the mantelpiece was what appeared to be an original Tiffany lamp?

      His jaw tightened. Even recognising those anomalies, he still found that he was driven to stay put.

      ‘Because...’ he resumed his seat on the sagging sofa ‘...if you’re a gold-digger then nothing’s going to come of your efforts, and if you’re just hopelessly naive then I was doing you a favour, because you’ll end up getting hurt by me.’

      Susie frowned. ‘What makes you say that?’

      ‘I don’t do long-term relationships.’

      ‘And what makes you think that I do? No, I take that back... What makes you think that I would cast you in the role of someone I want to have a long-term relationship with?’

      ‘Women have a habit of becoming over-involved...’

      ‘You’re...an attractive man,’ she said carefully, ‘but there’s no chance that I would ever become “over-involved” with someone like you...’

       ‘Someone like me?’

      ‘I’m a creative person...’

      She thought of her parents’ response to the creative types she had introduced to them in the past. Perhaps some of her friends had been a little too creative.

      ‘It’s not as though I would necessarily want to get involved with someone exactly like me...but I would want to get involved with someone funny, thoughtful, considerate, kind, sensitive... A guy like that would never accuse me of being a gold-digger, and he would never tell me that I’m so naive that I can’t take care of myself—and he would definitely never be so downright arrogant as to assume that I would fall head over heels in love with him, given half a chance! I mean...who do you think you are, anyway...?’

      Sergio was frankly lost for words. He wondered whether he should mention that there wasn’t another woman on the planet who would react to his appearance at her front door, carrying half a shop’s worth of expensive roses, by digging her heels in and giving him a furious lecture on all his failings.

      ‘I came here because I felt there was unfinished business between us,’ was all he could find to say.

      Susie raised her eyebrows.

      ‘Didn’t you?’ he asked softly. ‘Feel like there was unfinished business between us?’

      She hesitated.

      Was that what she had been feeling?

      Torn between wanting to assert her independence and show him that he couldn’t just turn up at her door with a bunch of flowers and expect her to swoon and just give in to whatever it was that had taken her over like a virus, she was stuck for words.

      ‘Well?’ Sergio inserted smoothly, firing on all cylinders and interpreting her hesitation correctly for what it was. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you...’

      He didn’t make a move towards her, but he seemed able to sense every little thought running through her head with his finely tuned antennae. She had an expressive face. So much of him was tempted to give her the benefit of the doubt, to believe that she was as straightforward as she claimed to be, and yet...

      Her appearance at the restaurant, the startling red dress, the ease with which she had accompanied him back to his place despite protesting that she wasn’t that sort of girl...those random hugely expensive trinkets dotted around her flat...

      ‘I’m not your type...’ She looked at him narrowly, licked her lips. He was...formidable—lounging back there on her sofa in all his dark, dangerous, sexy glory.

      ‘I’m willing to break the mould...’

      But she didn’t go in for short-lived affairs—never had. She might have broken up with her last boyfriend but it had been a relationship born from optimism that it would stay the course. Quite different from indulging in something that didn’t stand a chance...

      To even think about...anything at all with the man now looking at her with those midnight-blue eyes would be downright reckless.

      ‘You told me that I wasn’t your type either,’ he reminded her in the same soft, speculative voice that felt like a caress. ‘Maybe it’s just a case of opposites attracting...’

      He’d never had to work so hard with any woman before, and he wondered whether it was the irresistible lure of a challenge.

      ‘You’re not my type.’

      ‘So why the hesitation? We can both go into this with our eyes wide open and enjoy one another or I can walk out through that door—and I promise you that there won’t be a next time as far as I am concerned. This is the most I’ve ever had to do when it comes to chasing a woman. I’ve exhausted my interest in active pursuit.’

      ‘You make it sound so...so cold...so businesslike...’

      ‘I could wrap it up in pretty paper if you’d prefer,’ Sergio said drily. ‘But would that change anything? We’re attracted to one another. I can feel it between us like something alive... And if you come a bit closer and touch me you’ll certainly feel just how attracted to you I am and just how much I want to make love to you right now...’

      Her heart skipped a beat. She remained where she was. He was right. There was a spark of electricity between them that crackled and there was no point denying that. And so what if he was...practical about whatever this was...? So what if he was blunt when it came to doing something about it?

      The romantic in her might want to hear all the flowery stuff that came at the start of a relationship—but that flowery stuff didn’t amount to very much most of the time, did it? He was giving her his own unvarnished view of what they had.

      Mutual, physical attraction—take it or leave it.

      ‘Are you so...so cold and detached with other women?’ she asked. Or was he like this only with her because he’d known from the get-go that she wasn’t the sort of woman who would ever be able to hold his interest for very long?

      ‘You talk a lot...’

      But he grinned and a little more of her melted. He had the most amazing grin. It altered the harsh contours of his beautiful face and made him seem suddenly, wildly accessible and even more mind-blowingly sexy. Did he have a turn-on switch

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