Girl Behind the Scandalous Reputation (6 page)

Just imagine he’s a difficult director you have to put up with for a short while. You’ve done that before
.

She was trying to think of some way to regain her equilibrium when Tristan’s mobile rang and thankfully he picked it up. He didn’t even acknowledge her as he pushed away from
his desk and presented her with his back as he walked to stand in the vee of the floor to ceiling windows that partially lined two walls of his corner office.

Lily started reeling through every foul name she could think of to call him, and then her eyes wandered to the view outside his window. London only had a handful of luxury skyscrapers and Tristan owned one of them. It wasn’t the tallest, from what she could see, but it was certainly located on prime real estate near the heart of the city. Lily could see Big Ben, Westminster Abbey and the London Eye, and she hadn’t had to pay a penny for the privilege.

Without even being aware of it she shifted her gaze from outside the window to the man standing in front of it, legs apart and one hand in his trouser pocket, pulling the fabric of his trousers tight across his taut backside.

Her eyes drifted down over his long legs and up again to the wide sweep of his shoulders, to the ripple of muscle evident beneath his close-fitting shirt. He really was an impressive male and, given his sedentary job, he must work out all the time to stay as fit as he looked.

As if sensing her too-intimate regard, Tristan glanced over his shoulder and pierced her with his green eyes.

The air between them seemed to thicken. Lily’s breath caught and her body hummed with a vibrant awareness. Then a dismissive expression flitted across his face, and Lily released a long, steadying breath when he swung his gaze back to the window.

She heard him speaking rapidly to the caller about some EU presentation, effortlessly switching between English and a language she couldn’t place. His keen intelligence was evident in the incisive timbre of his voice.

Lily’s stomach growled, and she picked up a sandwich from the plate and forced herself to chew it. It was beyond her that she should feel such a strong physical reaction to someone who clearly couldn’t stand the sight of her. And it was getting a bit
hard to put it down to stress and anxiety. But surely the brain had some input when it came to sexual attraction?

Tristan ended his call, dropped the phone into his pocket and stalked to his desk, gripping the high back of his chair as he studied her with relentless intensity.

‘I must say you seem remarkably composed for a woman who’s potentially facing at least twenty years in the slammer,’ he scorned, leaving Lily stunned by his coldness when minutes earlier there had been such heat.

‘I trust the universe will work everything out.’ She said, wincing inwardly at her prim tone and refusing to react as he raised a condescending eyebrow.

‘The universe? As in the moon, the stars and Mother Earth?’

‘No.’ Lily tried not to roll her eyes. ‘At least not in the way you mean. The universe is like a forcefield—an energy that we create for ourselves and others. Sort of like if we all think positive thoughts then good will always prevail.’

Tristan cocked his head as if he was seriously considering her view, but of course that was a fool’s notion. ‘Well, I’d say your universe was either out for lunch when you tried walking through Customs today, or it’s working perfectly and you’re as guilty as hell.’

Lily folded her arms and bit into her top lip.

How was it possible for someone to be so devastatingly attractive one minute and so perversely irritating the next?

‘I also have great faith that the authorities know what they’re doing,’ she said waspishly.

‘The authorities want someone to put behind bars.’

Lily angled her chin. ‘Are you trying to frighten me?’

‘I’m not even sure the Grim Reaper knocking on your door could do that. Perhaps you’re not smart enough to see the danger.’

‘You’re very good with the lofty insults, Lord Garrett, but I believe that right
will
win out in the end.’

Tristan shook his head. ‘I’m sure if some of those corpses
buried at Tower Hill could speak they’d suggest that was a little whimsical.’

Lily was sure that if some of those corpses could talk they’d tell him they were relatives of hers—and not the blue-blooded ones!

‘Are you implying that I’m being unrealistic?’

‘Actually, I thought I was doing more than
implying
it.’

Lily sniffed. ‘I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand.’

‘Someone like me?’

‘Someone who thinks everything is either black or white. Someone who requires tangible proof before they’ll believe anything.’

‘It’s called dealing in the real world,’ he jibed.

‘But sometimes the real world isn’t always as it seems.’

Tristan made a scoffing sound. ‘I thought I told you I didn’t want to hear any of your protestations of innocence.’

Lily’s eyes narrowed at his bored tone, and she breathed in deeply through her nose.

Never let ‘em know you care, Honeybee
.

She exhaled slowly. This would all be a lot easier if he’d just talk to her, instead of snapping off pithy comments here and there.

‘And, as
pleasant
as this conversation is,’ he continued, ‘I have work to do. So I’d prefer you finish your tea and sandwiches over on the sofa.’ He sat down and turned to his computer, dismissing her like some servant girl.

Oh, she’d just bet he’d prefer that. And she would have happily done so if he’d been a little nicer, but now…

‘Actually, accusations and criticisms do not add up to a conversation. And would it really hurt you to be a little more civil?’ she demanded, throwing the whole idea of polite and aloof out of one of his ultra-clean windows.

‘To what end?’

He didn’t bother looking up from his computer screen and that incensed her. ‘To…to…I don’t know. Just to be
nice
.’

‘I don’t do nice.’

Lily nearly laughed.

As if she hadn’t worked that one out for herself! ‘You know, for someone whose job it is to communicate with others you’re not very good at it.’

That got his attention. ‘My job is about justice, not communication. And you better be careful because I’m really good at it.’

Lily shook her head. The man needed to learn some home truths. ‘You might be hot stuff in the courtroom, Lord Garrett, but personally you’re an avoider. You’d rather shut me up than try to have a constructive conversation with me.’

‘That’s because I don’t
want
to have a conversation with you—constructive or otherwise.’

Lily raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s a fine way to solve a problem.’

‘I don’t have…No—wait.’ He tapped his pen impatiently on his desk. ‘I
do
have a problem. She’s blonde, five-foot-ten and won’t stop jabbering on at me as if I care.’

Lily’s mouth gaped, and she stuck her tongue against the back of her front teeth to prevent herself from telling him just what she thought of his rude comments and hurtful attitude.

‘You really think you’ve got me all sussed out, don’t you, Tristan?’ Her voice was husky with raw emotion. ‘I’m just some no-good dumb celebrity who takes drugs and uses the casting couch to get her roles as far as you’re concerned.’

‘Well, not if you’re screwing the dolly boy. I can’t imagine
he
can win you too many roles.’ He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.

Arrogant jerk.

Lily narrowed her eyes and stabbed her finger in his direction. ‘You might have some two-bit report on your desk, but let me tell you—you know nothing about me. Absolutely nothing.’

‘I know all I need to know,’ he confirmed.

Lily shook her head. She was wasting her breath trying to
talk to him. He’d made up his mind about her a long time ago and there was nothing she could do to sway it. In fact, when the police found out who the real drug smuggler was he’d probably accuse her of sleeping with the whole police force to get the result.

She gave a slight shake of her head. When she’d left England six years ago she’d instigated a policy never to rise to people’s bad opinion of her again, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to help herself with Tristan. For some reason his condescending attitude hurt more than everybody else’s put together—and she hated that.

Lily folded her arms across her chest and decided to give up all attempts to change his opinion. Let him think what he wanted.

‘You know it’s a good thing you’re not my lawyer because I’d fire you.’

‘Fire me?’ He gave a harsh burst of laughter. ‘Sweetheart, I wouldn’t touch this case if it came gold-plated.’ He sat straighter and looked down his aristocratic nose at her. ‘Because I know what you are, Honey Blossom Lily Wild—or have you conveniently forgotten what happened at Jordana’s eighteenth?’

Lily stiffened at the ominously quiet question. Here was the basis of his true hatred of her. The presumed ruination of his little sister because of her association with big, bad Lily Wild. He’d judged her on circumstantial evidence at least twice before, and she hated that he had never once given her the benefit of the doubt.

‘You know—you know,’ she spat, ignoring the inner voice that told her to calm down. ‘I could make a movie about what you
don’t
know, you ignorant jerk, and it would be an instant classic.’

‘Ignorant jerk?’

That seemed to rile him, and it startled her when his chair shot back, nearly tipping over with the force of his movement. He circled his desk, a predatory intent in every silent step, and
Lily’s heart bumped behind her ribs. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, but still, the instinct to run was nearly overwhelming.

He stopped just in front of her, his hands balled on his hips, his green eyes ablaze with suppressed emotion.

‘Let’s see,’ he snarled, leaning over her and caging her in with his hands on the armrests of her chair. ‘You tried to hide a joint under my sister’s mattress when you were fourteen, you took her to sleazy parties in the city
—underage
—you caused an outrageous scandal the night of her eighteenth, snorting cocaine from the glass front of my father’s
seven-hundred-year-old
Giotto painting, and today you cart a truckload of charlie and disco biscuits into Heathrow.’ He leaned in closer. The pronounced muscles in his forearms bunched. ‘Tell me, Honey, how am I doing so far with what I
don’t
know about you?’

Lily felt the back of the chair hard against her spine and ran her tongue over her dry lips. She could explain every one of those things—but he wasn’t looking for an explanation, and frankly she was getting so sick of his rudeness she almost wanted him to dig a hole so she could bury him in it.

She remained tight-lipped, and his mocking expression said it all.

‘What? No comment all of a sudden? No further explanation as to why I walked into my father’s study and found a group of wasted idiots—my sister being one of them—and you leaning over the desk holding a rolled fifty-pound note, with some Armani-clad idiot standing behind you like he was getting ready to take you? What a surprise.’

Lily blushed profusely at his bluntness. That wasn’t how it had been at all—but had it really looked like that? And how could he think she’d even been interested in that guy after the kisses they had shared?

‘For heaven’s sake, why would I kiss you if I—? Oh.’ She stopped abruptly and nodded. ‘You think I just went from you to him. Hence the cheap slut reference.’ She shook her head as if she was truly stupid. ‘Sorry, I’m a slow learner. Maybe you
can add dumb blonde to my list of credentials? That’s if you haven’t done it already, of course.’

Tristan moved as quickly as a striking snake and reached down to pull her to her feet. ‘Stop. Trying. To. Garner. My. Sympathies. You took a chance. It didn’t come off. Now, deal with it.’

Lily tried to pull her hands free, and then stopped when she realised it was a futile waste of energy. Her eyes blazed into his. ‘I don’t know what ever made me think I could reason with you,’ she bit out, adrenaline coursing through her veins. ‘You know what? Go to hell. All you do is judge me and I’ve had it. You’ve never wanted the truth where I’m concerned and—oof!’

The air left her body as Tristan pulled her hard up against him and covered her mouth with his own. She tasted anger and frustration—and something else. Something that called to her. Something that left her mind reeling. After a token struggle she felt her resistance ebb away. Her brain simply shut down, leaving her body and her heart firmly in charge, and both, it seemed, craved his touch more than air.

Tristan knew it was a mistake as soon as he did it—but, seriously, just how much self-control did she think he possessed? Did she never give up? Standing there, glorious in her anger, her eyes sparkling like cabochon amethysts.

She shoved against him and tried to twist her mouth away, but Tristan wound her ponytail around his fist and held her head fast. Some distant part of his brain tried reminding him that he didn’t behave like this. That he didn’t shut women up with his mouth like some Neolithic cave dweller.

But it was too late. He’d been hungry for the taste of her all day, and something far more primitive than logic and civility was riding him now.

She moaned, her hands pushing against his shoulders, and he immediately gentled the pressure of his mouth. A voice in his head was telling him to stop. That now he was behaving
like a jerk. That he hated this woman whose mouth felt like hot velvet under his.

She represented everything wrong with mankind. She took drugs, she partied hard, she was self-centered, self-absorbed—like his mother. Just when he might have had a chance of pulling away her fingernails curled into his shoulders, no longer pushing him away but drawing him closer, and he was lost.

He eased the hand in her hair and pressed his other one to her lower back, to bring her into firmer contact with his body, and delighted in her responsive quiver.

Right now he didn’t give a damn about parties and drugs. Right now he was satisfying an urge that had started six years ago and got a whole lot worse today. He felt a groan rise up from his chest as her lips moved almost shyly beneath his. He wanted her. Hell, his body was aching with it. And he knew by the way her fingers clutched at his shirt that she felt the feral chemistry between them as intensely as he did.