Her Every Fantasy

by Zara Cox

  The girl and young woman I knew in school and university had been breathtaking when I’d eventually forced my head out of the sand and acknowledged her womanhood. But the woman I was looking at now had an extra layer of tenacity to her. I’d noticed it when she’d first walked into my apartment. She’d confirmed it when she’d issued that bold dare, then held her head high in the face of my less than stellar behaviour afterwards.

  Now, she rested one hip against the boot, her head slightly cocked as she watched me, the corners of her incredible lips slightly tilted as if I amused her. Cowering behind the wheel, holding on for dear life, I guessed I was hilarious.

  With a muted curse, I threw my door open and stepped out. Her light, alluring perfume reached out and curled around me as I approached. Her hair was up in a loose knot and the breeze caught at a few errant strands as she stared up at me.

  ‘Thank you for accommodating me, Bryce,’ she murmured, tucking a clutch the same colour as her shoes under one arm before reaching out to brush a runaway curl from her cheek.

  I was jealous of that curl, jealous of the breeze whispering over her face, the rosy gloss clinging to her lips.

  Bloody hell, get a grip.

  ‘No problem. Shall we?’ I turned away from her, stared up at the building I poured my blood and sweat into. From all angles it was a masterpiece. One I was supremely proud of.

  She followed my gaze and for several seconds neither of us spoke.

  ‘It’s a beautiful building, Bryce.’

  Sincerity oozed from her and for a moment she was the woman I’d once called my best friend.

  ‘Thanks.’ The word emerged gruff.

  She smiled and that illusion grew. What the hell was I doing wanting to smile back? She’d ruined us.

  We entered the lobby that was empty save for the three security guards seated behind the newly installed monitoring desk. I waved the senior guard away when he offered to escort us, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering being alone with her wouldn’t help the situation percolating in my trousers. But damned if I was going to risk firing a valuable employee for ogling her the way the three guys were doing now.

  ‘This way.’ I strode across the atrium to the bank of lifts set against the east wall.

  She kept up, her heels clicking in tandem with mine. ‘When is the opening of the building?’

  ‘Unofficially, it’s open. Businesses are moving in but the official ceremony is two weeks after your opening.’

  I stabbed the button for the lift, and waited for her to precede me when the doors slid open. She strolled to the back of the carriage, turned and rested her shoulders against the polished mirrored wall. She angled her body in a way that subtly thrust her chest and hips forward and it was all I could do not to drool at the lush display of her figure. Her clutch was still tucked under one arm and she was toying with the clasp of a diamond tennis bracelet. My gaze dropped to her wrist, and I wondered if her pulse was as erratic as mine. What it would taste like.

  Christ, everything about her turned me on. It was becoming a huge fucking problem.

  The doors opened directly into the store and, relieved, I stepped onto the polished floors. On either side of the entryway were already fitted glass and African oak cabinets that would display her world-famous lingerie come opening day. Against a back wall, boxes were piled high with fittings yet to be installed.

  I headed over to them but a quick inspection showed none of them contained the special chandelier she’d ordered.

  ‘It’s not here,’ I confirmed.

  Her lips compressed, drawing my attention to the soft, glossy curves. ‘Is there any way to track it down?’

  I drew my gaze from her mouth. ‘Of course, but let’s check upstairs first. We’re using one of the floors designated for office space as temporary storage. It may have been sent there.’

  ‘And if it’s not?’

  ‘One problem at a time, rosebud.’

  She inhaled sharply and her gaze darted to mine. ‘Why do you still call me that?’

  I grimaced inwardly. Didn’t I ask that same question of myself a little while ago? I made a beeline for the door, more to escape my own question. ‘Would you prefer I didn’t?’ I parried.

  ‘I’d prefer you didn’t treat me like some unwanted stranger you can’t wait to be rid of.’ There was a throb of irritation in her voice.

  ‘You asked for my help. Here I am.’

  ‘And you look like this is the last place you want to be. Am I really that vile?’

  I gritted my teeth and pressed the button for the lift. ‘Jesus. Since when did you get so melodramatic?’

  She stalked into the lift, anger flashing across her face. ‘Fine, since you’ve been avoiding my calls I’m guessing you still don’t want anything to do with me, but can we keep things at least civil between us? I wouldn’t have called you if your foreman was available so if you think I have some sort of agenda going on here, then think again. All I want is my chandelier and a date of when it’ll be installed and I’ll be out of your hair, okay?’

  I couldn’t look away from the pulse racing at her throat, the bright shine to her eyes. Hell, the sheer magnificence of her face. Every part of her that my gaze touched cemented what I’d suspected since her email had landed in my inbox.

  I was well and truly screwed. In all the ways imaginable.

  ‘All right, calm down. We’ll get to the bottom of where your precious chandelier is.’

  ‘And then?’

  I sighed. ‘And then I’ll buy you dinner to make up for the delay and inconvenience. Does that work for you?’

  That wicked little smile quirked the corners of her mouth again. ‘How can I refuse such a gracious offer? I’ll dismiss my driver.’

  She drew her phone from her clutch. Slender fingers pressed a button before lifting the handset to her ear. In sultry tones, she dispatched her driver for the night. As she returned her phone to her clutch, the tip of her tongue flitted out to lick the corner of her lip, and it suddenly occurred to me that I’d never kissed her, despite having gone down on her twice.

  I continued staring at her mouth as she zipped up the purse. A mouth I was having a hard time dragging my gaze from as the lift hurtled us into the sky before gliding to a stop on the fortieth floor.

  The doors slid open. Waited.

  ‘Are you planning on getting out?’ she asked, those sleek eyebrows raised at me.

  Stifling a curse, I waved her ahead of me. She sashayed her way out, the stunning hourglass figure that had made her millions as a plus-size model taunting every red-blooded cell in my body.

  Yeah. Definitely screwed.

  We found her chandelier tucked in amongst the previous day’s delivery with a worksheet that said it was slated to be installed on Monday.

  She inspected the crate thoroughly and then scrutinised the sheet before stepping back.

  ‘Satisfied?’ I asked.

  She rested her hand on top of the crate, the other on her hip. ‘Not until I get some food inside me. All this trekking around is making me hungry. Are you going to feed me now?’

  Her appetite had been one of the many things I loved about her, even though she’d detested it. Most of the women in my family and the women I dated treated food as if it was the necessary evil to be endured and not enjoyed. Savvie had been self-conscious about her weight when we’d met, had still been hung up about it despite my not-too-obvious-because-we-were-only-friends reassurances that she was beautiful regardless of her dress size. Whether she was still hung up about it or not, she’d obviously turned her insecurities to her advantage.

  The fact that I didn’t even know for sure rattled. Badly.

  Her other insecurities had been a little harder to overcome. My suspicion that it was one of those that had led her to hitch herself to Idiot Dan was one I’d never delved into.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to now.

  ‘That was the deal,’ I replied, shying away from admitting to myself that I was looking forward to dinner. That my irritation was taking a back seat to the need to stay...a little bit longer.

  The return journey in the lift was much less strained, although I was still aware of every shift and slide of her body, every rise and fall of her chest.

  Outside, she paused, resting her hands on my car’s roof as she stared at me. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘What are you in the mood for?’ Fucking hell. Really? I adjusted myself as my body reacted to that suggestive line of questioning.

  Her smile was wicked. ‘I get to choose where we eat?’

  I stopped my lips from twitching. ‘Within reason.’

  The tiniest pout plumped her lips. ‘Well, I had sushi for lunch so anything but Japanese is fine with me.’

  I nodded. ‘Get in.’

  Her smile widened as she slid into the passenger seat. ‘Are you going to tell me or is it a surprise?’

  She loved surprises. And I was getting carried away. ‘We’re going to Tetsuya’s. I’m in the process of poaching their head chef for my restaurant at The Sylph when it opens. He cooks prime steak the way you like it. Unless your tastes have changed?’ I added, reminding myself I was no longer privy to her likes and dislikes. Except maybe how she liked her nipples to be played with. How she liked her pussy licked.

  Christ.

  Oblivious to my struggles, she hummed happily, not reacting to the fact that I hadn’t forgotten the way she liked her food, whereas I was kicking myself for letting it slip.

  ‘Nope, I’m still a raging carnivore. Can we order ahead?’ she said impatiently as she adjusted the seat belt between her breasts.

  I tried not to stare at the perfection of her full breasts or recall how the dark pink tips had tasted in my mouth. ‘Not without causing grievous offence, having my name scrubbed permanently off the guest list and possibly losing a potential head chef.’

  She mock groaned and leaned back against the headrest. ‘Of course, you’d have to pick one of those restaurants.’

  I hid another smile. ‘I can just as easily get you a pizza from a street vendor if you prefer?’

  She made a cute moue. ‘You’ve dangled Tetsuya’s and the wondrous talents of your soon-to-be chef in front of me. You can’t take it back now.’

  Traffic was relatively light and I glanced over when we stopped at a red light on Raffles Avenue. Her eyes were closed but the fingers drumming lightly on her thigh told me she wasn’t asleep. A closer look showed faint signs of strain.

  I curbed the concern nudging me. As I’d reminded her several times now, we were no longer the people we used to be. The people we imagined we knew. Best to treat this dinner as good client liaison and place distance between any possibility of rekindling false friendships.

  And yet words tripped onto my tongue anyway. ‘Tough day?’

  Her long lashes swept up before dark gold eyes locked with mine. ‘You could say that. Opening a new store is a hard work. Multiply that times ten for a flagship store and dealing with demands from investors...’ She shrugged, but the trace of anxiety on her face remained.

  A moment later, her gaze shifted and the look disappeared, wiped clean with a hard brush of studied composure.

  I focused on the road, ignoring the part of me that hated the barrier she’d put up. ‘It’s not your first flagship opening though, is it?’

  ‘No, but I have a new set of shareholders who like to poke their noses into how I run things. I miss the days of not answering to anyone but myself.’

  The moment the words left her mouth, she tensed. From the corner of my eye I saw her gaze dart to me and, try as I could, I couldn’t stop my teeth from clenching in quiet fury.

  She’d once been completely autonomous, the majority shareholder who called the shots in her own business until her money-grabbing ex had pushed her into rapid expansion that had almost cost her everything. Luckily, she’d seen the light in time to avoid major catastrophe. She’d divorced him, but not without parting with a large chunk of what she’d worked so hard for. According to a financial article I’d read a while ago, she was now in a fifty-fifty partnership with a Singaporean consortium.

  ‘Are you ever not going to be pissed off with me about that?’ she asked, her voice low and husky.

  I saw an opening on the floodlit avenue in front of me and stepped on the gas, needing the extra horsepower to dissipate some of my anger. ‘Not any time soon, rosebud.’ I didn’t see the need to add I was more furious with her ex than with her. That once or twice I’d wondered if I could’ve done things differently. The jury was still out...

  She grimaced. ‘Would it help at all if I said it was my life and I’m entitled to live it as I see fit?’

  I exhaled. ‘If it’s your life then whether I’m pissed off or not doesn’t matter, does it?’ I pulled into the parking space in front of the restaurant and applied the brakes with more force than necessary.

  Before I could exit she placed her hand on my arm. ‘If the chef is as good as you say he is, then, like our lunch, I don’t want to invite indigestion with this thing between us.’

  I dragged the heel of my hand across my eyes. ‘Let’s make a deal to not talk about him or the past during dinner.’

  A wave of emotion flitted across her face. ‘The past is a huge chunk of our lives, Bryce. And for the most part, I liked what you and I had.’

  For the most part. The light and frivolous parts that didn’t matter.

  Frustration bit me hard. ‘Fine. Then we’ll find something else.’

  ‘Like what?’

  I cast around for a subject that wasn’t volatile. I came up with nothing besides an old...dangerous favourite. ‘Truth or Dare. You got to play last time, albeit atrociously. I think it’s my turn.’

  Her hand dropped from my forearm, the look on her face a cross between anticipation and apprehension. If this ended anywhere like it had last time, we’d be straying into dangerous territory. But, fuck it if now I’d put it out there I was going to take it back.

  I threw my door open and glanced at her. ‘So, you coming?’

  The reaction I wanted arrived in a millisecond in a form of a challenging toss of her head. ‘Hold your horses. I’m coming.’

  Our table was one of the best in the house. Semi private and ambient but with enough of the see-and-be-seen vibe that normally appealed to me. But tonight, too many male gazes veered to Savvie. And stayed on her once they recognised who it was they were staring at.

  Even before the sommelier approached with menus, my mood was spiralling downward with an emotion I wincingly recognised as jealousy.

  I yanked it back long enough to discuss wine choices, not surprised when Savvie went for her favourite Chilean Pinot Blanc. Our waiter arrived soon after that and I felt the tug of a smile when Savvie asked for the quickest starter on the menu.

  Five minutes later, she was moaning in ecstasy as she tucked into a small plate of calamari dipped in creamy tartare sauce.

  God, she was so predictable in many ways.

  And shockingly unpredictable in the worst, most important way.

  Enough. Let it go.

  But no amount of admonishing myself would free that knot of arctic fury and disappointment in my chest.

  ‘You’re doing that thing with your mouth again, Bryce,’ she murmured.

  I frowned. ‘What thing?’

  ‘That thing you do when you’re disgruntled.’ She set her wine glass down firmly on the table, her eyes fixed on mine. ‘If this was a bad idea—’

  ‘You’re hungry. We’re having dinner. End of.’

  After a moment, she nodded. ‘Okay. But before we get to your games, I have a neutral subject to discuss.’

  The back of my neck tingled. ‘Yes?’<
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  ‘I heard Gideon got married.’

  I relaxed. My brother’s engagement and subsequent wedding had taken everyone by surprise, not least the man himself. But so far, he and his new wife hadn’t killed each other yet, which was great, I guessed. I liked Leonie a lot, but I wasn’t holding my breath because, well...she’d married a Mortimer and we were notorious for being bad at matrimony despite our impressive clan numbers. If they proved me wrong and lasted a year, or more, so be it.

  I nodded. ‘Yep. He was supposed to lease a yacht to close a business deal. He ended up buying the vessel and marrying the owner.’

  Her smile widened, her beautiful eyes glinting. ‘That must have shocked Aunt Flo’s hair white.’

  ‘Especially when he was supposed to be on some sort of sex ban.’

  She laughed, a warm sound that washed over me in ways I didn’t want but couldn’t help absorb. ‘What?’

  I mock shuddered. ‘Don’t ask me the details. I didn’t want to know then, I’m even less interested now.’

  She laughed again. ‘I look forward to hearing it from the horse’s mouth one day.’ She took a sip of wine, then sent me a sober look. ‘So how are things with you two?’

  That tingling recommenced. Any and everything to do with my family had always been a touchy subject. In the past Savvie had heeded the no trespassing signs. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this interested side of her. ‘You want to know if we’re bosom buddies now he’s married?’

  She toyed with the stem of her glass. ‘Maybe not bosom buddies but...are you?’

  ‘Answer is...we’re better. He reached out when he was on the yacht and we’ve seen each once or twice since his wedding.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Her face grew serious. ‘And your sister?’

  ‘Graciela passed through on her way to Australia for some PR assignment for TMG. I took her out to lunch. That was a few months ago. I haven’t seen any members of my family since. Is the interrogation over?’