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“What are you doing?” she croaked.

“Inviting you to say no, or not?”

“This isn’t a game.” But she’d picked up his scent, woody and warm—Casildo—and her pulse was racing because she’d just told a lie. She wanted to play with Casildo Hariri.

“Saying no to family is never a game.” His brows furrowed, and he’d gone inside his head. Inside unhappy memories, and rescuing him from that abyss became essential.

Bea turned her face into his neck, nuzzling behind his ear, her pulse racing at her uncharacteristic boldness. “Maybe you should practise saying no to me.”

“I’m not going to say no if you touch me.” Whatever had troubled him was forgotten. His soulful eyes were deadly serious.

“You should.” She licked suddenly dry lips. Was he attracted to her?

“Why?” His gaze settled on her mouth.

Did I invite that?

“Because my best friend’s your brother’s wife.” She almost whispered.

“I’ve been telling myself that. At least a dozen times a day. It’s not really their business.”

“They care. They might worry.”

“Even so, I’m not sure it works as a deterrent.”

“Do it again. Semantic satiation—rapid, multiple repetitions can dull a message.”

“In our industry, consistent messaging is the key to effective communication,” he said, tracing a path from her forehead to the corner of her mouth with his index finger. “You’re frowning.”

“We want to remain friends.”

“I can confidently say I’ll always be your friend.” He met her stare.

“That’s a big call.”

“We already are. We’ve exchanged more than words at all those meetings, cocktail parties and conferences we’ve both attended on behalf of our companies. You listen to people, you negotiate instead of bludgeoning, you want the best outcome for all concerned, not the one that makes you look best. You trusted me to move in for this week.”

“I ... ”

“Speechless. That’s rare. I like the way you do business. I get a kick out of watching your relationship with Anna. I’m already a fan.”

“I can say no,” she protested. She had a backbone. Just needed to use it more.

“Do you mean right this minute?” he asked, his thumb stroking her earlobe.

“I said no to Jackson Smithers.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a barbarian. You have to say no to people you care about.”

“Have you ever?”

“On the little things, it doesn’t matter. Will you swap turns washing up so I can study? Yes hurts neither of us. On the big things? I refused to let my jaddatee go out alone at the height of the anti-Islam backlash. Some idiots were pulling headscarves off women as a sign of how brave they were. She was scared but refused to be cowed into locking herself in the house.”

“I refused to be pushed over tonight. In my own way. Tonight and last night. Two dinners because I didn’t want to risk two sisters ganging up on me together, but they’d shared tactics.”