He chuckled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. Logan was right—he was a miserable bastard.
Her eyes widened at the sound, and she stared at him. Without thought, he found himself inching closer along the sofa.
Whoa. Don’t go there. Not happening, remember.
But somehow he couldn’t seem to stop. She still clutched her cup in her small hand, and he pried it free and placed it on the coffee table. He wasn’t going to do anything. Really, he wasn’t. Just maybe see if her skin was as soft as it looked. He reached out and trailed a finger down the curve of her cheek. Softer. And warm. He traced over her full lower lip, and her breath feathered his fingertip, sending shivers down his arm.
He was leaning in, intent on her parted lips, when her cell phone rang. She jumped, and he jerked back as she cleared her throat and rummaged in her bag. She pulled out the phone, got to her feet, and talked for a moment, though the words made no sense to him.
He was in big trouble.
He needed to stay far away from Lexi until he had sorted this out. He was obviously not to be trusted around her. So the answer was distance.
She popped the phone back in her bag and turned to him. “That was Sadie—my secretary. Apparently, my grandmother and Daniel are on the way. I have to go.”
“We still haven’t worked out what we’re going to do.”
“I’ll call later. If I deal with this, maybe they’ll disappear back to New York.”
“You want me to come with you?” The words were out before he could think better of them. Where had that idea come from? She was not his responsibility. It was nothing to do with him that the brightness had faded from her eyes as she spoke on the phone. But he realized he didn’t want her facing that couple alone. She shouldn’t have to.
She frowned. “Why?”
“Moral support.”
“I don’t need moral support. I’ve managed so far.”
Why was he pushing this? “We can have lunch afterward and discuss our divorce in a nice, civilized manner.” Except she didn’t make him feel civilized.
She studied him for a moment longer, head cocked to one side. “Civilized?” She gave a quick nod. “Okay.” And with that she was gone.
Chapter Seven
Half an hour later, Lexi let herself into her office and collapsed onto the chair behind her still very tidy desk. The orderliness made her twitch, and she pulled some stuff out of the drawer and scattered it over the surface. From the midst of the rubble, the photo of Josh stared back at her.
He hadn’t had sex in over five years. She still couldn’t get over that little piece of information.
Presumably that was the only reason he’d done it last night. He’d been desperate. Probably under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even look at a woman like her.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
He didn’t cheat.
But he didn’t want sex with her. Because he wanted no-strings-sex. And he reckoned she came with strings.
Ha! How wrong could he be?
Bastard.
In that case, he was going to have to keep it in his pants for the next six months. After they got rid of her grandmother, she would explain what was at stake. She didn’t know him well, but she knew him enough—he wasn’t a bad person. She didn’t believe he would jeopardize all she had worked for, just for a no-strings-shag.
At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.
He’d dropped her off in front of the office and then gone to find somewhere to park—not an easy thing in this part of the city. In the meantime, she’d make him a sort of mini-presentation to show him what the organization did. She was proud of what she’d achieved in a few short years.
After she’d married Josh, she’d sort of known what she wanted to do with the money; she just hadn’t been entirely sure how to go about it. She’d lived a very sheltered life until then. Boarding school most of the time. Holidays at the family’s estate in Northumberland, usually alone, as her grandmother preferred the city. So she’d just taken off. Bought a round-the-world ticket and gone around the world. In the end, she’d been away for two years.
She’d met some interesting people, worked on projects in different countries, on different continents, in Africa and Asia. Taught English in schools, helped build wells. Finally, she’d come home with a better understanding of what she needed to move forward, and the contacts to help her find the people to do it. She’d set up the organization and named it after her father, whose money made it possible.
The outer door banged, and she glanced up from her laptop. Her heart jumped, skipping a beat, which was weird and unwelcome. Then she heard her grandmother’s clipped tones through the door, and her heart sank.