Brooke forced herself not to look away in embarrassment.
He was trying to make her feel like a jerk, and it was working. She’d forgotten that Maya’s file indicated both parents were deceased. She certainly hadn’t meant to remind him about Hank Tyler’s recent death, but her comment had been insensitive all the same. She was usually much better at details than this.
Still, she wasn’t about to grovel beneath his icy stare, so instead, she gave a small nod. “Well then, Maya’s lucky to have you.”
His eyes narrowed as though assessing her statement for mockery, but Brooke merely smiled. Just let him stew on whether or not she was being sarcastic.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “A cappuccino, water, champagne?”
He glanced at his watch. “Champagne? It’s barely past two in the afternoon.”
Ugh. So he was like that.
A total stiff.
Good thing he was a ten physically, because his personality was trending toward the negative.
“It’s also a special occasion,” she said softly. “Your sister is getting married.”
Seth grunted and tore his light blue gaze away from hers, and Brooke’s curiosity spiked. Whatever Seth Tyler’s reasons for being here, they certainly didn’t involve being excited about his sister’s upcoming nuptials.
Brooke tilted her head slightly and considered him. “You don’t want to be here.”
His eyes snapped back to her. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Really,” she said, crossing her arms. “So you’re telling me that you want to be standing inside a wedding planner’s office right now, gearing up to talk about canapés and bustles and tea-length versus cocktail-length bridesmaid dresses, and coupes versus flutes for the champagne toast?”
Seth’s gaze raked over her before he took a step closer. He was tall, but she was in five-inch heels, which meant she only had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. She didn’t know why, but this man seemed determined to make her feel small. Well, screw him—Brooke wasn’t going to roll over and play dead.
She’d experienced plenty of belittling in the past four months from people she actually cared about. She wasn’t about to let a perfect stranger—no matter how gorgeous—get under her skin.
“You should know something, Ms. . . .”
“Baldwin,” she said evenly.
“Ms. Baldwin,” he said slowly, as though tasting the sound of her name on his tongue. Then he dropped his eyes to her mouth as though wanting to taste more than the sound of her name.
Brooke swallowed and forced herself not to take a step back. “What is it that I should know?” she prompted.
His eyes lifted back to hers, and despite their closeness, despite the heat between their bodies, there was no warmth in his eyes. This was a man who’d long ago mastered the art of perfect, icy control.
“You should know that I never do anything I don’t want to,” he said in that low, husky voice.
“Is that so?” Crap. Now her voice was husky.
“It is,” he said slowly. He moved even closer.
“And what is it that you want?” she asked.
His eyes drifted once more down to her mouth, and Brooke ordered herself firmly not to do anything ridiculous, say, like leaning into a man who was proving to be a pretentious ass.
Except . . .
Except, he smelled good. Really good. Like expensive cologne and man and sex, and despite the fact that Brooke was writing off the opposite sex for at least the next year, she wanted . . . she wanted . . .
Another chime at the door sounded, shattering the moment.
If it had even been a moment. A quick glance up at Seth Tyler showed that he didn’t look the least bit fazed by the sexually charged encounter.
She turned on her heel, ignoring the heat of his gaze on her back, and opened the door to Maya Tyler and a man who was almost as good-looking as Seth.
Almost.
“Hi, so wonderful to meet you! You must be Maya and Neil,” Brooke said, ushering them in with a warm smile as she felt her heart rate return to normal.
“I’m so sorry we’re late,” Maya said. “I wish I could blame it on traffic, but the truth is, my hair appointment ran long.”
“It’s hard for us blondes, isn’t it?” Brooke said with a wink. “And it was totally worth it, by the way. You look fabulous.”
Brooke meant it. Maya Tyler was every bit as gorgeous as her brother. Her eyes were the same piercing light blue as Seth’s and a good deal more friendly, while her hair and skin were both lighter. Brooke could tell this was a woman who took full advantage of what must be an unlimited beauty budget—every detail, from the perfect highlights to the subtle eyelash extensions to the creamy complexion, was flawless and expensive-looking.
Brooke turned toward Maya’s fiancé. The man was extremely attractive in a vaguely exotic way. His skin was a dark bronze, his eyes dark brown with impossibly thick lashes. The smile was bright white and utterly charming.