The Tycoon's Ultimate Conquest. Cathy WilliamsЧитать онлайн книгу.
similarly private about his life, he had to concede some reluctant admiration for her stance.
‘No extended family?’
‘Why the Spanish Inquisition?’ She glanced across at him. ‘What about you? Brothers? Sisters? Cousins? Will some of your extended family be showing up here to support us?’
‘You’re very prickly.’
‘I...don’t mean to be, Mr Frank.’
‘I think we should move onto a first name basis. That okay with you? My name’s Arturo. Arthur if you prefer the English equivalent.’ Which was as close to the truth as it was possible to get, as was the surname, which hadn’t been plucked from thin air but which was, in fact, his mother’s maiden name.
‘Rose.’
‘And you were telling me that you weren’t prickly...’
* * *
‘I’m afraid the whole business of an extended family is something of a sore point with me.’ She half smiled because her history was no deep, dark secret, at least locally. If Arthur, or Arturo because he looked a lot more like an exotic Arturo than a boring Arthur, ended up here for the long haul, then sooner or later he would hear the gossip. The truth was that her background had made her what she was, for which she was very glad, but it wasn’t exactly normal and for some reason explaining herself to this man felt...awkward and a little intimate.
Aside from that, what was with the questioning? Shouldn’t he be asking questions about the land instead of about her?
On a number of levels he certainly didn’t respond in the predicted manner and again Rose felt that shiver, the faintly thrilling feathery sensation of being in slightly unchartered territory.
‘You asked about me,’ he said smoothly, filling the silence which had descended between them, ‘and extended family is a sore point for me, as well. I have none.’
‘No?’ They had arrived at the protest site but Rose found that she wanted to prolong the conversation.
‘Do you feel sorry for me?’ Arturo grinned and Rose blinked, disconcerted by the stupendous charm behind that crooked smile. She felt it again, a whoosh that swept through her, making her breath quicken and her stomach swoop.
‘Should I? You don’t strike me as the sort of guy someone should be feeling sorry for. How is it that you have no extended family?’
‘First, I’ll take it as a compliment that you think I’m the kind of dominant guy people should fear, respect and admire instead of pity...’
‘Did I say that?’ But her mouth twitched with amusement.
‘And, second, I’ll tell you if you tell me. We can hold hands and have a girly evening sharing confidences...join me for dinner later. I’d love to get to know you better.’
Hot, flustered and suddenly out of her depth, Rose gaped at him like a stranded fish, scarcely believing her ears. She reddened, lost for words.
‘Is it a promising start that I’m taking your breath away?’ Arturo drawled, his voice rich with amusement.
‘No... I... You’re asking me on a date?’
‘You sound as though it’s something that’s never happened to you before.’
‘I...no... I’m very sorry, Mr Frank, but I...no. I can’t accept. But thank you very much. I’m flattered.’
‘Arturo.’ He frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Because...’ Rose smoothed her wayward hair with her hand and stared off into the distance, all the while acutely aware of his dark, sexy eyes on her profile, making a nonsense of her level head and feet-firmly-planted-on-the-ground approach to life. She was no frothy, giggly bit of fluff but he was making her feel a bit like that and anyone would think that she was a giddy virgin in the company of a prince!
‘Because...?’
‘Well, it’s not appropriate.’
‘Why not? I may be about to join your cause, but you’re not my boss so no conflict of interest there.’
‘I...’ Rose licked her lips and eventually looked at him, leaning against the open window. ‘I...’
‘You’re not married. You’re not wearing a wedding ring.’
‘Observant. That’s hardly the point, though.’
‘Boyfriend?’
‘No...not that it’s any of your business, Mr Frank. Arthur. Arturo. Do you usually ask women you’ve only known for five seconds out on a date?’
‘How else am I supposed to get to know them for longer than five seconds if I don’t? So you’re not married, no boyfriend...gay?’
‘No!’
Arturo grinned and Rose was certain she was blushing furiously, her reddened cheeks thoroughly letting the side down. ‘Then where’s the problem?’
‘You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?’ Rose gathered herself and opened her door. It was very hot. A blazing summer afternoon, with the sun still high in the sky and the clouds little more than cotton wool puffs of white idly floating by. The land looked glorious and untouched. It was a short walk to get to the site where the protestors had set up camp. Yes, she could have driven there, but it was easier to park here and a nice day for walking. Except now she would be walking in a state of nervous tension.
‘Is that a crime?’ Arturo had followed her out and he looked at her, still grinning.
‘I’ve never been attracted to men who are too sure of themselves.’
‘Challenging observation...’
‘That’s not my intention! You’re here to...support us! And I won’t be going out with you because... I’m not interested in any sort of relationship at this point in time.’
‘Who’s talking about a relationship?’
‘I don’t do casual sex.’ Rose was staggered that she was having this conversation, but she had yet to meet a man who was open about what he wanted and surely he couldn’t want her because, rich or poor, he had the sort of charisma and good looks that would guarantee him a spot in any woman’s little black book.
So why her?
But heck, was she flattered? It had been a while since her last disastrous relationship, a while since she had felt like a woman. And, if she was honest, even Jack, earnest and brimming over with admirable integrity, hadn’t made her feel like this.
‘I thought I just mentioned having dinner,’ Arturo murmured, which made Rose feel her cheeks flush what was surely an even deeper shade of red.
‘You’re playing with me,’ she said sharply. ‘And I don’t like it.’
Their eyes tangled but Rose refused to be the first to back down even though she wanted to.
* * *
Art was learning what it felt like to be politely but firmly pushed to the kerb.
‘Tell me about the protest,’ he encouraged, changing tack, matching her gait with his and releasing her from the stranglehold of her embarrassment as they continued to walk towards the distant horizon. ‘How many people are there at the site?’
‘Ever been on a protest before?’
‘I can honestly say that I haven’t.’
‘Well, I’m glad that this is of sufficient interest to you to get you motivated into doing more than just sitting on the sidelines and sympathising. So many people have strong views about something and yet they never quite go the distance when it comes to doing something about those views.’
‘What made you choose