What was it with this guy? Apparently, the word ‘no’ didn’t mean anything to him. The more she thought about it, the more she realized this was the way most men behaved, so it really shouldn’t have surprised her. Most men would insist on pushing her buttons, pushing her limits, trying to get her to do things she had explicitly said she wouldn’t do. Usually, they gave up after she shut them down firmly.

But she hadn't shut Matty down firmly. In fact, she’d given him every possible opportunity to push her limits.

She needed to make it clear to him that she was not interested at all.

Christina looked up as the door swung open and Matty Spencer made his way in for the fifth time that morning. Perfect.

“Guess where I’ve been?”

“Out of the office? Not bothering me while I work?”

“Oh good. The attitude is back, I see. Is it some sort of a defense mechanism, like when a cat puffs up to make itself look big?”

She glared, but couldn’t help admitting to herself he was right. That didn’t mean she’d tell him though.

“I don’t have time for this. If you’re not going to let me work, I’ll quit.”

He shook his head. “I’ll only be here for a few more seconds, then I’ll leave you alone to continue your intimate bonding with my backlogged post. I know how much you do enjoy envelopes.”

She sighed heavily and ignored his last sentence. “Hurry up, so I can get back to work. I still have a lot to do.”

“I just booked us a table at The Grill in the West End. Newly opened, actually staffed by celebrity chefs.”

Christina paused, ran the sentence by herself again and, still not making sense of it, made direct eye contact with Matty. “Why?”

“For our business dinner tonight.” He smirked as if she should’ve caught on the first time, which she had.

“Dining alone might be bad for your image.”

“Don’t worry. You can bring my mail with you, work at the table. Multitask as they say.”

Heat rushed into Christina’s face. “What makes you think I don’t have plans already?” She hadn’t shut him down yet, she thought. Why hadn’t she just told him no? Why did she goad him? She knew the reason and it frustrated her even more.

“We both know that’s not the case.”

“It seems like an inefficient way to conduct business.” Still hadn’t shut him down. Do not agree to dinner with him, Christina.

He stalked toward her and her pulse sped up on her neck. “We both know this is going to happen. Everyone has business dinners.” He paused. “And it’s a perfectly efficient way to conduct business. Are you suggesting you can only sort the mail under these lights?” He smirked and stared at the lamps in the room.

She began to speak and he cut her off.

“There is something to the lights, isn’t there? I’m sure it’s the optimum condition under which one could pay bills.”

“This is exactly the reason why I’m here.” Christina shook her head, but caught herself fidgeting with a pen on the desk. “Just because other people are having business dinners doesn’t make it a good idea.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, clearly irritated with her stubbornness. “It's a meal at a nice restaurant where I can drink wine and talk about business surrounded by beautiful things, rather than cramped up in a stuffy little office. It sounds like a very good idea to me. I’d prefer it to this room.”

She stared at him in desperation. He was only a few feet away and she thought she might suffocate. “Do you ever think about anything other than what you want?”

His mouth curled up into a smile. “Absolutely not.”

Christina’s jaw tightened. “Do you ever ask yourself if you should do it? If you can afford to do it? If it makes sense to do it? We don't just do things because we want to. Humans are not animals.”

“Actually, they are. You just think you’re better than an animal.” He shrugged. “Please forgive me for offering to buy you dinner.” And with that, he turned around and slammed the door on his way out.

What a child.

He left her alone for the better part of the afternoon. She wasn't sure whether she was happy or irritated. It was good in a sense. This meant that she’d have plenty of time to get ahead on her work. But it was also irritating. He’d walked out on such a bad note, in such an awful mood. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t enjoy people being upset with her. She did want to tell him what she thought of his toddler-like behavior, though. He needed to accept it when someone told him no. It wouldn't achieve anything, of course. It would probably just anger him more. But she had a lot of thoughts and feelings that she was bottling up right now.

Normally, social interactions came naturally to her, the way she could read people and adjust. A little frustration was easy to lock away until she went home, and then she could get back to her flat and either spend a night watching movies with the cat, or get changed and go work out. Something to burn off the steam. But it was hard to hold back everything she felt when she was around Matty. Something about him was different, and it ate at her constantly.

The door swung open and he walked in holding a sheet of paper. He seemed just as angry as he’d been when he walked out. Possibly a little more. But, he marched right up to her and dropped it on the table.

She picked it up. It was a hand-drawn chart covered in numbers and columns. Some were astronomically high. Some were only a few hundred pounds. It would probably make more sense if she went through it on her own, but she didn’t have that kind of time on her hands.

“What is this?” She looked over the page at Matty.

“Proof that I can afford a bloody meal at a restaurant.”

She scanned the sheet again. With context, it made more sense. It wasn’t the best job, definitely not created by an accountant. He’d probably just dug up this week's profit and loss statements from his bank account, as well as the restaurant's menu, and then pieced it together himself. Him taking the time to do it made her want to smile. Clearly, he wanted to have a meal with her.

“Did you go out of your way to put this together?”

He nodded. “I did. Seeing as apparently, I need to provide scientific evidence to enjoy my dinner. Happy?”

She hadn’t expected this. A man of his stature jumping through hoops just for her. Doing something he’d clearly never done before, just because he thought it would impress her. “Yes.” She muttered the word under her breath.

“Come again? Couldn’t hear you.”

She scowled, but it was a fake scowl with a smile threatening to break out from beneath it. “I said yes.”

“So, is the dinner permitted now?”

She sighed heavily. “Is it really important to you?”

“Isn’t that apparent? You saw the trouble I went through. I didn’t peg you for one to ask inefficient questions.”

She held back a laugh. He really was playing this game? She should turn him down right then. It would be fun to take down a guy with an ego like his. Even a simple rejection was enough to anger him.

But she didn't want to turn him down. If she were honest with herself, she knew she was intrigued by him. She really did want to go to dinner with him and find out what he wanted to do and say, how he thought he would win her over. What could it hurt, anyway? A good meal with something nice to look at. It would definitely be more exciting than watching movies with the cat.

“Okay.” She handed the paper back. “The evidence speaks for itself, Mr. Spencer.”

A smug grin spread across his face. “See you there at seven, then.” He snatched the paper from her hand and left the room.

She picked up the next envelope, ready to get back to work. But her focus was shattered. Had she really just done that? Had she agreed to go to his dumb business dinner with him? A dinner that would no doubt be private. An excuse to sit next to her and hit on her.

She’d only been on one business dinner like this before. She’d been naïve and assumed the client was being professional. She’d only made that mistake once. But this wasn't a mistake. This was an actual opportunity, which she was practically handing to Matty on a silver platter. That was the problem. She was almost certain her body would betray her brain again if she went through with this. She’d have to will herself to stay away from his bedroom.

* * *

Arriving at the restaurant, she looked around, wondering how exactly this whole dating thing worked. The setting was definitely not professional. Had she really expected it to be? Of course not. That was why she’d slipped into her little black dress and done her hair up a little more relaxed than usual. She knew what kind of a dinner this was going to be. She was there on her own terms now.

As soon as she mentioned her name the server bowed, took her coat, and showed her to one of the private booths right next to the kitchen. She could see the two celebrity chefs personally cooking their dinner. And in the booth sat Matty, already sipping a glass of wine.

He raised the glass to her. “Good you could make it.”

She sat down at the other side of the table as the server poured her a glass of the same wine. This wasn't too bad. It wasn't professional, but it wasn't sleazy or romantic either.

“You didn’t bring your work with you. One would think you actually came to enjoy yourself.” His shit-eating grin brought heat to her face.

“Oh, I’m capable of enjoying myself, Mr. Spencer. In the presence of certain company.” She matched him with a smirk of her own.

The booth was nice, and the low lights glowed on Matty’s face, bringing out his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. The leather of the seats was soft and luxurious. The aroma of steak filled the whole place and caused her stomach to grumble. Matty started talking to her about the restaurant, its origins, the ideas the chefs had, the design. He’d completely ignored her retort. She couldn’t tell if it was on purpose, or if he’d just learned to brush her insults aside.

Conspicuously absent from the conversation was the job she’d been hired to do, the problems with his life, and the plans she had to help him. Not that she minded. Before the food came he’d regaled her with the entire history of the restaurant, and they’d finished half the bottle of wine.

Perhaps she should at least give him a chance? He wasn't that bad. His mind seemed to hold onto so many random facts, information about trivial things. He was a genius when it came to talking about food, music, and cars. It was too bad that he couldn’t apply his intellect to his actual business.

He went to pour her another glass. She realized she’d already had a couple of hundred pounds worth of alcohol. He could more than afford it, as she’d seen on his makeshift spreadsheet. That still confused her, too. But she still felt bad about drinking wine that expensive. It wasn't like he was going to get what he wanted. She put her hand over the glass.

“No?” He lowered the bottle.

She shook her head. “I’m good for now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Pacing yourself?”

“I don't want to get drunk. It’d be bad news around you.” Her words didn’t come out as sharp and professional as she usually liked. They were much softer, kinder. She knew she was warming up to him. But she shouldn't. She had to keep this exactly as it had been planned—professional.

“I understand that.” He lifted his hand to attract the server's attention. “Could you get her something non-alcoholic to drink?”

The server scurried off to get the drink, and she turned back to him. “Figured you’d prefer me drunk?”

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you. You’ll come to me of your own free will.”

She scoffed. “Is that what this is? Some show of chivalry to get me to lower my guard?”

“A way of getting to know one another. And so far, I like what I see.” He stood and moved around to take a seat beside her.

As it always did whenever he came nearby, her heart kicked up about three notches above normal. “And I guess you're going to wait until I finally fall for you?” She moved her stare to the kitchen to watch the chefs flambé something. The flames licked toward the ceiling in a brief, angry flash.

“Precisely.” He took another sip of his wine.

His close proximity sent goosebumps pebbling up her arm and neck.

“You’ll be waiting a while. I don’t sleep with clients.”

“What about men you go to dinner with? Do you sleep with them?”

“Sometimes, but not with my clients.” She suppressed a smile and noticed Matty’s hand clutching a fork so hard the whites of his knuckles showed.

“I think we both know it’s only a matter of time.” Matty winked at her.

A fucking wink? Is he kidding me right now?

She couldn’t believe how arrogant he could be sometimes. The thought of messing with him seemed like a fun idea. He needed to be brought down a peg or two.

“Like I said, Mr. Spencer.” She winked back at him. An obvious fake wink. “I don’t sleep with clients.”

“You also said you don’t go to dinner with your clients. And yet, here we are.”

Before she knew what’d happened, he’d leaned in next to her ear. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her palms became slick.

“Maybe I’m not a client after all.”

She turned to face him, her brown eyes meeting his sharp blues. She wanted to reply, but she couldn't. Her throat had completely closed off, and any sound she tried to make would certainly catch. He really was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her entire life. Even looking at him was difficult. She lost control any time she made eye contact with him. And, after all, he was right. What harm would it do?

Matty lingered for a moment. He stared into her eyes like he was looking straight past her cold gaze and staring deep inside her. He leaned in, straight toward her mouth. Her vision turned to explosions of fuzzy dots, and her entire body tingled with anticipation.

She leaned in.

His lips met hers.

The explosions turned into fireworks. Electric currents zipped through her limbs and bloomed across her skin. He tasted fantastic. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer so that he couldn’t break the kiss. His hands found her hips and yanked her into him, forceful and strong. His mouth moved along her neck, the same place he’d left a mark that she’d had to cover with makeup that morning. He made her crazy. So insane that she’d forgotten to scold him for it earlier in the day.

The kiss was incredible. But it was wrong. She pushed back, breaking his hold on her waist. She immediately wanted to jump right back into his lap, but she knew it would only lead to disaster. Both of them panted for air. His face was flushed, and his eyes were still hungry and half-hooded. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to do much more than that too. But she just couldn’t, regardless if she was floating on air at the moment. That would fade, and Matty was still, well, Matty.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I want this to remain professional. Please respect my wishes.”

“You kissed me as much as I kissed you.”

She shook her head. “It was a mistake.”

His fingers grazed her cheek and pressed a few stray locks of hair behind her ear. “And what a fantastic mistake it was.”

“We have to keep this professional.”

“Why do the two need to be mutually exclusive?”

She hesitated. She wasn’t really sure. She’d made it a rule years ago when she’d first started. But that was more to get rid of the men she wasn’t interested in. She’d always been aware of how attractive men found her, and she’d wanted to avoid the issue. Saying she had a rule against sleeping with clients was easier than convincing some self-absorbed old man that she found him repulsive. But she actually liked Matty. So why was she applying her rule to him?

“It would be a distraction. I should be focusing on my work and getting the job done as efficiently as possible. Romance and sex would get in the way of that. It’d prevent me from doing my job.”

“I understand. Except for one fucking thing—” He slowly inched toward her face.

“Which is?”

“You’re still here.”

She was. She was still there. For all she was saying, she was still sitting right next to him, thigh-to-thigh. She tried to convince herself that she was doing her very best to be detached and professional, yet, she stared at her lipstick smeared across his mouth, and his hair disheveled from her hands.

She leaned in and kissed him again. This time she gripped his hair twice as hard as before. She couldn't help herself. He was raw sex and power and blue eyes that seared to her bones. And even if he was a complete idiot when it came to managing his life, he had so much more hidden behind his eyes. She couldn’t go on telling herself he was nothing but an immature idiot. He was different than her. He had a few more layers to his identity than the average guy. And that difference, that mystery—it thrilled her.