‘We never finished our introductions.’ His high cheekbones were streaked with slashes of colour. ‘I have a lot of employees.’
‘Oh, and I was just one of the temps.’ OK, so she was. But she hadn’t been just one of them—he’d kissed the hell out of her. She’d felt him and he had her—intimately. Or did he do that with all the girls? Anger roared through her again—vicious, wild anger. ‘You could have found out.’
‘I don’t use the HR files for personal reasons.’
‘No, you just use the temps.’
He braked sharply at the traffic lights. ‘I didn’t use you and you know it.’
Dani shook her head, stupidly hurt by his admission. ‘No, I don’t.’
She wanted to get out of the car and away from him right this second. It was beyond humiliating—she’d gone to him because she had nowhere else to go for help, using her anger to mask the hope that he’d actually feel some kind of responsibility. Buried right beneath everything had been the teeny, tiny hope that he might have actually liked her. What a fool. The whole thing had been so meaningless for him that he hadn’t even bothered to learn her name. He could have found out—his HR dragon or his oh-so-efficient PA could have told him. But he hadn’t asked—he hadn’t wanted to. So while she’d been blown away by that kiss, he hadn’t given it a second thought, other than to be a little annoyed about the resulting clip—or perhaps amused was what he’d been. But the video didn’t affect him the way it did her—all it did for him was enhance his reputation as some kind of playboy sex god. But for her it ruined everything—her prospects, her plans, her reputation. ‘You know something, Mr Carlisle, I don’t care how good a job you can offer me. I don’t want it.’
‘Look—’
‘I’m serious. You can drop me at the corner.’
The locks in the car clicked on. She shot him a venomous look.
‘I’ll take you to the hostel.’ He looked angry, which was so wrong because he was the one who had been insulting, not her.
They were almost at the hostel already—Dani recognised the landmarks. He must have intended to take her there anyway. So much for a conversation somewhere more relaxing—so much for the possibility of a different job.
She was out of the car as soon as he’d pulled over and released the locks, felt her tension yanking tighter when he got out of the car just as quick. ‘You don’t need to see me in.’
‘The least I can do is see you safely home.’ He glared at the hostel’s sign, his frown saying all that he thought about her home—all that he thought about her.
Dani marched up the stairs ahead of him, wishing he’d get the hint and just leave. But he was right behind her as she crossed the floor.
‘Excuse me,’ the receptionist called out to her. ‘Danielle Russo?’
Dani veered towards the desk. Alex got to the counter at the same time as her. So now he knew her name—way too late.
Dani lifted her brows at the woman behind the desk and managed an almost-smile—not able to trust that her voice wouldn’t be razor sharp if she asked if there was a problem.
‘We need you to pay for this week. It’s nothing personal—but we have had trouble with people leaving without paying and then their credit-cards not working. And, er—’ the receptionist looked at her notes ‘—we don’t seem to have credit card details for you.’
That was because Dani knew all about credit cards not working—and, worse, being abused. ‘I paid cash,’ she mumbled.
‘Great. Shall we settle it now, then?’
Dani swallowed. ‘I already paid for last week.’
‘I know.’ She looked apologetic. ‘But I now need payment for this week.’
Alex was like a statue next to her, listening to every word of the painful exchange. Could the day get any worse? Did he really have to be here to witness this last painful humiliation?
‘Um.’ Dani mumbled some more. ‘I’m waiting on my pay before I can do the next week.’
‘Oh.’ The receptionist frowned and then suddenly smiled. ‘Well, what about you pay up to tonight, then, and you can pay the rest tomorrow.’
‘Sure.’ Dani nodded. ‘Thank you.’ There was no pay tomorrow. All she had was in her bag—the two days’ wages she’d got from the agency this morning. She felt her face on fire, felt the sweat trickling down her back as she handed over most of her last dollars.
Nightmare.
She turned and saw him watching her closely, his expression serious. Had he seen the lack of notes in her purse? Her anger spiked again—what was he going to do, pull out his fat wallet and hand over a couple of hundred to her? The humiliating thing was, much as she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to refuse. She hated being backed into a corner like this. While she needed help, her pride didn’t want to take a thing from him. She wanted him to leave. Now. Bitter tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away, trying to build up her defences again—getting emotional only made things a million times worse. Getting emotional made you vulnerable.
‘Thank you for dropping me back to the hostel,’ she said fiercely. ‘I’m sorry I bothered you at work. Let’s just forget the whole thing, shall we?’
Alex watched her go—head high, shoulders back—but it was more of a run than a walk. He hesitated for half a second, then strode straight after her. Damn it, he couldn’t just leave her so obviously on the skids. He walked into the dorm room she’d turned into. His skin crawled when he saw the state of it; what a dump.
‘What are you doing in here?’ She was standing by the bunks, her hands visibly shaking. As he glanced at her she screwed them into fists. No, she didn’t want him to see her distress. He looked about the hideous room to give her a second, feeling like rubbish himself. Her pack was open on the bottom bunk. His eyes flicked over the gloriously huge bra poking out the top and quickly he turned his back on that. He glanced back at her—now she was watching him as if she wanted to beat the hell out of him.
OK, this was bad. Really bad. She was living in a dodgy part of town in a flea-infested hostel in a room with a bunch of strangers. And she was about to be turfed out of it. He felt terrible. He felt responsible. And this was the last thing he needed—he already had enough mess cluttering up his mind. So he had to do something—anything—to fix it. ‘Danielle.’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘I heard the receptionist.’ He shrugged. It was a pretty name. He wished he’d known it sooner. ‘Put your things together.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You can’t stay here.’ It just wasn’t going to happen.
‘Yes, I can. Look, I was wrong to interrupt you today. I made a mistake the other day. I can live with the consequences.’
‘Well, I can’t.’ He took a step closer. ‘Gather your things together and we’ll find you someplace else to stay.’
‘Where?’
He clamped his mouth shut. Yeah—where? Was he going to put her up in a hotel or something? For how long? Think, brain, think. Where were the solutions to problems that he usually found so easily? But he couldn’t think because he was still seeing the lace edging of that pretty white bra and the play part of his head was imagining what it would look like on her. ‘Someplace else.’
‘I can’t afford anywhere else.’
Yeah, and she couldn’t afford here, either, could she? He could offer her money. Lots of money. Wouldn’t that make i
t all go away? Why the hell hadn’t he just written her a cheque in his office?
Because Alex hadn’t got to the top without dotting ‘i’s and crossing ‘t’s—Alex never left a job unfinished. He needed to make sure she really was back on her feet. She couldn’t get a job—there were no jobs. He knew this—his HR department had got over a hundred applicants for the single permanent position they’d advertised. For her to have got the temp position meant her references and skills were brilliant. The personal issue between them had blown it. So he owed her.
But what made him determined to truly see for himself that she was OK was the expression he’d seen—the vulnerability in the elevator. In those brief moments when the façade had dropped, he’d seen the fear in her eyes. And he’d seen it again at the counter of the hostel. She was isolated and alone.
The protective male bit in him dominated the direction of his thoughts. ‘Do you have any friends here?’
The answer was obvious and she didn’t even bother voicing it.
‘Do you know anyone?’
Her chin lifted. ‘I only arrived in the country two weeks ago and got straight to work the minute I could. Sadly I didn’t have the time to make friends there.’ She got in a little dig.
Why was she in New Zealand anyway? He turned; there was time to find that out later. What mattered now was settling her in someplace else. Someplace safer. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I’m not leaving here with you. I’m fine.’ Her feet were firmly planted shoulder width apart; she looked as if she was about to declare that he’d have to carry her out forcibly.