CHAPTER TWO
TWENTY minutes later the plane touched down in Singapore and Sienna preceeded Lex along narrow nondescript corridors towards the transit lounge. She felt a lot better now that they were off the plane—more in control of herself and her surroundings. Far more inclined to think that her and Lex’s sensually loaded altercation had been nothing more than edginess and boredom on his part and a never-to-be repeated moment of insanity on hers.
Sienna’s internal clock told her it was long past her bedtime, but the arrival and departure boards inside the terminal said it was six p.m. and the light outside the windows confirmed it. She was tired, she realised belatedly. Add that to the list of reasons for her strange reaction to Lex. She added it to his side of the equation too. The hours he’d worked during these last few days leading up to the trip had been phenomenal. And there hadn’t been a beautiful companion in sight. Not for months, according to her godmother, Adriana, who also happened to be Lex’s mother. Sienna added ‘overdue’to Lex’s list of reasons for uncharacteristic behaviour. Wonderful things, lists.
The standard array of shops graced the terminal corridors. Coffee bar, newsagent, chain-store music and books, lotions, potions, and soap… Wait! Soap. Gorgeously scented luxury soap. To use in the shower… Sienna stopped abruptly and Lex all but crashed into her in the process.
‘What did you forget?’ he said.
‘Nothing.’ He of little faith. ‘I just want some soap.’
‘I already have soap.’
‘Why is it always about you?’
‘It just…usually is.’
‘Well, not this time.’ Honestly, the man had been thoroughly indulged for far too long. ‘The soap is for me.’
‘My mistake.’ Lex wandered over to the nearest display. ‘What kind of soap do you want?’
‘I’ll know it when I smell it,’ she said.
‘I see.’ His expression said he didn’t understand the delights of scented-soap shopping at all. ‘What say we forgo your PA training for the next couple of hours and I meet you back on the plane?’ But the ancient Asian saleswoman had already made her move.
‘Come. Come,’ she said, waving them into the shop proper. ‘It is good for the man to choose the soap for the woman. Choose now, benefit later, no?’
‘No,’ said Sienna, but the saleswoman ignored her.
‘This one,’ she said, and handed Lex a block of soap. ‘Ylang ylang and lemongrass. Smell good, no?’
Lex sniffed. Considered. Decided. And all without giving Sienna a second glance. ‘No,’ he said as he handed the soap back to the woman. ‘She’s more of a rosehip kind of girl.’
‘I am not!’ said Sienna.
‘Rosehip and vanilla?’ said the saleswoman, picking up another block of soap and offering it to him. ‘This one you like?’
‘Hello,’ said Sienna. ‘Over here.’
‘Got anything with ginger in it?’ said Lex.
‘Sandalwood and ginger,’ said the woman and passed that one to him as well. ‘Also matching body lotion, hand cream, and shampoo.’
‘Sold,’ said Lex and produced a wallet from his trouser pocket. ‘Don’t bother wrapping it.’
‘How sweet,’ murmured Sienna. ‘You think we’re done here.’
‘We are done here.’ He strode towards the register. ‘You wanted soap. You got soap. And moisturiser, and shampoo. What more could you possibly need?’
This wasn’t about need. It was about shopping. Possibly about revenge. ‘There’s a men’s range.’
‘No,’ he said hastily.
‘Oh, yes.’ Sienna studied him serenely. If he thought he could treat her like a charity case and pick up the tab for her expenses he was mistaken. She wasn’t on the poverty line yet. She could still afford soap.
The saleswoman studied him too. ‘So much hurry,’ she said. ‘Does he have airplane to catch?’
‘He just got off one.’ Lex opened his mouth to speak. ‘He’s about to tell you he already has soap,’ Sienna murmured. ‘Anyone would think he’s not a patient man.’
‘A man with no patience is like an ocean without fish,’ said the woman, and continued to study Lex. ‘Why even cast the net?’
‘I have fish,’ said Lex indignantly. ‘I have plenty of fish.’
‘Of course you do.’ Sienna couldn’t quite hide her smirk. Who’d have thought there’d be such joy to be had in a transit terminal soap shop?
‘Allspice and lemon thyme?’ offered the saleswoman.
Close. There was no denying the man’s edibility, although she fully intended to. ‘I’m thinking cinnamon.’
‘Cinnamon and orange,’ said the woman, picking up a nearby block of soap and handing it to her. ‘Good choice.’
Sienna took it. Sniffed it. ‘I don’t know… I’m not sure…’ And with devilry in mind she said, ‘He may need to try it on.’
‘How—?’ he began, and then spied the basin and tap. ‘No.’
Oh, yes. ‘I’d hate to choose wrong. Imagine if the aroma didn’t complement your manly essence?’
‘Sienna, it’s soap.’
‘How little you know,’ she said and reached for his arm, pushing his jacket sleeve up to his elbow before taking his wrist and turning it to expose the inside of his forearm. ‘Think of the fish.’
The saleswoman slapped a damp cloth on his skin and deftly wet him from elbow to wrist. ‘The soap will slide,’ she said.
The soap did slide. And somewhere between elbow and wrist Sienna lost the upper hand and Lex found it.
‘Now you rub with your hands,’ the saleswoman told her. ‘I take the soap.’
Lex’s mouth curved lazily and his eyes gleamed. ‘I like a firm touch,’ he murmured.
He got one and winced, doubtless from pleasure.
‘She’s so obliging,’ he told the saleswoman. ‘Really. Ouch!’
‘A woman without spirit is like a sky with no clouds,’ said the woman.
‘Perfect?’ said Lex.
‘No. Such a sky will never quench your thirst.’
‘Isn’t that what bottled water’s for?’ said Lex, and winced some more as Sienna’s thumb accidentally encountered another soft spot. ‘Easy, sweetheart. You’re bruising the goods.’
‘Sorry.’ Sienna trailed her fingernails lightly down his arm, leaving a row of wavy snakelike tracks in the lather. Lex shuddered ever so slightly and his eyes flashed a heated warning.
‘Keep it up, Sienna, and you will be.’
Oh, dear. There it was again—exhilaration, illumination, and a powerful curiosity about what Lex might bring to a sexual relationship—all of it coalescing into a tight ball of sensation deep in the pit of her stomach. Sienna moved to the sink, washed the soap from her hands and stood back to let Lex wash his arm, acutely aware that lathering him in cinnamon soap hadn’t been one of her better ideas.
She wasn’t six any more; Lex wasn’t her indulgent older playmate.
She wasn’t a skinny, smart-mouthed fifteen-year-old any more either; Lex wasn’t her confidante and protector.
Lex dried his hands and arms with a paper towel and turned towards her, every movement a subtle challenge, and Sienna realised with blinding clarity that those days were over.
He put his forearm to his nose, took a whiff, shrugged, and held his arm up towards her, those knowing grey eyes daring her to play out the scene to completion. Maybe she ought to add ‘too easily led’ to her side of the equation, she thought wryly, because she knew instinctively that breathing him in was going to cost her control she could ill afford to lose. But she closed her eyes and breathed deeply anyway.
The aroma of cinnamon came first, then citrus, then Lex. The ache in her stomach pulled tighter.
‘How does it combine with my manly essence?’ he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sounded like sin and burned like the devil.
‘Quite well,’ she whimpered, her eyes still tightly closed.
‘I was aiming a little higher than quite well.’ Had he moved closer? Was it his body that was on fire or was it hers? Because something here was burning, nothing surer. Something brushed her ear and she shivered hard. His hair, she thought at first. No, maybe his cheek. His lips… ‘Maybe we should try a different soap on the other arm,’ he whispered.
Sienna stumbled back a step and opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. There it was again: The Look. And Lex didn’t look tired or edgy or in any way bored. He looked focussed and sexy as hell and the reckless hunger in his eyes called to needs she’d never known she had. ‘No need to try another one on,’ she said, adding a weak smile for good measure. ‘This one combines very well.’
‘I appreciate the adverbial upgrade,’ he countered with a lazy grin. ‘But the fact remains that the basic assessment is mediocre. Are you sure you don’t want to make me try on another one?’
‘It lifts your manly essence into the realms of the sublime,’ she practically yelled. ‘I am trembling with lust.’
‘I think she likes it,’ Lex told the lady. ‘I’ll take a month’s worth.’
Sienna fled Lex’s company after that and Lex let her. The scent of cinnamon and orange soap and Lex the marauder stayed in her mind and on her hands until there was nothing for it but to shower it off, wash it straight down the drain, and replace it with plain old airport hotel soap and shampoo, never mind the gorgeous goodies from the soap shop burning a hole in her handbag. Even then her mind strayed as she lathered up and scrubbed hard. She imagined a man’s hands on her, but not just any man’s hands. These were knowing hands, demanding hands.
Lex’s hands.
‘Why me?’ she whimpered. Why Lex? ‘Why now?’
Oh, there’d been that time on her eighteenth birthday when Lex had commandeered her for a slow dance at the end of the evening and she’d been a mass of nerves for fear he was planning to kiss her, but that had been years ago. Besides, he hadn’t. Not on the lips. He’d kissed her temple instead, told her to watch out for Bobby Carmichael’s wandering hands, and left with the beautiful blonde events manager that Adriana had hired to oversee the evening.
The beautiful blonde hadn’t lasted a week.
Neither had Bobby Carmichael.
Then there’d been that time when Lex had turned up at her flat one morning and the very sweet Aidan Russell had chosen that particular moment to wander out of her bedroom. Lex hadn’t liked coming face to face with Sienna’s love life, never mind that his own had spanned three continents by then, the ice in his eyes could have frozen the Thames. After about two minutes of stilted conversation, including introductions, Aidan had become visibly nervous.
Aidan hadn’t lasted long either.
How many years ago was that? Two? Three? There’d been no one for Sienna since then. Sighing, Sienna added ‘long overdue’ to her list of reasons for her sudden uncomfortable awareness of Lex’s manly attractions and tilted her face beneath the spray. Moments later visions of Lex in the shower with her—with his hands on her—began to assail her. She turned the cold tap on full and concentrated on getting clean rather than aroused, but occasionally an image stuck and when it did it ripped into her with cyclone force. Her body bowed and her skin ached for a lover’s touch.
A lover’s touch, she told herself fiercely. Not Lex’s touch.
Any lover would do. There was such a thing as taking the edge off.
And then her relationship with Lex would be the same as it always had been. Sacrosanct.
Sienna emerged from the shower feeling suitably clean but in no way relaxed. The thought of Lex showering with his soap and Sienna having to sit next to him on the plane for another eight hours, breathing him in, wasn’t a reassuring one to a woman whose body ached for fulfilment and whose mind had remained back in London. If he turned that lazy charm on her again, heaven forbid if he touched her, she was likely to implode. Lex would probably find it amusing. Sienna didn’t find the notion amusing at all.
Think, Sienna, think. She’d known this man for most of her life. She knew his strengths and all his flaws. She knew full well that he was only amusing himself with her on account of a distinct lack of anything else amusing at hand. The obvious solution, therefore, was to find something else for him to focus on.
She hit the shops again and bought him a book. An adventure story with ticking bombs and many villains. That’d doubtless keep him occupied for, oh…five minutes. She bought him a book of mastermind sudoku puzzles. That’d hold him for longer. What else? A major crisis of confidence on Wall Street would be good. She skimmed the newspapers for just such an occurrence, but it wasn’t to be. What else would a good PA collect for her boss before getting back on that plane?
Probably her composure.
Definitely her wits.
Her resolve to not become romantically involved with old friends, new bosses, or millionaire playboys for whom romance was just a diversion. Which pretty much ruled Lex out on all counts.
The final boarding call came about far too quickly and Sienna stepped gingerly back inside the plane, armed to the teeth with distractions, only to find Lex already seated, with his computer open on his lap. His gaze was penetrating but his smile was the one from their childhood as she tucked her purchases into the webbing of the seat in front of her and her carry bag into the locker above. She settled into her seat and took a tentative breath. No cinnamon or orange. Lex had showered—his hair was still damp—but not with his new soap.
Hallelujah.
Lex shut down his laptop for take-off, his impatience a tangible force, those long, lean fingers drumming rhythmically on the slim machine, his gaze distracted and far away.
‘Something I should know about?’ she queried, feeling ever so slightly guilty that she hadn’t stuck with him during the stopover.
‘The breakdown of the Scorcellini assets has come in,’ said Lex. ‘They’re in surprisingly good shape for a company going under.’
‘Is this a good thing?’
‘It is for them. Means their chances of attracting a rescue bid are higher than I thought.’
‘So where does that leave your bid?’
‘In need of readjustment.’ He shot her a glance. ‘You’re not going to suggest that I rescue them?’
‘No. I have a new approach when it comes to dealings of a financial nature. I won’t criticise your decisions.’
‘I like it,’ he said.
‘And you don’t criticise mine.’
‘You had to go and spoil it.’
‘Do we have a deal?’
‘No.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Criticise away. I may not always like or agree with what you have to say, Sienna, but I still want to hear it.’
Sienna sighed heavily. Now he was being charming. ‘Would you want to hear the opinions of a PA you hadn’t known since childhood?’
‘Probably not. But, then, you’re not a regular employee, are you? Which means some of the regular rules simply don’t apply. I can give you the workload a PA would get from me. I can show you how to do it. But don’t ask me to treat you like a proper PA this coming month because I can’t.’
‘You could try.’
‘And I’d fail. I don’t look to you for instant obedience, Sienna. I look to you for truth.’
Sienna went all marshmallow-soft inside; she couldn’t help it.
The seat-belt lights went off. Lex opened his laptop and started opening files. ‘And trouble,’ he muttered. ‘Trust me, Sienna, you bring that to the table too.’
At five fifty-five a. m., local time, Sienna and Lex stepped off the plane, collected their luggage, cleared customs, and stepped into the arrivals area. Sienna had never been to Australia before. The dress code of the people waiting for passengers seemed far more informal than that of the people at Heathrow. People smiled more and walked slower, the air was warmer and the general vibe felt a whole lot more relaxed.
Or maybe she only thought it felt more relaxed because she was so glad to finally get off that plane. Lex had focussed on his work for most of the Singapore-Sydney leg of the trip, stopping only for meal breaks. There had been no awkward moments of heart-stopping sexual tension, nothing out of the ordinary at all, not on Lex’s part at any rate. But Sienna still hadn’t quite been able to relax in his company. Not until they’d left the plane behind.
‘The trick to jet lag and adjusting quickly to the new time zone is to stay awake for the rest of the day, local time, and crawl into bed around midnight,’ Lex told Sienna as he collected both his suitcases and hers.
‘Uh-huh,’ Sienna replied with increasing good humour as they strode through the glass doors and out onto the Sydney pavement. Fresh air, heavily laden with exhaust fumes and the promise of a hot summer’s day, greeted her. ‘It sounds perfectly sensible in theory, don’t get me wrong. Remind me again when I fall asleep in my soup at lunchtime. How far is it to your place from here, again?’
‘Half an hour.’ Lex steered the bags towards a waiting limousine, gave the driver the address and opened the back door for Sienna to get in. ‘Watson’s Bay lies just inside the southern entrance to Sydney Harbour. The land there tapers off to a point, with one side facing the bay and the other side facing the ocean. It’s a nice spot. You’ll like it,’ he told her with a boyish smile that told of his enthusiasm for his latest cubbyhole. He’d always had dozens of special places tucked away in the grounds of his family’s estate as a child. Sienna had delighted in seeking them out during her visits, and Lex had always shared them with her with good grace and enthusiasm, just as he was doing now. It had taken her years before she’d realised that Lex was a whole lot more careful about sharing himself with anyone else. He’d grown up wary of reporters and social climbers; people who saw the money and the position in society rather than the man, never mind that the man himself was spectacular.
If she could just think of this Sydney home as Lex’s latest cubby rather than the abode of a man who could damage her calm with nothing more than a single heated glance, they would get along just fine. ‘And the house?’ she questioned. ‘The hub? Which side is it on?’
‘The bay side. I needed somewhere to put the yacht.’
‘Of course,’ she said dryly. ‘The yacht.’
‘There’s a housekeeper too. His name’s Rudy. He used to be a Navy frigate midshipman. He likes things tidy. Cooks extremely tasty French frou-frou food but you might want to stay out of his kitchen. He’s territorial.’
‘Pity. I like kitchens.’ Kitchens had been her refuge as a child, especially when her parents had been mid-argument, which had been most of the time. She tended to gravitate towards them, even as an adult. A boiling kettle and the fixings for a cup of tea provided comfort and warmth on too many levels to count.
Lex sent her a sharp glance but stayed silent.
‘Is the presence of Rudy the former frigate midshipman supposed to be reassuring when it comes to the thought of sharing a house with you for a month?’ she said next.
‘I figured it would be,’ he said mildly.
‘What if he wants to entertain?’
‘Don’t dwell on it. I never do. Rudy lives in the apartment over the garage. What he does there is his business.’ And at her raised eyebrow he added, ‘All I’m saying is that we’re not going to be entirely alone in the house, that’s all. You might want to factor that into your decision-making process.’
‘Thanks. I will.’ Sienna chewed pensively on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to be contrary or difficult. She just wanted the month to go as smoothly as possible. ‘In the interests of exploring all options, have you any idea how expensive the rents nearby would be?’
‘Expensive,’ he said. ‘Watson’s Bay isn’t a budget area, Sienna.’
‘What about housing a little further away?’
‘Then the commute will be longer.’
‘It’s called compromise.’
‘I know what compromise is,’ he said curtly. ‘The business world is full of it. What I don’t understand is why you feel the need to make such a compromise.’
‘So I’m frugal,’ she said lightly. ‘Not all of us have deep pockets, Lex. You know I’m not in your league.’
‘I also know that parting with a month’s worth of high-end rent—unnecessary as it would be—shouldn’t really bother you.’ Lex’s gaze had sharpened; his interest had been piqued. ‘Sienna, are you in financial trouble? Is that why the sudden push to become a PA?’
‘No! And no. Of course not.’ She sent him a bright smile, but she couldn’t hold his gaze. She opted instead for staring out the window at Sydney’s suburbia. Subterfuge never had been her strong point. She didn’t have to see Lex’s diamond hard gaze to know that it was boring into her. She could feel it. ‘There simply aren’t that many advancement opportunities for art curators at the moment, that’s all. I figure if I can combine business skills with my knowledge of the art world I might be able to pick up a PA position with a collector or gallery owner. Broaden my horizons.’ Find some missing paintings… ‘I will confess that a bigger pay cheque would also be most welcome.’
‘So you do need money,’ he said next. ‘I knew it. I knew there was something to all of this that you weren’t telling me. How much?’
‘I said my money situation was fine. Just fine.’
‘I swear you’re the worst liar I know,’ he muttered, and lapsed into a brooding, simmering silence. Lex didn’t know the true extent of her woeful financial circumstances, none of the Wentworth family did, and Sienna took great pains to keep it that way. They’d given her refuge and protection as a child and friendship and family closeness as she’d grown older, but there were some things that Sienna didn’t share with anyone. The small matter of her rapidly dwindling financial resources was one of them.
‘What does it cost you to maintain that ridiculous mausoleum your mother left you?’ demanded Lex suddenly. He didn’t wait for an answer, he saw it in the dismayed glance she sent him because he cursed and his expression turned even grimmer. ‘If it’s draining you of every cent you have, sell it. Realise some profit or cut your losses, but get rid of it.’
‘No.’ There was no defending her emotional attachment to the old summer house set high on the cliffs of southern Cornwall. She didn’t even try. ‘Are we done with the commerce lecture yet?’
‘You are impossible to help,’ he said from between gritted teeth. ‘Why can’t you just tell me what you need like any normal person?’
‘I have!’ Sienna glanced over at him again, nothing more than a fleeting stab of desperation and pain, but it might as well have been a sword because it certainly made Lex bleed. ‘I need to learn how to be a good personal assistant and you’re going to teach me. That’s all I want from you. That’s all I need. Don’t value add.’
‘Dammit, Sienna!’ Didn’t she understand yet that that was what he did? ‘I’m asking you one simple question. How much money do you need?’
‘You don’t understand,’ she said quietly.
‘ThehellIdon’t!’ Lex turned to stare out the window at the passing suburbs, cursing Sienna’s long-dead mother for willing her a keepsake she couldn’t keep, cursing himself for not figuring it out sooner. He knew Sienna was touchy when it came to money, knew he shouldn’t have pushed her for answers she wasn’t prepared to give, but, dammit, why couldn’t she just confide in him the way she used to?
It wasn’t until the limousine pulled into the circular driveway and stopped at the entrance to his sprawling luxury mansion that Lex made a determined effort to shake his black mood and play the host. He didn’t bother pointing out again that it would be far cheaper for Sienna to live here with him than find somewhere else to stay. She knew that already.
The front door opened and Lex felt his lips curve ever so slightly as the dour and imposing Rudy stepped out. Rudy was doing his bodyguard-butler impersonation today—black trousers, a black T-shirt that strained across his massive torso, black wrap-around sunglasses, and an almighty scowl.
Sienna had seen him too. ‘Rudy the territorial?’ she queried with a glance that held equal parts wariness and apology.
‘Yes.’
‘You didn’t tell me he looked like Steven Seagal.’
‘That’s because he doesn’t.’
‘Does he talk like Steven Seagal too?’
‘Steven Seagal doesn’t talk,’ said Lex. ‘His skills lie elsewhere. Come to think of it, Rudy doesn’t talk either, unless he has to.’
‘I swear you make some of the strangest decisions when it comes to choosing hired help,’ she said.
‘So I’m noticing,’ he said and stifled a smile as her chin rose defiantly and those remarkable eyes narrowed in silent warning. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you.’
Rudy nodded curtly in greeting as they got out of the car, then he headed for their luggage. Sienna followed.
‘Sienna, this is Rudy. Rudy, this is Sienna Raleigh, my new PA. Sienna’s a little different from my old PAs. She’s practically family.’
Rudy’s sunglasses zoned in on Sienna first and then Lex. What he thought was anyone’s guess. The limo driver began unloading bags from the boot and setting them on the steps. Rudy joined in. Sienna went to retrieve the smaller of her two suitcases only to have Rudy swipe it at the last minute and set it firmly behind him. ‘What’s she doing?’ he asked Lex gruffly.
‘Hard to say,’ said Lex. ‘Sometimes she goes looking for an argument.’
‘She picks up that suitcase and she’ll get one,’ muttered Rudy. ‘Inside. Now. There’s iced tea, chicken and cucumber sandwiches, and crème brûlée waiting for you in the west-wing drawing room.’ The sunglasses zeroed in on Sienna again. ‘You eat the crème brûlée last.’
‘I knew that,’ she said loftily.
‘Family, you said,’ said Rudy darkly.
‘I’ve known her since she was five,’ said Lex.
‘Six,’ said Sienna.
‘And you employed her.’
‘Believe me, point taken.’
Sienna stared from Lex to Rudy in indignation. ‘What is this? Some kind of boys’ own shorthand?’
‘Did I mention the handmade French chocolates?’ said Rudy pointedly.
‘Nice try,’ she said. ‘But I’m more of an ice-cream person. Now if you’d said you had handmade triple-cream French Vanilla ice cream waiting for me in the west-wing drawing room I’d be there already.’
‘There’s one in every family,’ muttered Rudy.
‘I know,’ said Sienna agreeably. ‘Annoying, isn’t it?’ She looked up at the house, her expression faintly wistful. ‘Thing is, Rudy, I’m not family and I may not be staying here so could you leave my bags by the door?’
Rudy ignored Sienna and looked to Lex. ‘She’s not staying?’ he queried ominously. ‘I’ve laid in provisions for two.’
‘Family spat,’ said Lex. ‘I’ll handle it.’
Rudy glanced towards Sienna, who’d abandoned the conversation in favour of making her way towards the front door. ‘Does she sail?’
‘Like a champion.’ Lex had seen to that part of her education himself.
‘Her bags will be in her room,’ said Rudy. ‘I hate clutter at the front door.’
‘Don’t mind me,’ called Sienna. ‘I’m moving through the front door and into the beyond. No clutter here. Come to mention it, there’s nothing here but space and sunshine. What happened to all the furniture? Where’s the umbrella stand? The sideboard and the vase full of flowers?’
‘It’s all right,’ said Lex reassuringly. ‘She’s not serious.’
‘You need sleep,’ muttered Rudy. ‘You’re becoming delusional.’
This was a distinct possibility. He’d packed too much work and far too much wanting of Sienna into this day already. It was time to set things back on track.
He caught up with Sienna in the atrium, just inside the doorway looking curious and tentative all at once. ‘What do you think of it?’ he asked her casually, trying hard to pretend that it didn’t matter what she thought. The house was a modern-day masterpiece, all sleek lines and open spaces. Lex hadn’t designed it, the previous owners had, but it suited him well and Rudy kept it immaculate. Sienna would like it, he knew she would. She just had to give it a chance.
‘It’s lovely. Very private. Bigger than I expected.’
‘I told you there was plenty of room. South wing’s yours,’ he said and, heading left, proceeded to show her the guest wing, complete with luxury spa, sitting room, breakfast nook, and four bedrooms. ‘Take your pick,’ he said. ‘It’s all guest accommodation.’
He led her downstairs next, to the pool area and gym, tennis court, boat shed, boat ramp, and dock.
‘Yours?’ she said, glancing towards the yacht moored at the end of the dock, and Lex nodded.
‘Sienna meet Mercy Jane. There’s also a speedboat called Angelina in the boat shed for getting places in a hurry,’ he told her. ‘Rudy maintains both boats and, when I say maintain, I mean he’s fanatical about their function and their finish.’
‘So…no getting to know the girls,’ she said.
‘Wrong. Befriend the girls by all means. Just cut your nails, take all your jewellery off first and don’t lead them astray. Should you want to go somewhere and should Rudy decide that you’re suitably attired, he’ll have the speedboat in the water before you can say wouldn’t it be easier to take the Porsche.’
‘How protective is Rudy of the Porsche?’
‘You can have a set of keys to the Porsche,’ he told her with a grin. ‘Rudy doesn’t give a fig about the Porsche.’
He took her back upstairs and showed her the middle section of the house next, otherwise known as the west wing. ‘Kitchen,’ he said, and opened the door onto a spotless stainless-steel wonder. ‘Library,’ he said next, and showed her a room containing dark leather lounges, the odd desk or four, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases covering three walls. ‘The billiards room,’ he said, opening another door and affording Sienna a brief glance of yet another manly entertainment area.
‘Is Rudy precious about his felt?’ she asked him sweetly.
‘You have no idea.’ He ushered her through to the formal dining area with its floor-to-ceiling windows and multimillion dollar view of the harbour, the bridge, and the skyscrapers of the city proper. Adjacent to that was the west-wing drawing room where Rudy had set out the food. This room had been furnished with comfort in mind rather than to impress, even though it boasted floor-to-ceiling windows and that panoramic harbour view. There was more in it, for starters. Deep, comfortable chairs, a settee for lounging on, footrests and reading lamps, table and chairs for two, a couple of sideboards…