That earned him a grin. “I like nice toys. What kind of toys are we talking about here?” A blast of cold air hit her from the open door, and she shivered. “Come on, then! I want to know what’s here. Can I see your garage? Workshop? Is there a pool?”
Can I touch you? Because fuck, you’re gorgeous.
Summer thanked the gods Tony wasn’t a telepath. And that she knew how not to project. No sense wasting a perfectly good psuedo-vacation by screwing it up from the start.
Tony grinned in return, stepping inside behind her. ”If you can think of a nice toy, I’ve probably got it stashed somewhere.” And then, in order, he ticked off on one hand, “Garage is fine, the workshop is kinda…iffy, and yes there’s a pool.”
Really, it was a good thing Tony couldn’t read thoughts. He was already well enough appraised of his own looks. Any more ego stroking would just be massively excessive and make him even more obnoxious than usual. So it was fortunate that he had no idea what she was thinking.
“If I promise not to touch anything without permission, may I see the workshop?” Because, oh, the computers! Summer yearned to see those computers. “Please?” She gave Tony big, innocent eyes, complete with clasped hands. “I’ll even put my hair up so nothing catches.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about you touching anything. But it’s a hazard zone in there, right now. I’ve been working on a project. And I don’t want to have to clean up anything you might not be allowed to see.” Evidently, Bambi eyes had no effect on Tony Stark. ”What do you want to see in there, anyway?”
After a brief internal struggle, Summer answered honestly, “Mostly the computers. I’ve always had a computer, and I just … a man like you, with that suit? You must have some of the best tech on the planet.” She glanced around. “I am going to get so lost in here. Where is my bedroom, anyway?”
Five seconds too late, she realised that might not have been the best thing to ask Tony Stark, playboy. Time to wing it. “I … just want to put my bag down before I even try to go exploring.”
That earned him a grin. “I like nice toys. What kind of toys are we talking about here?” A blast of cold air hit her from the open door, and she shivered. “Come on, then! I want to know what’s here. Can I see your garage? Workshop? Is there a pool?”
Can I touch you? Because fuck, you’re gorgeous.
Summer thanked the gods Tony wasn’t a telepath. And that she knew how not to project. No sense wasting a perfectly good psuedo-vacation by screwing it up from the start.
Tony grinned in return, stepping inside behind her. ”If you can think of a nice toy, I’ve probably got it stashed somewhere.” And then, in order, he ticked off on one hand, “Garage is fine, the workshop is kinda…iffy, and yes there’s a pool.”
Really, it was a good thing Tony couldn’t read thoughts. He was already well enough appraised of his own looks. Any more ego stroking would just be massively excessive and make him even more obnoxious than usual. So it was fortunate that he had no idea what she was thinking.
“If I promise not to touch anything without permission, may I see the workshop?” Because, oh, the computers! Summer yearned to see those computers. “Please?” She gave Tony big, innocent eyes, complete with clasped hands. “I’ll even put my hair up so nothing catches.”
“Bah, semantics.” Summer grinned. Tapping the backpack next to her with one foot, she glanced at the doors and said, “So, is there a protocol, do you need to do any kind of showy thing, or shall I just march in and take over?”
Tony shrugged, and slid his hands into his pockets. ”If there’s supposed to be a light show, they failed to tell me about it. So, best make with the marching and the taking over.” He turned, sweeping one arm towards the doors like some sort of extravagant doorman.
It should have taken half a second to sling the backpack over her shoulder. Unfortunately, the curse of ‘hair to your knees’ kicked in just then, resulting in three seconds of swearing, followed by ten seconds of pulling all the strands including the annoying elusive ones out from under the straps — and the total ruination of the cool impression she’d been trying to make.
“Aaaand now I look like an idiot.” Shoving her hair back over her left shoulder, Summer pulled the glass door open and asked, “How is this supposed to work, anyway? Am I supposed to follow you around, or … boss you around?” She accented that last with a raised eyebrow.
Tony cleared his throat behind his hand to mask his short burst of laughter, but it wasn’t an entirely successful endeavor. ”An idiot? I wouldn’t say that,” he said, his tone one of pure innocence. ”But it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep such an impressive mane tied back.”
As she brought up who was supposed to boss who around, his eyebrows rose. ”I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be in charge. Besides, if you just followed me around, all mystique would be lost and I’d be revealed as just a rather eccentric business man with very nice toys.”
That earned him a grin. “I like nice toys. What kind of toys are we talking about here?” A blast of cold air hit her from the open door, and she shivered. “Come on, then! I want to know what’s here. Can I see your garage? Workshop? Is there a pool?”
Can I touch you? Because fuck, you’re gorgeous.
Summer thanked the gods Tony wasn’t a telepath. And that she knew how not to project. No sense wasting a perfectly good psuedo-vacation by screwing it up from the start.
“Bah, semantics.” Summer grinned. Tapping the backpack next to her with one foot, she glanced at the doors and said, “So, is there a protocol, do you need to do any kind of showy thing, or shall I just march in and take over?”
Tony shrugged, and slid his hands into his pockets. ”If there’s supposed to be a light show, they failed to tell me about it. So, best make with the marching and the taking over.” He turned, sweeping one arm towards the doors like some sort of extravagant doorman.
It should have taken half a second to sling the backpack over her shoulder. Unfortunately, the curse of ‘hair to your knees’ kicked in just then, resulting in three seconds of swearing, followed by ten seconds of pulling all the strands including the annoying elusive ones out from under the straps — and the total ruination of the cool impression she’d been trying to make.
“Aaaand now I look like an idiot.” Shoving her hair back over her left shoulder, Summer pulled the glass door open and asked, “How is this supposed to work, anyway? Am I supposed to follow you around, or … boss you around?” She accented that last with a raised eyebrow.
“Unless you’re Mr. Stark’s identical twin kept hidden from the world for decades just to double for him in public … I believe I am.” Rumour claimed Tony Stark was a man who liked sass, and by gods, Summer could do sass. She pulled a slender, long-fingered hand out of her pocket and offered it, low, with a smile. “I’m Summer Rainault.”
For a man of his age, Tony was a good looking piece, especially out of the suit. Cocky smile, neat goatee, tall dark and handsome check … it was possible this could be an extremely amusing three days.
“If I was, I wouldn’t exactly be hidden. I can’t be hidden, and go out in public. You just wouldn’t know I was a twin. But alas, I don’t have a body double. I should look into it.” Tony only paused for a moment before shaking her hand. ”Nice to meet you.”
She was definitely attractive, he would give her that. And she seemed like she would be able to keep up reasonably well conversationally. Maybe this wouldn’t be quite as horrible as he’d originally thought.
“Bah, semantics.” Summer grinned. Tapping the backpack next to her with one foot, she glanced at the doors and said, “So, is there a protocol, do you need to do any kind of showy thing, or shall I just march in and take over?”
Summer wasn’t even entirely sure why she’d even bothered to buy any tickets to that celebrity lottery. Okay, so it was Tony Stark, THE Iron Man. Okay, so they were cheap, and it was a good cause.
She’d certainly never expected to WIN.
Now the petite redhead was standing outside Stark Tower, six months in New York at least enabling her to not gape upwards, waiting to actually meet the man whose life she’d get to be a part of for the next three days. She shoved her hands into her blue jean pockets, idly swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet.
