Lessons in Rule-Breaking. Christy McKellen

chandelier, this time made from hundreds of pieces of blown glass in the shape of a flock of birds, let out a warm, low light over the room.

      ‘Wow, the light fixtures here are amazing,’ Jess said, staring at it in wonder.

      ‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Xander said, stopping next to her to admire it, too. ‘Roberto, who owns this place, made it. He’s sickeningly talented.’

      He was standing so close to her she caught another waft of his amazing citrusy scent, which sent an energised prickle right up her spine.

      ‘How lovely of him to let you use his place,’ she said, taking a careful step into the room, away from him.

      ‘Yeah, he’s a really generous guy. We worked on a couple of projects together a few years back, before we both started getting successful. He lets friends come and stay here when they need to escape for a bit.’

      ‘So you’re escaping right now?’ she asked, turning back to look at him.

      His expression closed over. ‘I need a bit of space to concentrate on a new exhibition, away from the din of the city.’

      ‘And away from the temptation of all those parties?’ she said, raising a playful eyebrow, hoping he’d bite and give her a bit of gossipy goodness that she could incorporate into her article.

      ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure I can find a party round here if I really want to,’ he said, moving his shoulder in a circular motion as if trying to relieve a trapped nerve.

      ‘Have you hurt your shoulder?’ she asked.

      ‘Nah, I’m just a bit tense from being bent over drawing today. Why, are you offering to rub it for me?’ He flipped her a provocative grin.

      ‘You don’t want me giving you a massage—I’m terrible at it,’ she said, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear, then flipping it back out again so it swung back to join the rest of her bob. She had a horrible urge to hide her face from him. He was so confusing with his ability to flip the conversation from something innocuous into something that made her jitter with barely contained anxiety.

      He gave her a questioning frown. ‘I don’t believe it. How can you be terrible at massaging?’

      She shrugged. ‘It’s just not something I count as one of my talents.’

      ‘Hmm.’ He was looking at her with such an intense, searching stare it made her insides twist.

      She wasn’t used to dealing with such overt flirtatiousness. The men she’d dated in the past had been attractive guys, but nothing like the unwieldy package of sexual energy that Xander Heaton embodied. He was something else entirely.

      Walking past her, he pulled out a chair from the table and gestured for her to sit down.

      She nodded her thanks and perched herself on the edge of the leather-upholstered chair, folding her hands on the tabletop and kicking off her shoes so she could flex her aching feet under the table. She watched as he pulled out the seat opposite and dropped into it with a sigh.