‘I understand, Chantelle, I really do,’ he whispered as she buried her face in his chest. They stood still for a few moments, holding each other. Then slowly they began walking again, in silence, Chantelle’s eyes on the leaf-covered path. Every hundred metres a tree was lit up, creating spectacular bright shadowy figures. She looked up as they passed one, admiring the way the bare branches reached up to the sky, so proud and strong.
Granger squeezed her hand. ‘Tell me, Ms Moulier, where do you see yourself in five years? What’s your five-year plan?’
‘Is this an interview?’ Chantelle laughed; this was the sort of thing they had practised at university.
‘Na, just genuine curiosity.’
‘In five years I’ll be an analyst. Maybe a senior analyst already, if not, well on the way to it.’
‘You know what you want.’ Granger nodded. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Yes, I do. It’s what I’ve been working for.’
‘You want to be rich and successful, huh?’ he asked.
‘Successful, definitely. Rich?’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess. I want to have enough money to pay my aunt and uncle back for everything they have given me over the years. I want to earn enough to support myself and be able to afford a nice place to live, but I don’t need more than that. I’ve never been too bothered by, you know, stuff. I don’t need to be rich.’
‘Not bothered by stuff,’ Granger repeated.
‘No,’ Chantelle confirmed.
‘That’s refreshing to hear.’ Granger considered for a moment. ‘I guess I’ve been pretty bothered by stuff.’
They kept walking, completing the circuit and arriving back at the entrance of the park. They headed back to Granger’s apartment, Rocky trotting behind them. Chantelle glanced behind her at the dog and smiled – it looked like he was smiling too. Was that even possible?
Granger let them in and Rocky headed straight for the armchair, jumped on it, curled up and closed his eyes. Granger laughed, dimmed the lights, and put the music on. He took their wine glasses out of the fridge and handed one to her.
‘I’m going to order dinner and hang my jacket up. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.’ He nodded at Rocky. ‘Please excuse him. He’s not used to company.’
Chantelle laughed and sipped her wine, perching on the edge of the leather sofa. Was she really here? Everything was moving so fast. A nagging feeling was tugging at the back of her mind. She was enjoying herself now, but she wouldn’t have a job by the end of next week. Then what would she do? She’d wasted the day and not applied for any jobs.
She opened her phone and started scrolling through the job board again. She had to get on with applying. She found three analyst jobs based in the business park just outside Branford. She added them to her wish list.
‘Mademoiselle,’ Granger said, coming down the stairs. Chantelle looked up. He’d changed into jeans and his hair was wet from the shower.
‘That was fast.’
Granger pulled a mock frown. ‘You didn’t miss me, then?’
‘I was busy, sorry.’ She put her phone in her bag.
Granger looked at her suspiciously. ‘Busy with what? Not working, surely?’
‘No, no!’ Chantelle laughed.
‘Good. I don’t know how much I’m paying you, but it’s not enough to be working when you’re supposed to be relaxing. With me,’ he added, and ran his fingers through her hair. ‘Tell me about your aunt and uncle’s vineyard,’ he said, fiddling with the buttons on the placket of his poloshirt.
‘Erm, I don’t know where to start,’ she said, struggling to speak; her eyes were drawn to the golden skin at the top of his chest. He was so close to her, his thigh pressing against hers.
‘Where is it, exactly?’ he asked. Chantelle watched his lips move as he spoke; they were so firm and sensual. Her mind was spinning – she couldn’t focus and work out what he was saying. Her body was exploding with excitement. As if reading the desire in her face, he stopped speaking. His hand moved up her arm to her shoulder, his fingers coiling their way around the back of her neck and into her loose hair.
Chantelle turned her face to his and lifted her chin. There was something pulling her to him; his eyes burned with a fire so intense she struggled to look into them. Her whole body was alive with a passion that she didn’t know she was capable of feeling.
He bent towards her and she knew she had no chance to fight, no desire to fight. All she wanted was to feel his mouth.
Her wish was answered. He lowered his lips down on hers and she submitted to his caresses. Her body went weak; her muscles no longer seemed to support her as she melted into his arms. Granger’s hands were rough and powerful, his fingers curling in and out of her hair, tugging and pulling her head away and pushing her face towards him at the same time. His lips left hers, trailing a heated path down her chin and on to her neck, kisses that were sharp and fierce. His teeth caught her soft skin and she moaned, not wanting him to stop but not sure she could take anymore, she was too excited. Her chest ached for him, she was yearning for him to touch her there.
Granger pushed her backwards on to the sofa, guiding his body expertly on top of hers. She sighed, sure that relief would come. He would be inside her soon – she could barely wait.
There was a buzz. Granger ignored it, his fingers finding their way into her clothes. She shivered as he grazed her soft skin. Chantelle shifted her body so he could access her easily; she wanted him.
The buzz came again. ‘Shit,’ Granger muttered, frustration visible on his face. He pulled away from her, his eyes lingering on her body. He hesitated for a second as if fighting with himself, then he turned and went to answer the door.
Chapter Six
Granger returned to the living room with a large cardboard box. Chantelle had straightened her clothes and was standing by the window. The flush around her chest and the tiny red marks on her neck were the only hint as to what had just happened between them.
‘Sorry for that rude interruption. I have to say, I considered leaving him standing out there, but I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate skipping dinner,’ Granger said, opening the box and taking out a package of shining silver cutlery.
Chantelle laughed. ‘Wise move – I never skip meals.’ Granger produced two bone china dishes and a steaming tray of pasta from the box.
‘Hmmm,’ Chantelle said. ‘That smells good. I didn’t realise how hungry I am.’ He served spaghetti on to each plate and covered it with pasta sauce and meatballs.
‘Ginelli’s around the corner. He makes the best Italian food I’ve tasted outside Italy. I’m a good customer – that’s why he lent me the silverware.’ Granger winked. ‘Hang on, let me get some red.’
He returned with an open bottle of wine and poured it into each glass. Chantelle sniffed. It smelled wonderful, rich and heavy, perfect for the tomato sauce. ‘Good choice,’ she whispered and Granger grinned. She sat down at the table opposite him, sipped the wine and looked out of the window at the view of Summerville.
‘I think you’re going to have a problem,’ Granger said.
Chantelle froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. ‘What problem?’
‘I’m going to the US in a couple of days and you’re going to stay here. My apartment is not exactly equipped. I didn’t have that much in the first place because I don’t really cook, but now there’s pretty much nothing in the kitchen by way of utensils.’ He looked around, assessing his apartment. ‘This whole place is missing some things. It’s kind of a bachelor pad – not very cosy.’
‘Ah.’ Chantelle looked down at her plate.
‘Hey, it’s not that bad. I’ll figure something out.’ Granger laughed.
Chantelle shook her head. ‘It’s not that, I don’t mind not having stuff. It’s just that I can’t stay here when you are gone.’
‘Why not?’
Granger asked; his face clouded.
Chantelle looked at him. ‘It feels wrong. I shouldn’t even be here with you tonight. I can’t stay here if I am working for you.’ As she said it the realisation came to her: her reasoning was redundant; after next week she wouldn’t work for him. ‘I don’t want you to do me favours.’
Granger rolled his eyes. ‘Chantelle, I told you, you’d be doing me a favour. I need someone to look after that guy.’ He pointed to Rocky who was still asleep on the chair. The dog’s ears pricked up. He opened his eyes and lifted his head; it looked as though he raised his eyebrows, his muzzle twitching. Chantelle looked at him and her heart melted. She couldn’t help but laugh.
‘OK, OK. I give up. How can I say no to him?’
Granger frowned. ‘You can say no to me but not to him. Something doesn’t add up there. Should I be jealous?’
Chantelle grinned and shrugged. ‘Those dark eyes are just too irresistible.’
‘Easy, you’ll give me a complex!’ Granger laughed. ‘Anyway, back to my original concern. What are we going to do for plates?’
‘I’ll be fine. Having no plates in a beautiful kitchen is not one of my worries. I can buy some paper plates from the supermarket, and get some plastic cups …’ She trailed off, seeing the look on his face. ‘Have I said something wrong?’
‘Yes! You won’t buy plastic cutlery and paper plates. If you are staying here as my guest, helping me out, I will ensure you have the best. You don’t have to live like a student. I would have my assistant sort this out, but maybe you would prefer to do it? Buy anything you need, anything you want, order it and get it delivered. I’ll pay.’
‘You’ll pay?’ Chantelle repeated.
‘Yes, I’ll pay, don’t worry about the cost. Order anything you think this place needs to be liveable, anything you want.’ He looked around. ‘If you feel like it needs more … I don’t know, cushions or rugs.’
‘Anything I want?’ Chantelle confirmed.
‘Please. Anything you think this place could do with. The biggest TV you can find, solid silver cutlery. Really, you’d be doing me a favour.’ He pushed his empty plate aside. ‘I really haven’t been too focused on this apartment. It’s been needing sorting out for ages. But only if you find it fun. If you don’t fancy shopping and stuff that’s also fine. I can get Janet do it.’
Chantelle stared at him, struggling to digest his words. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start buying a television. I don’t know anything about televisions.’
‘OK, well don’t worry about the TV, focus on the rest. I’m sure you have excellent taste. But, if you want, email anything to me in the States and I’ll let you know what I think.’ He smiled, causing goosebumps to break out on her skin. He really did have a sexy smile. ‘Oh, and did I tell you there’s a gym and swimming pool on the top floor of this building?’
‘A swimming pool?’ Chantelle gasped. ‘I adore swimming.’
‘Perfect, you can go whenever you want, it’s open twenty-four hours. Enjoy it. The gym is not great, I tend to use the one near the office, but it’s got the basics – treadmills and exercise bikes and stuff.’
‘A swimming pool,’ Chantelle murmured, her skin tingling with excitement, Granger smiled.
‘Hey, we can go tonight if you want,’ he suggested, taking her plate.
‘We could? Yes please!’
He took out two glasses filled with rich chocolate mousse and topped with raspberries.
‘Mousse au chocolat! My favourite,’ Chantelle said. She took the spoon he passed to her and tried it. ‘It’s a good one,’ she informed him.
‘I know. That’s why I ordered it.’ He refilled her glass and she sipped her wine. Chantelle looked up, sensing his eyes on her. ‘What? Why are you watching me like that?’
‘I like watching you. Your cheeks are pink – are you warm?’
She put a hand to her face. ‘It’s the wine. It has that effect on me.’
‘I thought it was me.’ He grinned. ‘You sure have a similar effect on me. Hey, but I don’t want you fainting again like last time.’
Chantelle frowned. ‘Yes, I’d better switch to water.’ She got up and piled up the plates and dishes and carried them to the kitchen. Granger followed her and together they loaded the things into the dishwasher. He showed her how to work it and how the other kitchen appliances worked. They walked back into the living room and stood looking around.
‘What do you think?’ he asked her. ‘I love this apartment, but somehow it just doesn’t feel, you know, homey.’
‘Maybe it does miss some personal touches. Not that it’s not beautiful, but it does have a bit of a hotel feel.’ She glanced at the leather sofa and designer chair, and the empty bookshelf. There were papers on the desk, but the rest of the surfaces were empty. She walked over and perched on the edge of the chair beside Rocky and stroked him. He lifted his head a rested his chin on her leg. Chantelle smiled, and Granger stood watching her. ‘You’re good with him – I’m sure he won’t miss me at all when I’m gone.’
Chantelle laughed. ‘I’m sure he will.’
‘So, what about that swim?’ Granger said. ‘Shall we head up slowly and take a look at the pool?’
‘Great,’ she said. Then her face fell. ‘But wait, I can’t.’
‘What? Why not?’
‘I don’t have my swimming costume.’
‘Don’t worry, there won’t be anyone in there at this time. You could go in your underwear.’ He winked.
‘I couldn’t,’ Chantelle murmured, feeling hot blood burn her cheeks. ‘What if someone saw me?’
‘OK, let me think.’ Granger tapped his fingers on the table. ‘What if I lend you a T-shirt and you wear over your underwear to swim?’ He went up to the mezzanine then came back with a black T-shirt. ‘Here, you can put this on over the top and no one will know you don’t have a costume on underneath. What do you think?’
Chantelle was doubtful. ‘OK, I guess.’
‘And here.’ He handed her a fluffy white bathrobe.
‘Should we change here?’ she asked him.
‘I normally do, and just go up in the lift. There’s no one around.’
Chantelle took the T-shirt and robe into the bathroom. She unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off. Then she opened her skirt and stepped out of it. She held up Granger’s T-shirt. It smelled of washing powder and him. She put it to her nose, breathing in his familiar smell; her pulse sped up as she remembered the touch of his lips on her skin. Her body longed for him; she was drawn to him. What was it? His clear blue eyes? Those strong arms? Or the way he spoke to her, like she was the most important person in the world. She didn’t know, but it felt strange. She’d never been with a man so much older than her before. This experience was completely new. New and exciting.
She pulled the T-shirt on over the top of her underwear then checked herself out in the mirror. Granger was right, there was no indication that she didn’t have her swimming costume on. She pinned her hair up and pulled the white bathrobe around her before stepping out of the bathroom.
Granger was sitting at his desk, looking at something on his computer. He glanced up as she came down the stairs and smiled at her. She folded her clothes and placed them on the sofa, then stood, arms wrapped self-consciously around her body.
‘Ready?’ Granger asked.
She nodded.
‘I’ll be two minutes.’ He jogged up the stairs.
Chantelle sat down next to Rocky, who was now on the sofa, and fondled his sandy-coloured ears. He rested his head on her thigh. The warm presence of the dog made her relaxed. A few moments later Granger came down the stairs dressed in a matching white robe. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. Chantelle got up and he guided her towards the lift. She held her breath as the lift propelled them upwards to the top floor. The doors slid open and Granger led the way to a large ro
om with windows spanning one wall. In the centre of the room was huge swimming pool.
‘Mon Dieu!’ she gasped.
‘And we’re in luck. There’s no one else here,’ Granger said. ‘People mostly use it in the morning. When I come last thing at night it’s always deserted.’ Granger untied the belt of his robe and took it off and dropped it on one of the loungers beside the pool. Chantelle was unable to keep her eyes from his body as he walked to the deep end of the pool. He had long, lean, muscular legs tanned golden brown and decorated with a dusting of dark hair. His arms were curved and strong. His torso was triangular – broad at the shoulders then tapered at his slender waist. When he turned, Chantelle noted the Adonis lines running either side of his abdomen into his swim shorts. He smiled at her, and she managed to smile back. He dived perfectly into the water without so much as a splash and glided along the bottom.
‘Wow,’ Chantelle murmured, sure he couldn’t hear her beneath the water. She slipped off her robe quickly, draped it on the lounger, then walked delicately to the edge of the pool. She dipped a toe in. It was warm and inviting. She lowered her body down, feeling the water take her weight. It felt wonderful, all the stress of work and the past days slipping away as the warm water lapped around her.
Granger powered through the water in strong expert lengths. Chantelle began swimming slowly. The black T-shirt clung and billowed around her body; it was awkward and cumbersome. She longed to take it off.
She looked around. The pool area was empty. Treading water, she heaved the heavy, waterlogged T-shirt off over her head and hauled it out of the pool on to the side.
She felt free, light and easy, gliding through the water like a dolphin. It was amazing having the pool to themselves. Granger came up for air and swam alongside her. His light brown hair was dark with water and swept back off his face. ‘Nice, huh?’
‘I love it! You are so lucky to have this in your apartment building.’ Chantelle swam forward, stretching out to reach the edge. Granger kicked off and dived under the water, swimming for metres before coming up and completing the length.
The Executive Floor Page 10
