George eased himself into the Ferrari beside her. He did not turn on the engine for a moment, though.

Molly breathed hard. Her fingernails were scoring deep grooves into the leather of her expensive briefcase with the effort of maintaining a dignified silence.

"You know you're cute when you huff through your nose like that," he said reflectively. "Any dragon in your ancestry?"

Molly gave up. Sometimes professional was just not an option. She put back her head and screamed.

The Nightmare Client grinned. "I like a woman who can let herself go."

It was deliberate provocation and Molly knew it. She struggled not to whip back a retort in kind.

Eventually she said in her crispest voice, "I'll make a note of that for the press pack tomorrow, shall I?"

He did not like that, she saw with satisfaction. He did not lose concentration. Over the enforced intimacy of the past three days she had learned that George Hunter never lost concentration. But one eyebrow rose.

"Why tell the press?"

"Because that's what I do." She was heavily patient. She enjoyed being heavily patient. "About 90 percent of PR is briefing the press, one way or another."

"Briefing them on the car," corrected George uneasily. "Not me."She gave him a wolfish smile. "Oh, but you're much more interesting."

That would get him nervous, she thought. That would wipe the superior half smile off that handsome face. That would win her a much-needed point in this devilish game of his.

She was wrong.

There was a pause. Then George said thoughtfully, "You don't think so."

And sat back pleasurably waiting for her to blush.

Molly ground her teeth. What could she do? If she said no, she didn't think he was interesting, she had made his point for him. If she said yes, she did find him more interesting than his blasted car, she opened the door to heaven knows what.

Molly might refuse to acknowledge it just at the moment, but she knew there was a simmering attraction between her and George Hunter. In the past three days he had said nothing that the most modest woman could object to. But she reacted to half the things he said as if they were invitations to bed.

So no, she was not going to say aloud that she found him interesting. Which meant another easy win for George Hunter. Again.

But she wasn't going to blush either.

"Drive," she advised. "We've got places to go. People to see."

He sighed. Then set the Ferrari in motion.

"I guess you'll tell me the truth one day, chère."

She shuddered at the thought. Truth, in Molly's experience, was an unexploded bomb. Especially where sex was concerned.

Forget that. You haven't thought about it for years.

But they were driving through the gentle Somerset countryside now. Exactly the place where she had found out just what fire truth and sex ignited when they mixed. It had sent her whole life up in flames.

Most of the time she managed to put it out of her mind. But it had changed her forever. And she certainly did not want clever, game-playing George Hunter digging into what happened here five years ago.

So she said, "All right. I think you're a phenomenon. Really." She showed her teeth in a smile that was 100 percent hostility. "Nerds of the world, unite!"

To be continued?



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