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stack towards her, he barelyglanced in her direction, yet a telltale tic in the vicinity of his jaw alluded to an undercurrent he was desperately trying to hide behind work.
    So the boss man wasn’t quite as cool as he wanted her to believe.
    She knew the feeling. Though his office was spacious, being confined in the same room as him, pretending they were just business colleagues, was taking its toll.
    As hard as she tried to concentrate, every now and then her gaze would wander, honing in on one powerful, dedicated businessman.
    She admired his drive, was grateful he’d hired her, but then her mind would wander along with her gaze, and she’d remember how driven he’d been that night in Sydney—a huge success in all areas of his life, including the bedroom.
    Blinking, she cleared her throat. ‘Where exactly would you like me to start?’
    ‘Start at the top, work your way down.’
    Oh-oh, her erotic memories had impeded her judgement, for she could have sworn she glimpsed a flicker of heat in his steady gaze, and her heart was doing the mambo as he leaned across the desk, so close, so temptingly close.
    His lips quirked as he pushed the documents all the way across. ‘From what you did with that stack of invoices earlier, this lot should be a breeze.’
    Just like that her little fantasy that he was on the verge of flirting pirouetted out the window.
    Of course he was talking about work, not alluding to that night in Sydney.
    But there had been the twinkle in his eyes…
    Gathering up the documents, she stood and headed for her desk, turning back at the last moment, catching him off guard, staring at her legs.
    Yeah, she was right. He wasn’t immune, and she’d be damned if she sat back and took all his ‘this is work, I’m in control, that night never happened’ crap.
    ‘Just so you know—I don’t play games.’
    She expected him to feign indifference or ignorance. Instead, he crossed the room in one second flat to lean down and murmur in her ear, ‘Neither do I,’ before heading out through the door.
    The moment he left she slumped into her chair, grabbed the nearest document and fanned her face rapidly.
    While the air-conditioning kept the room at optimum temperature, working with Callum Cartwright did not.
    Heat prickled her skin as she fanned faster, her cheeks burning. She couldn’t afford to get this hot and bothered, couldn’t let him affect her this way.
    She needed this job, needed to stay focussed and on track so she could return to what she did best: dance.
    Her hand picked up tempo, and the cooling breeze returned her temperature along with her common sense to normal.
    There were a million and one perfectly logical, perfectly sane reasons why she couldn’t get involved with her new boss.
    Not mixing business with pleasure.
    Her recent break-up.
    The fact she wouldn’t be around long.
    And they were just for starters.
    No, moving beyond a strictly platonic business relationship with her boss would be beyond stupid. And, while she might be many things, stupid wasn’t one of them.
    Flinging the document on top of the huge pile, she linked her hands, stretched overhead, enjoying the satisfying elongation of lats, trapezius, triceps, pushing muscles to their limit, only stopping at the twinge of pain that signalled she’d gone far enough.
    Counting to a slow ten under her breath, she finally released her arms, shook them out.
    Much better. Tension released, shoulders loose, ready to resume work.
    Work would keep her focussed.
    Work would keep her occupied.
    Work would keep her from contemplating exactly how much fun it would be to replay that night in Sydney with her sexy boss despite the multitude of reasons not to.
     
    Callum worked through dinner most evenings. It was the norm for him, burying his nose in work, and these days, with the economic downturn and investors both in Australia and abroad panicking, he needed to focus more than ever.
    He’d used to think little of snatching a quick