The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection. Kelly Hunter

had time to think beyond the fact that she’d agreed to it. That he’d gone ahead and taken the time to plan the evening carefully, with both her physical and emotional comfort in mind, was a very welcome bonus.

      ‘How did your meeting with the management go?’

      ‘It threw up some … unexpected career opportunities.’

      He could have said more but he lapsed into silence and Rowan didn’t push him. Sharing information didn’t come easily to this man. Trust had to be built slowly.

      She opened her eyes and looked in his direction, instantly captivated by the play of shadows across the hard lines of his face and those perfectly formed lips. He was so very beautiful to look at. She doubted she’d ever tire of doing so.

      ‘I patted a puppy this afternoon,’ he offered next, with a wry smile in her direction. ‘It wasn’t my puppy, mind, but I figured it counted as far as taking your advice was concerned. Do you have any pets, Ro?’

      ‘My grandfather has a tortoise. Apparently I’ll inherit.’

      He laughed—and there was a sound to make a woman sit up and take notice, for it was a good laugh. Rich and rolling. Infectious.

      The hotel he took her to looked unimposing from the outside—nothing more than a single set of oversized wooden doors with a black-suited doorman attending them—but the inside was a different matter altogether. Anyone would be able to see this place was on the seven-star side of exclusive the minute they stepped through the doors. Assuming you were allowed through the doors at all.

      Jared had to hand the doorman a plastic swipe card and then face a camera and be photo-IDd. Rowan had to be IDd as well, for this hotel clearly took the security of their guests and visitors extremely seriously.

      ‘Your family keeps an apartment here and no one uses it?’ she asked as they stepped into a gilt-edged lift with bronze handrails and mirrors. The kind of lift a princess or a president might be acquainted with.

      ‘My grandfather bought it. My father keeps it mainly for sentimental reasons, I think. Occasionally he uses it to impress. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t profit from it. We have an agreement with the hotel whereby they have the authority to put guests in the suite when we’re not using it.’

      The apartment he took her to was a three-bedroom penthouse, complete with a ten-person dining table, a bar, and an exquisitely furnished lounge area. It was the kind of suite that foreign dignitaries and heads of state stayed in. It was the kind of hotel that afforded its guests several extra layers of security.

      ‘This do?’ Jared asked as he shut the door behind them.

      ‘Yes!’ Opulence, privacy, and service at their fingertips. ‘You knew it would impress.’

      ‘No. I just hoped it would fit our needs. I have no idea what would impress you.’

      ‘Loyalty. Intelligence. Self-awareness. I’m impressed.’

      For a fleeting moment he looked boyishly pleased, and then he shrugged and added a few more words to the mix. ‘Vengeful, destructive, inaccessible …’

      ‘Trifles,’ she said. ‘You’ll grow out of it.’

      He laughed at her words, his eyes warm and his expression boyishly unguarded. ‘We’ll see.’ He crossed to the bar. ‘What can I get you to drink?’

      ‘Cool, clear, bubble-infested water.’

      ‘Do you ever drink alcohol?’

      ‘Occasionally. I don’t dislike it. It’s more a matter of being permanently on call.’

      ‘That’s a strong service ethic you have there, Ro.’

      Maybe he meant it as a criticism—she didn’t know. ‘Plenty of people have one.’

      He nodded and handed her the room service menu, then tucked in shoulder to shoulder with her while she read it. She didn’t push him away. He felt good and smelled better, the faintly woodsy tang of his aftershave teasing her senses.

      ‘Veal for me,’ she decided after careful perusal. ‘With the creamy fennel sauce and greens—and I absolutely do want the wattle-seed and bush honey crème brûlée afterwards.’

      ‘I’m having the rib-eye,’ he said. ‘With fries, cracked pepper, salad to make it look healthy, and a beer to wash it down with. I’m a simple soul. And I’m not on call.’

      He picked up the hotel phone and put the order through.

      ‘Someone’s coming to sort out the dining area and bring bread and tapas for us,’ he offered when he’d finished.

      ‘Good service.’

      ‘Always is.’

      She cocked her head to one side. ‘You’re used to this level of wealth?’

      ‘I don’t need it,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I can exist on a lot less. But, yes. I was born into wealth. I’ve never wanted for playthings. What about you?’

      ‘I’m used to less.’

      He crossed to the entertainment console and moments later the soft strains of a well-played acoustic guitar filled the room. A little bit Spanish … a little bit alternative.

      ‘Your choice?’ she asked.

      ‘Probably Damon’s—although I recognise who’s playing. Sounds of my youth.’

      ‘Do those youthful memories relax you? The ones you had before ASIS?’

      ‘Yes. There are good memories there. My teenage years were good ones. I thought myself invincible and thought that the world revolved around my every whim. Because it did.’

      ‘See? Told you—you’ll grow out of things.’

      This man could have done anything. Been anything. Yet here he was.

      ‘Why did you join ASIS?’

      ‘I think I was looking for a cause. A way to combine adrenalin-junked-up dangerous activities with righteousness.’

      ‘What did your father say to that decision?’

      ‘Nothing.’ Jared shrugged. ‘It’s not that we don’t get on. We just never saw much of him after my mother’s death. Damon and Poppy got the worst end of that stick. They barely know the man at all.’

      ‘Do they care?’

      Jared shrugged. ‘Can’t speak for them, but I like to hope that even if our father wasn’t around much while they were growing up they didn’t miss out on having family who loved and cared for them. Lena’s good at binding people together. Love, concern, support—just being there for people in the day-to-day. She’s bossy as all hell, mind—and so was I. But the four of us kids held together as a family. We still hold, even though we’re scattered across the globe.’

      ‘I’m glad you have them.’

      ‘Trig’s a part of the family too. I’ve been thinking about something he said the other day. A question he asked me. You and me … if we get together … how will that affect your career? Are you looking to me to enhance it?’

      He crossed to the bar, poured himself a Scotch and stared down at it, frowning.

      ‘Because I have to tell you, Ro, that I’m considering finishing up with special intelligence altogether—so if you have some notion that you and I could team up at some point … be some kind of power couple within the organisation … I’m not on board with it.’

      It had been a long time since someone had managed to shock her so thoroughly, and it must have shown on her face because Jared suddenly grinned.

      ‘A power couple?’ she echoed flatly. ‘In what way?’

      ‘Management offered me a black ops crew of my