his overwhelming personality and those dark, striking good looks, but she hadnât. In the middle of a question, or as he swivelled to one side when he spoke on the telephone, or even at the end of a long day, when he stretched so that his taut, muscular body flexed beneath the well-tailored suit, she could feel her eyes travel the length of his body, she could feel her mouth become suddenly dry.
Now, she dealt with her own treacherous and aggravating response to him by doing her utmost to avoid eye contact.
âBeing difficult? Explain what you mean by being difficult .â
Jessica didnât answer. She walked across the room removed her jacket and coat from the hanger and then walked back to her pile of papers. Without looking at him, she began sifting through them, pausing to read snatches of reports, then she stuffed the lot into her briefcase and snapped it shut.
âIâm tired too,â she said, meeting his stare reluctantly. âItâs been a long week.â
âYouâre right,â he surprised her by saying. âFriday is the worst day to work late. Donât you agree?â He had slung his jacket over the back of the leather chair, and he stuck it on, tugging his tie off and shoving it into his pocket. Then he undid the top button of his shirt.
Jessica followed all of this with a mortifying sense of compulsion, then she blinked and dragged her eyes away.
The end of the case couldnât come a day too soon as far as she was concerned. Working alongside Bruno Carr was stretching her nerves to breaking-point, and she couldnât quite work out why.
âFridays are meant for relaxing. Winding down before the business of the weekend.â
She shrugged and made no comment.
âIâll see you on Monday,â she said, facing him.
âIâll get the lift down with you.â
They walked together to the lift and as the doors shut he turned to her and said, âBig plans for tonight?â
âNot big, no. And you?â His eyes were boring into her but she refused to look at him.
âSmall plans, then?â
She clicked her tongue with impatience. There had been no more prying into her personal life, not since that unsettling meal out three weeks previously, but for some reason he was in the mood to stir and she was handy.
âI shall put my feet up and relax.â
âIsnât that what you did last Friday?â he mused thoughtfully, and she clenched her fists tightly around the handle of her briefcase.
âIs it?â she asked innocently, refusing to become bait for his sense of humour. âI forget. Iâm surprised you remember, actually.â
âOh, I remember everything. Itâs one of my talents.â
âAlong with your modesty.â
He laughed under his breath. âI hope we arenât working you too hard...â His voice was speculative, paternal and didnât fool her for an instant. âI wouldnât want to be accused of coming between you and your love life.â
The doors pinged open, and Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. Bruno was tenacious. When he got hold of something, he was like a dog with a bone, which was fine when it came to work, but when he started directing it at her private life she had an instinctive urge to dive and take cover.
âIâll make sure not to accuse you of any such thing, in that case,â she answered politely. They walked out of the building and into dark, driving rain.
âHave a good weekendâ He strolled off in the direction of the companyâs underground car park, and five minutes later she saw him sweep away, his car sending up a fine spray.
Jessica held her briefcase awkwardly over her head, ventured to the side of the kerb and waited for a vacant cab which, after fifteen minutes, was beginning to resemble a hunt for the proverbial needle in the haystack.
She should have walked to the underground, but her feet ached, and now it seemed