She must really hate him, Scott mused, taking in the scene before him. Her eyes had widened in shock and dismay, before narrowing dangerously. Never mind that he was innocent of any wrong-doing, she must think that he was in cahoots with the Devil himself. Warren, on the other hand, had merely smiled upon his entrance and waited. The man oozed calm and tranquillity in a situation that could get very volatile, very quickly. Her green blouse complemented her eyes to a level that made them even more intense, while the black pencil skirt showed off the curves Mother Nature gave her. Whatever haute-couture might say, curves won the day over bones, every single time. And on her feet were-:
“Do-me-shoes. She has do-me-shoes.”
Oh crap, Scott thought, I did not say that out loud. Please tell me that I did not say that out loud.
“I said you had nice shoes.”
“These aren’t do-me-shoes; they’re do-one shoes. If you’d know that, you wouldn’t be intruding.”
“Drawing out the battle lines again, Vanessa.”
“That’s Miss Knightsbridge or Counsellor to you.” she replied.
“Hmm, Mr Fortune, what do I like about you?” Vanessa asked with a smile, a sly smile.
There was a pregnant pause. Even the fly on the wall didn’t dare breathe.
“Nothing.” The sly smile was now a full on grin. She examined him from head to toe to let him know that she, unlike him, did not appreciate what she saw.