5

"Nice car," he said, nodding to where she'd parked. "I like it"

His eyes leased as he asked, "What does it say about you?"

She already felt under attack from him and instinctively she fended off the probe that was asking her to reveal private feelings. "Ermmm... Does it have to say anything?" Jasmine asked

"Cars always say something about their owners." Collins replied and withdrew his hand. Then gestured to his friend. "Now take Leonard here. His BMW says he's made it. He's solid. He likes proven performance."

"Right on," Leonard agreed.

"So what car do you own?" Jasmine asked Collins, wanting to learn something about him.

He grinned. "I don't. If I need a car, I hire one."

"Don't let him fool you, Jasmine" Leonard quickly inserted. "Collins is a bikie from way back. He's got a whole stable of bikes to suit whatever mood he's in and whatever he wants to do."

"An open road man," she observed, thinking Collins had to have the kind of mind that would hale any form of confinement.

"Oh wow. Like you, Jasmine" Favour popped in, all for encouraging this twosome.

Collins raised one eyebrow. "True?" he asked.

Jasmine shrugged. "I have only ever thought of my car as a somewhat impractical self-indulgence." she replied. She shot a rueful look at her sister. "Favour is the one who analyzes everything to death."

"And I love her great sense of logic," Leonard said with relish, beaming with pleasure in her sister. He held out the bottle he was carrying. "Brought the best French bubbly to celebrate your birthday, Fav"

"Great" She grabbed his arm, hugging it as he turned to lead them into the restaurant. "I just love your sense of occasion, Leonard"

They were so obviously happy with each other, Jasmine shook her head over the pressure exerted on her to make up a foursome. She eyed Collins Templeton curiously, aware that he could probably snap his fingers and pick up any woman.

So why had he agreed to a blind date?

She remembered Favour's argument, centered mostly on getting Jasmine to rid herself of Robert and open up to other men.

Embarrassment squirmed through her at the thought that Favour had engaged Leonard's help to fix up her sister and she was some kind of charity case to Collins Templeton—doing a favor asked of him by his old friend, A horrible sense of humiliation forced her to blurt out.

"Did Leonard coerce you into partnering with me tonight?" she asked.

He was slow to reply, possibly picking up her inner tension and musing over its cause. "I had no other plans. Leonard wanted me to make up a party of four tonight and I agreed." His mouth quirked. "No regrets so far. But if you have a problem with the arrangement.."

"No" she rushed out on a wave of intense relief. He hadn't been told anything personal about her.

His head tilted quizzically. "You want to cut and run?"

Truth spilled out before she could slop it. "Favour would kill me if I did."

"Ah! So she coerced you." he said.

Jasmine took a deep breath, wanting to get onto some kind of equal footing with him. "It was more her idea than mine."

"Does that mean you're anticipating pain with me?"

A nervous gurgle of laughter bubbled out. "Let me fantasise about pleasure for a while."

"Good idea!" His eyes twinkled wicked mischief. "I will do the same." He half turned, waving her to fall into step with him to follow Leonard and Favour. He made no attempt to take her arm or hand, for which she was grateful since she was super-conscious of his physicality as it was, and any contact would feel sexual after her blunder in linking pleasure and fantasy.

"Favour said you and Leonard have been friends since school days," she remarked, trying to dampen the sizzle she'd unwittingly raised.

"Mmm...going on twenty years. We're still the same people to each other. You get to value that as you move through life."

"I guess you do a lot of role-playing with your work."

He paused, slanting her a sharp look beneath lowered brows. "You know what I do?"

Would he have preferred her not to know? To pretend he was just some regular guy for the night? Was he sick of women climbing all over him for what he was?

"It's okay. I won't blab on about it," she assured him. "I don't think Favour knows. I happen to work with graphic artists who are interested in everything you come up with—big discussions—so when Leonard introduced you..."

"You are a graphic artist yourself?" he cut in, an angry tension emanating from him.

"No. And I'm not a user, either." she asserted, resenting the implied assumption that she might angle some benefit out of this meeting with him. "You're perfectly safe with me, Collins Templeton"

He gave her a long hard look that bristled with suspicion and she stared right back with fierce pride, finally earning a glint of respect.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," he drawled, his mouth taking on a wrytwist. "You pack quite a punch, Jasmine Leclaire"

Heat whooshed up her neck and into her cheeks as sexual electricity crackled from him and zipped into her bloodstream. Jasmine was appalled at herself. She never blushed. She might flush in anger, but blushing belonged to adolescence and she was way past that. A sophisticated career woman did not blush.

"You are not exactly harmless yourself," she retorted defensively, only realizing it was an admission of the attraction he exerted after she had spoken. Not that it mattered. He knew anyway. Impossible for him not to be aware of his effect on women, just as she was aware that many men fancied her.

He shrugged. "Sorry if I gave offence. This is my week off from being the Collins Templeton. In fact, it's my last night off. I have to go back to being him tomorrow."

"You don't like being him?" she asked. Was being so successful such a burden?

"Well, it has its rewards and I'm not about to give them up," he stated, determination glinting in his eyes. "But.... there's a time and place for everything."

it was clear he wouldn't enjoy being with some star-struck woman who raved on about what he'd achieved or tried to ferret out the key to his meteoric rise to fame in his field.

"So what would you like tonight to be?" Jasmine asked, somewhat bemused by his wish to set aside the recognition that most men's egos would demand.