‘You’re about to get one, and you proved yourself so efficient at getting ready last night,’ he cocks an eyebrow, ‘that you should have an hour or so to yourself before meeting me.’
I chew the inside of my mouth but say nothing. He doesn’t know I need extra time to let the migraine tablets take effect. ‘Fine. But before I go, I need to talk to you about something and I owe you—’
‘An apology?’ He massages the back of his neck, as if feeling my pain, like conjoined twins. ‘We seem to be having this conversation regularly, don’t we?’
I flush. ‘I’m not usually so argumentative. I shouldn’t have called you cynical. I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, well, I’m sorry if I lost my cool. You’re right. I am cynical – whereas you’re an optimist. We both have strong opinions and we’re not likely to agree on this particular point so I think we should agree to disagree.’ A strange look passes over his face, as if he’s made a decision. ‘Let’s just see the assignment through as quickly as possible.’
The headache intensifies. ‘Sounds good to me.’ It doesn’t. I should be wishing for the weekend to be over with as much as him but the thought he wants rid of me is appalling. Then I’m appalled that I’m appalled.
His phone vibrates inside his trouser pocket and he plucks it out, going pasty white at whatever is on screen.
‘Alex, are you okay?’
‘Pardon?’ He gazes at me blankly, black eyebrows pulling together.
‘You look awful. Maybe you should sit down for a minute.’
‘I’m fine,’ he says swiftly, but sways like a tall tree in a high-force gale. I think of Alex as solid and strong, but right now he’s vulnerable.
‘You’re plainly not.’ Ignoring my headache, I grab his elbow and jerk him towards a chair about seven feet away.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He tries to pull his arm free but I hold tight, hooking my fingers into his silky, expensive shirt.
‘Helping. You look like you’re about to fall over.’
‘I don’t need anyone’s help.’ But his deep voice is hoarse. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘Sit down,’ I insist. Spinning around to swap our positions, I shove at his chest lightly, slowly backing him towards the chair. Five feet to go.
‘I said I’m fine!’
‘Did you get bad news?’ I say softy, pushing his chest again, trying not to accidentally grope what feel like glorious pecs. He steps back. Four feet. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
He looks at me oddly. ‘What would you be able to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ But the energy he directs at the question allows me to push him another foot or so backward. Getting there. I shiver. He’s so gorgeous, even more so when he’s off-balance. It’s not fair how attractive he is in his formal shirt and tie, his body so close I swear I feel its core temperature. ‘But I’d try,’ I say desperately to distract myself. ‘I’m just offering—’
He huffs. ‘Well, I don’t need you. Stop offering and go away. Go and get ready or something.’
‘No.’ I press my other hand against his chest and press again. Two feet. Nearly there. ‘Look, I’m not trying to be difficult—’
‘Seriously?’ He rocks out a laugh that does funny things to my knees. ‘You’ve done nothing but present me with difficulties!’
‘Thanks a lot!’ I give him a final shove borne of frustration and, of course, he chooses that minute to cooperate. He lands squarely in the chair and the momentum carries me forward. I stumble and end up sprawled on top of him, bum on his hard lap, hands clinging onto his shoulders for balance.
‘Oh,’ I squeak.
‘Oh,’ he echoes.
We lock eyes, his pupils dilating. His gaze drops down to my mouth. ‘You’re really quite beautiful you know,’ he says huskily.
The rumble of his voice, reverberating through his broad chest and against my breasts, strikes a chord in my misbehaving body. He thinks I’m beautiful!
It’s a mere sparkle of thought, because I squirm on his thighs and his hands clench on my hips … and he jams his mouth down on mine.
The kiss is demanding and rough and he curves an arm around my back to yank me closer. I know he’s taking his frustrations out on me but I’m not scared in the way I would be if it were Tony. The fear goes deeper as warmth spins inside me. It’s not fear about my physical safety; it’s about guarding my heart.
I pull away but really don’t have anywhere to go, lying across his lap with his arms wrapped round me. ‘What are you doing?’ I choke into his mouth.
He lifts his head just enough to hear the words and confusion clouds his face. ‘I’m not sure,’ he admits. I expect him to let me go but he kisses me again and it’s not rough any more. It’s how every girl longs to be kissed for the first time; slow and sweet and sexy. It’s much worse than his misplaced anger. More dangerous. I try to fight it but it’s useless. I hold out for all of two seconds then breathe in his fresh scent and become aware of the smooth texture of his shirt where my hands have moved to his taut upper back. I can feel the hot muscles shift under my palms. The heat of his solid body presses into mine, chest to knee, and the sound of our heavy breathing and the way his thumb rubs along my jaw slays me. I give in. I melt. I can’t think, only feel, gripping onto him to stop from slipping off his lap and flowing into a puddle at his feet. Raging warmth spreads through me. Embarrassingly I let out a kind of half moan, half squeak, and the pressure of his mouth increases. He groans in response and the kiss gets slower and steamier.
Taking out my hair band, he runs gentle fingers through my waves and all traces of a headache fade. Tingles zing along my spine as one of his hands drops to cup my bum. He stands, lifting and putting me on the edge of the meeting table. The glass is cool beneath my thighs through my tights as my skirt hitches up. He crowds closer, flexes his fingers on my bum, prompting an answering tug between my legs. Woah! I gasp and grab fistfuls of his thick dark hair as the kiss goes on and on, gaining energy and spark. His hips press between my thighs and it’s obvious he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Take me now, I think foggily as he lifts his head. Maybe I say it out loud, I’m not sure. Either that or he’s a mind reader.
‘Here. Now,’ he mutters gruffly into my neck.
In that instant I almost say Oh, yes please. I don’t care as long as this feeling carries on. I don’t give a monkey’s if someone sees us.
Huh? Hang on a second.
I freeze as the extent of my desperation hits, like a bucket of ice cubes has been tipped down my back. This is so wrong. How would it look if I was caught on the table with the boss? More importantly, what will Alex think? If I do this with him, he might believe I did the same with Tony.
What on earth am I thinking? What happened to asking Alex to help me out of a hole? Getting my life back? That’s the problem. I wasn’t thinking.
I wrench my mouth from his, tug my hands from his hair. ‘No,’ I croak and my body, the traitor, is screaming to stop being so stupid, to get back in there, to strip his shirt off and unzip his trousers and enjoy this one mad moment. ‘I said no.’ I’m talking as much to myself as him.
‘No?’ Alex stares at me, luscious mouth damp and red from our kisses, hair standing up in spikes from my passionate tugging.
‘No.’ Pressing his chest, I slide off the table and smooth my skirt down. I swear it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But necessary. ‘You’re my boss.’ Grabbing the band from his hand, I twist my curls into a bun.
The dazed look in his blue eyes lifts, replaced by something else. Backing away, he stalks across the room and slides his suit jacket on. ‘The fact I’m your boss,’ he coolly does the buttons up, ‘didn’t seem to present a problem when you were hanging on to me and whimpering.’
I gape at him. Arrogant sod. ‘I was not whimpering.’ Was I? ‘You took me by surprise, that’s all.’
‘Did I also take you by surprise this morning by the pool? Is that why you tried to
kiss me then?’
Anger ignites from a spark to a raging fire. ‘I told you the reason that happened. Is this what you’re like when you don’t get your own way. You go on the attack?’
He laughs, ‘Attack? You’re giving me too much credit. I’m just pointing out the truth.’
When he moves to his laptop and carelessly starts shutting it down, the dismissal drives me over the edge. Humiliation mixes with fury in a whoosh of adrenalin along with a healthy dose of bitterness and regret. If it wasn’t for one of his employees, I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in now.
‘I can take the truth! So you should be able to as well. The truth is it was inappropriate for you to kiss me. You made,’ a move on me first, is the intended sentence but his head jerks back.
‘That’s enough.’ His eyes are dark, flat like a shark’s, generous lips compressed.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. The anger and disappointment, the raw contempt making me shudder. Shit.
He picks up the laptop. ‘I suggest you think carefully before you finish your accusation, if you’re building up to a sexual harassment claim. I shouldn’t have kissed you, you’re right. I wish I hadn’t. But let’s not lie. The heat was mutual. And I won’t let anyone say I’d make any woman do anything she wouldn’t want to. Especially a member of staff.’
Dismay hits. It’s the worst thing he could think. Cringing, ‘I don’t mean that, I’d never—’
‘Save it,’ he interrupts, ‘I’m not interested.’
God, what a mess. He actually thinks I’m trying to build a case when I’m trying to do the opposite. As he sails to the door, I rush after him. ‘No. No way. You’re not just going to walk out. I did not accuse you of sexual harassment and I wasn’t about to. Okay?’ I grab his arm. ‘Alex. Alex! Look at me!’
He glances over his shoulder, hand on the door handle.
‘I want to be completely clear. It was mutual. But I was going to say you made a move on me first. Not that you made me do something I didn’t want to. I just can’t get involved, all right? I can’t.’ I lower my voice, ‘It’s not about you.’
‘It’s not you, it’s me?’ he says sarcastically. ‘How original.’
‘I know it’s a cliché, but yes. Believe it. You said yourself I’m honest with you, tell you what I think, so why I would I lie about this?’
He stares at my face, eyes softening. Blows out a hard, fast breath. ‘Okay, I’m sorry I jumped on you about it. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have ignored my own policy. Truce. Let’s forget it ever happened. I will.’ He yanks open the door, gives me a shadow of a smile. ‘I’ll see you at the party.’
After he leaves, I stand in the middle of the room, recalling his knowing touch, his incredible kissing, his hot, hard body. But it’s his words that keep boomeranging back on me the most. I wish I hadn’t kissed you.
I should be relieved.
Instead I feel lost, when I have absolutely no right to.
Chapter Thirteen
‘You kissed him?’ Jess shrieks down the phone. ‘And it was amazing?’
Sometimes a girl needs her best friend, even if the bill is going to be astronomical and you might have to sell possessions to pay for it. Oh, God. This is going to give her so much ammunition. ‘He kissed me first, but yes, amazing, like you wouldn’t believe.’ I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. Ironic, given Alex wants to forget all about it. But I’ve never felt that intense rolling need and heat in the pit of my stomach before, which even now won’t go away. A need that’s making me twitchy and restless. ‘But I had to stop,’ I sigh. ‘It’s just too complicated. I mean, what is it with me and this guy? It wasn’t bad enough he overheard me on the phone to you yesterday? That I’m deceiving him? I’m a disaster zone. What’s wrong with me?’
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I grab hold of the floor-length hem of my electric-blue dress to make sure it doesn’t get caught in my strappy black stilettos.
‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ she chuckles. ‘This is an area you’re understandably sensitive about. Before you say it, I know he doesn’t know that yet, but he will, and he’ll get it, I’m sure. And the other thing, well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Like I said last night, you fancy him. But not just that.’
‘Oh?’
‘You like him,’ she says in a sing-song voice. ‘It’s the fireworks they talk about in films and books. Chemistry.’ The last remark holds the shadow of regret, but neither of us says anything. We both know she’s thinking about Tom. ‘Think about your reaction,’ she picks up the thread. ‘How often do you get so mega clumsy and mess up so much around a guy? How often do you go against your sensible side and kiss someone you hardly know? Never.’
I can’t argue. She’s right.
‘Uh-huh,’ I answer miserably. ‘So what do I do? And why aren’t you using the opportunity to lecture me about it after you told me not to do this?’
‘It’s a bit late for that now, and as you pointed out yesterday, I love you.’ Her tone becomes brisk. ‘Now, get some perspective. Take a step back and think it through. You can either ignore the chemistry, or do something about it.’
‘I guess so.’
‘You just have to be prepared to accept the consequences of whichever one you go with,’ she finishes.
‘All right, I get it! I’m not one of your key-stage-three kids. Honestly, why I put up with you.’ We both know my grumbling is good-natured. Her directness always comes from a kind place and I value it. It’s funny Alex thinks I’m opinionated. If he met Jess, he’d think me practically mute in comparison. Argh, why does it always go back to him? I shake my head, smooth my hand over the bed covers, spreading out the wrinkles.
‘Well?’ she demands.
‘Don’t worry, oh wise one. I will humbly follow in your enlightened footsteps.’
‘Very funny. So now I’ve shared my wisdom what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to do what he wants – forget about it. Then try and lay my hands on a padlocked chastity belt.’
‘Well, good luck with that,’ Jess laughs. ‘Whilst you wrestle with your libido I’ll be on another date with Jake, and I’m thinking it’s going to be a late night.’
I smile. Jess has always been able to pull me from the blackest of moods, even when we were teenagers and mood swings were a daily battle. ‘Okay, I’ll let you go then. See you Monday evening?’
‘Maybe, maybe not. It depends. I might see Jake on Monday night. If he manages to keep me entertained sufficiently for the next thirty-six hours.’
I shake my head. ‘Just do me a favour, text me on Monday so I know what your plans are, that you’re safe?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
I huff. ‘Just promise you’ll take care of yourself.’
‘I will.’
Ten minutes later I stride into the lobby, searching for Alex. I’m running a little behind, on the phone with Jess longer than planned. I can’t see him, and wait around for a while before going to the reception desk and asking if he’s left a message for me.
‘There was a gentleman here a while ago, Señorita,’ the moustached man says in a heavy Spanish accent, straightening a pile of papers on the desk, ‘but he left. Maybe he has gone to the function room in the basement?’
‘Thank you. If he comes looking for me can you tell him where I’ve gone please?’ The basement? Sounds interesting.
‘Of course.’ He nods.
‘Thanks.’
Clicking straight from the lift into a massive nightclub, I pause. What a place. I’m impressed by the modern art-deco mirrors and spinning lights, red and black paintings and sofas contrasting with the white moulded walls, red cushioned stools at the long bar. Nice. There’s a table heaving with food in the far corner and pink cocktails are being held aloft by waiters and given out indiscriminately. Moving closer, I smile at a brunette waitress and scoop one up. Taking a sip, ‘Mmm, Cosmo,’ I murmur, savouring the sweetness of fruit rounded off by the citrus
tang. Perfect.
It’s two hours before I spot Alex in the heaving mass and by then the food’s been tidied away, I’ve had three cocktails and have shouted-talked at loads of people I don’t know. The party is pounding. It’s in the drunken dancing (mostly out of time with the throbbing beat), the squash of people at the bar, the yelled conversations above the music and the stuffiness of the room caused by shared body heat.
‘Ooh, there’s Alex,’ I blurt to the woman I’m talking to, a pretty girl with a beauty spot on her cheekbone, wearing a short black dress. I don’t know who she is, nor does it matter. We’ve spent the last twenty minutes admiring each other’s shoes and dresses.
‘That gorgeous creature?’ she yells in my ear. ‘Go get him.’
Grimacing, ‘It’s not really like that.’ But sweat prickles along my upper lip as I take in how tall, dark and knicker-meltingly handsome he is in his tux. What is it about men in tuxes? The James Bond effect?
She stares at me, arching a well-plucked eyebrow. ‘No. Of course it isn’t,’ she mouths into my ear in an amused tone.
I laugh. ‘Have a good night. Nice to meet you.’
‘You too.’ The woman is forgotten as I hotfoot it across the room, staring at Alex. Dodging damp, bouncing bodies, I pray no one will step on the hem of my dress.
‘Alex, there you are,’ I shout above the music, reeling when he turns and a wave of alcohol fumes hits full force, nearly taking me out. I move closer to hear him.
‘Charley. Where’ve you been? You’re late,’ he growls, the sugary sweet smell of drink wafting off him. How much has he had? I thought he’d stay sober for company social events. He’s mentioned his reputation and what people think often enough.
‘I don’t care, I’d wait for her,’ a short, round guy to Alex’s right laughs, leering at me.
‘Yeah, me too,’ another colleague, a tall sharp-faced, red-haired man agrees. ‘What’s your name, love?’
Alex glares at both of them. ‘This is Charley, my temporary PA.’
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 35
