she had looked at it enough during the flight.The man's mouth twisted disdainfully. 'Let me put it another way—''I wish you would,' she sighed with weary impatience. 'I'm in a hurry.'His mouth firmed now, his eyes coldly assessing. 'I'm not interested,' he stated icily.'Sorry?' she frowned her puzzlement.He sighed. 'This ploy may have worked with other men but I am not in the market for helping you find your air fare home. That was to be theroutine, wasn't it?' he scorned.'What routine?' Chelsea demanded impatiently. 'I don't know what you're talking about, I don't need an air fare. I only just got here.''And you are just about to leave again,' he told her with grim determination.'I don't think so.' She shook her head.'I do,' he nodded. 'You see, I was on to you the moment you entered the building.''On to me?' she repeated, her brain a little slow after her flight. 'Maybe you would care to explain that remark?''Certainly,' he bit out tautly. 'It was a wet night—a very wet night,' he added derisively. 'And you obviously need somewhere to stay tonight,' helooked pointedly at her suitcase. 'And I was unfortunate enough to be the one to bump into you.''At least you admit that now!''I admit nothing,' he ground out. 'We simply walked into each other, what I said just now was a matter of speech. But the moment you walkedon after our collision, stopped, thought for a minute, and then turned back and came into the building after me was when I realised what you weredoing.' And she had thought he had entered the building without giving her a second glance, now it appeared he had been aware of her everymovement. 'What was I doing?' she prompted, still puzzled by this conversation.'Deciding I was a suitable candidate for you to spend the night with—''
?' she gasped disbelievingly, staring up at him as if he had gone insane, the rest of the conversation now falling into place. 'Now youlisten here—''No, you listen,' he told her in a controlled voice, the brown eyes cold. 'You're too damned young to be up to tricks like this one—''"Tricks" being the operative word,' she scorned angrily. 'That's what you thought you were going to be, didn't you, my "trick" for the night?'His expression softened a little at her vehemence, although not much. 'I'm sure that you wouldn't have thought of it in that way—''Don't you believe it, buster,' Chelsea snapped, her eyes flashing darkly. 'What you're talking about is soliciting, and they're called hookerswhere I come from too!'His expression became chilling. 'If you want to be basic—''Oh, let's be basic,' she derided furiously. 'You can tell me what my next move should be!' she challenged.He shrugged broad shoulders, not at all disconcerted by her angry aggression. 'You watch which apartment I go into, leave it an appropriateamount of time, then knock on my door pretending you have the wrong address for the friend you were supposed to spend the night with, and thatyou would like to use the telephone. The telephone number conveniently turns out to be a false one too, and I'm supposed to offer to let you spendthe night with me.''For a price!''Not necessarily, I've heard that picking pockets after the event is quite popular nowadays,' he commented calmly, looking at her with cooldisdain.'I don't know what sort of company you've been keeping,' she scorned. 'But I don't go through any man's pockets before
after the event.But you're right about one thing…'