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He was looking forward to the latest anecdotes.

      But part-way through the week, reluctant to break the connection too soon one night, he’d ended up talking to her about his own work. The deal was almost sealed—two more properties added to his collection and a million more hassles to work through. He confessed them to her—he, who’d worn all the worries alone for years, now found himself telling her the most stupid small details. She listened, she laughed and somehow helped him cut through the burden. She was a good listener. But it didn’t make him want to see her any less.

      ‘I’m flying back into Wellington on Monday. You want to do lunch next week?’ he asked as soon as she answered his call. He wanted lunch on Monday but he was trying to keep it casual. Not desperate. They were friends now, so the driving need to see her could just ease off—yes?

      ‘Oh, I can’t, sorry, not going to be here.’

      He sat bolt upright. ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘I’ll be on the road again, back-to-back tours.’

      ‘Damn it, Ellie, you’ve got to be kidding me.’ Pissed off, he flung back the covers and got out of bed to pace. ‘Why back to back? You’ll be exhausted.’

      ‘I’ll be fine. It’s fun. I’ll call you.’

      Yeah, but that wasn’t quite enough. He found himself thinking of her all the time. Wanting to tell her things, filing them away for when he called her. Wishing she could see his new place. Wanting to hear her ideas on what could be done with it.

      ‘So how’s your inspection going?’ She filled the silence that had grown too long.

      ‘Okay. A few staffing issues but then there always are. We can work through them. It’s a stunning location. It’s very different from the chateau and the lodge but just as beautiful. I think you’ll love it.’

      Now she took her time answering. ‘I’m sure everyone will. You have a talent for spotting places that people will be drawn to.’

      He wanted her to be drawn there—like the way she’d been drawn to both the chateau and the lodge. ‘You must be tired from the last tour.’ He knew just how much of herself she poured into those. There was no perfunctory checking names off a clipboard, she basically put on a show for the people. ‘You should have a break.’

      ‘I’m okay. It’s nice to be busy,’ she answered breezily. ‘I’m really enjoying the work. Want to take up any opportunity Bridie gives me.’

      ‘Don’t let her take advantage of you.’

      A low laugh. ‘I won’t.’

      * * *

      Eight days later Ellie’s phone buzzed with yet another text message. He’d developed a skill for random comments during the day. Ellie was now in the habit of having her hand in her pocket, holding her phone, ready to answer instantly. But just as she was answering the text, he actually called. Unfortunately it was just as she was waiting for some stragglers to get to her bus. ‘Aren’t you flying to Auckland this afternoon?’ She didn’t bother saying hello.

      ‘Yes, but I wanted to tell you about—’

      ‘Nope, go pack or something,’ she said.

      ‘You’re cutting me off?’

      ‘Yes, I have a tour group waiting for me.’

      ‘Oh, okay, I’ll call you later.’

      She put her phone back in her pocket and smiled at her waiting people—ignoring the fluttering buoyancy of her heart. But it was lifted high on that confidence that when she called back he’d be there to listen. And talk right back to her. She loved the way he talked to her about his work now, how familiar they were with what was going on in their lives. She was getting the hang of handling his friendship—sure she was.

      * * *

      ‘Ellie.’

      She was properly awake in an instant. ‘Is something wrong? It’s the middle of the night.’

      ‘I was thinking about you.’

      She smiled but said nothing. She’d been thinking about him too. She clutched the phone closer and burrowed more into her warm bed.

      ‘Ellie?’

      ‘I’m here.’ She giggled at the hint of belligerence in his tone. ‘Have you been drinking?’

      ‘No.’ Defensive to the extreme. A sigh. ‘I just can’t get to sleep and I’m so tired.’

      ‘Make yourself a mug of warm milk,’ she said wryly.

      ‘It’s too hot here for milk.’ He groaned, not appreciating her tone. ‘It’s really hot.’

      ‘Turn on the air conditioner.’

      ‘It’s too noisy.’

      ‘So you thought you’d ring me instead, at 3:00 a.m. Little bit spoilt of you, Ruben.’

      ‘What can I say? I was an only child.’

      She heard the smile then. Smiled back in response but was glad he wasn’t there to see just how easily he brought her onside.

      ‘You ever had phone sex?’ he asked.

      Boom. Lightning hit her heart, instantly sucking her into an intimate vortex. ‘Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?’

      ‘Just answer the question.’

      ‘No, I think I’d get the giggles.’ Honesty prevailed.

      ‘Yeah.’ He chuckled. ‘We could always have Skype sex. Then we’d get the visuals. I know you like a movie.’ Oh, he was wicked.

      And it had been weeks since her last orgasm. ‘Except I don’t have one of those fancy smart phones with the camera and all.’

      ‘I could buy you a smart phone.’

      She didn’t want him to buy her anything. ‘Ruben.’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘We’re supposed to be friends and not having any kind of sex.’ She knew down to the hour how long it had been and, no, it wasn’t getting easier. But it would. Sure it would.

      ‘Oh, hell,’ he muttered. ‘I forgot about that.’

      ‘Obviously.’

      ‘I’ll try harder.’ He sounded contrite.

      ‘Yeah, you need to try much, much harder.’

      ‘Yeah,’ he answered softly. ‘You like it hard.’

      ‘Ruben,’ she warned him. Biting her lip because, hell, yes, she’d liked it hard from him.

      ‘What’ll you do to me if I slip up again?’

      Slip up? Oh, yeah, she could think of the exact thing he’d slip up and into her.

      ‘I’m sure I could come up with a suitable punishment.’ Oh, this was ridiculous. She was getting turned on by the slightest smut talk? ‘I’ll find some way of restraining you.’

      So many ideas of restraint just flooded her head. She heard the faintest strangled sound and smiled. She wasn’t the only one sensing the innuendo.

      ‘What if I fight back?’ he asked softly. Ominously. ‘You know I do like to tease. And I can keep that up for a long, long time.’

      ‘You’d want to draw it out?’ She slid lower into her bed. Her toes scrunching, trying not to let her hips flex the way they were begging to.

      He sighed—oh, it was more of a groan. She could hear the sensual ache in it. Her hands yearned to touch, to relieve both of them.

      ‘Draw out and then push back in. Deep. Over and over,’ he muttered so soft. No double talk now. Direct, so close to

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