Bound by Their Love

by Nicole Flockton

  Heather turned and walked out of the bathroom. Greta quickly washed her face and slipped off her blouse. Luckily her jacket was clean. She’d just finished fixing her hair when Heather walked back into the bathroom, blouse in hand.

  ‘Here you go.’

  Greta turned, took the blouse from Heather and slipped her arms into it. ‘So, do I pass muster now?’ Greta asked, wanting to get her mind off the baby and back onto why she was standing in the bathroom. She had a presentation to give.

  Heather ran a critical eye over her. ‘Yep, you’ll knock them off their feet.’

  ‘I hope so. Let’s go to the boardroom.’

  Heather laughed and held the bathroom door open for her. On the way past Heather’s desk, Greta collected her materials. Glancing at her watch she saw that it was eleven fifteen. She hated being late.

  ‘How did you explain my lateness?’

  ‘I told them that there’d been an incident on your way to the meeting and you needed a few moments to straighten up.’ Heather shrugged. ‘They all understood, and seeing as Mr Courteux has only just arrived, it’s worked out fine. You couldn’t have started the presentation without him in the room anyway.’

  Greta didn’t know what she’d done to deserve to have Heather supporting her, but she was grateful. ‘Thank you, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.’

  ‘Oh no worries, us girls have to stick together. Besides, I want you to win the account.’

  ‘From your lips to their ears. I’d love to work on this account.’ They stopped outside the door. ‘Do you have any last minute tips before I enter the lion’s den?’

  Heather grinned. ‘Mr Courteux hasn’t been impressed with anyone’s campaign as yet, including the other man from your agency. I have a feeling you are just what he needs.’

  Heather opened the door with a flourish.

  Greta strode into the room, a lingering buzz from delivering the baby giving her added confidence. She placed her portfolio case and laptop bag on the table and turned to face the room. Pasting a smile on her face, she looked directly at Luciano Morelli.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Morelli. I’m Greta Adamas and I apologise for being late. If you’ll give me a few minutes I’ll have everything ready.’ She started to pull out her presentation boards and laptop. ‘As your assistant informed you, I needed to change my blouse. It’s not everyday you get caught in a lift and have to deliver a baby.’

  Greta turned to the other people in the room and gave a short laugh at seeing the shocked expressions on their faces.

  She assessed the people seated at the table. She nodded her head at her father’s assistant and a young intern. Opposite them was an attractive woman and a man dressed in an impeccably cut suit. She recognised him as Nick Bishop, Luciano Morelli’s business partner. A movement toward the back of the room diverted her attention.

  Stepping out of the shadows was the last person she expected to see. Wearing a dark suit and dark glasses, he commanded the attention of the others in the room. She would know those glasses anywhere.

  What the hell was Jeff Court doing in this meeting?

  As he pulled his sunglasses off and placed them in his top pocket, realisation struck. The person she’d spent an illicit afternoon with, the person she knew as Jeff Court, wasn’t Jeff Court at all. He was the one and only elusive jewellery designer, Jeffrey Courteux. How had she not made the connection the day they met? It was so obvious to her now. If she hadn’t let her emotions take away her sense she would’ve worked it out when he’d said his name.

  She was so screwed.

  Jeffrey saw the moment Greta worked out his true identity. The colour leached from her face and she swayed on her feet. He thought for a moment she was going to faint. The minute she’d walked into the room, he’d known exactly who would be presenting the campaign.

  He moved toward her, ignoring the inquisitive look from both Luc and Nick as he walked past them. At all the other presentations, he’d taken a seat next to Luc and hadn’t said a word to anyone.

  ‘Good morning, Ms Adamas. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ He held out his hand as her eyes widened in surprise. She took his hand and warmth coursed through him. Filling all the empty spaces inside of him.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr Courteux.’ Her eyes never left his and he found himself drowning in them. Sparks of anger lit their depths. He smiled. He couldn’t help himself.

  She raised an eyebrow when she went to pull her hand away. Daring him to say something. He tightened his hold a fraction before letting it go.

  He went and sat next to Luc, disregarding the way his friend eyed him. Asking him silently what the hell that had been all about. He shrugged his shoulders. Luc didn’t need to know his business.

  Greta started speaking, her words washing over him. He concentrated on watching her mouth move, and imagined it on his body. When she asked him questions, he said all the right things. He had to admit her campaign was different from any they’d seen. It was bold and risky, just like her. He knew Luc probably wouldn’t go for it.

  Tough. It was his jewellery line.

  ‘Do you happen to have a sample of your new collection here today, Mr Courteux? I’d really like to see it.’ He enjoyed the way Greta said his name.

  She was the first person to ask if he had any pieces with him. The other ad executives had said their spiel and answered the questions Luc asked. Jeffrey had suspected they wanted to ask the same question, but seemed unwilling to approach him. He was first to admit he’d been an arrogant arse and had kept his glasses on. He liked the untouchable stance they gave him.

  Kudos to Greta for, again, being bold and different. He knew she was challenging him too.

  ‘Is it necessary to see some of the new pieces, Ms Adamas?’ Luc spoke before Jeffrey had a chance to respond. He bit back a grin at the way Greta bristled at Luc’s tone.

  ‘With all due respect, Mr Morelli, yes, it is necessary. While I’m confident my campaign can deliver everything you and Mr Courteux want, being able to see the new pieces means I can give you some fresh ideas on the best ways to tempt the consumer into wanting to buy a piece.’

  Jeffrey watched Luc as Greta spoke; he could see the moment Luc appreciated her response. Luc was always all about business and Greta was all business. She’d won him over.

  That’s my girl.

  Luc gave a nod and turned to him. ‘Jeff?’

  ‘Yes, I happen to have some pieces here.’ He heard the murmur of excitement from her colleagues seated at the table. He stood and went through a door into Luc’s office. He took a couple of deep breaths before he picked the pieces up. He knew he would have to control the urge to touch Greta. She’d haunted him since their time together.

  ‘Are you okay, Jeff?’

  Jeffrey turned to see Luc standing in the doorway. ‘Yes, why wouldn’t I be?’

  Luc gave a negligent shrug of his shoulder. ‘You tell me. You’ve been different through this whole meeting. Why?’

  ‘No reason, I like her ideas.’

  ‘Hmmm, I think there’s more to it.’ Luc put on his take-no-prisoners look. ‘This is an important venture for the Morelli Corporation, I don’t want anything to jeopardise it.’

  Jeffrey had been friends with Luc for years. He didn’t appreciate the threatening undertone of his words. ‘Yes, and just remember whose collection it is. It’s mine, Luc, not yours. I can decide to show it, or let you sell it in your hotels. Not you.’

  Luc laughed. ‘Point taken. I’m glad to see your eye is still on business.’

  ‘Always.’ Jeffrey collected the boxes. ‘Right, I think we’ve kept them waiting long enough. Let’s go.’

  He brushed past his friend and walked back into the room. Greta turned to look at him, and for an instant he saw the undisguised desire shining in her eyes. It was masked quickly with a blink of her eyes. It didn’t matter to him. He’d seen it and that’s all that mattered.

  ‘I think there’s way more than business goin
g on here.’ Luc murmured as he made his way back to his seat at the table. Jeffrey chose to ignore the jibe.

  He walked up to the table, placing the boxes on the table. He was standing close to Greta. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the feeling of her being in his orbit again.

  ‘May I?’ She almost whispered the words in his ears.

  He turned his head. If he wanted to, he could lean forward and take her lips with his. As if reading his mind her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. He swallowed a groan. The need to taste her again threatened to unravel him. However, conscious of the people in the room, he took a step back. He reached down and handed the box containing the ankle cuff to her.

  Their fingertips touched as she took it from him. He waited to see her reaction as she opened the box. Hoping against hope she liked what she saw. Usually he never saw people’s reactions to his pieces. He was commissioned to design and make them. The designs went back and forth between him and his agent and the clients. He knew that whenever they received their pieces, they didn’t dare complain. They wanted to own a Jeffrey Courteux design and flaunt the piece among their friends.

  ‘Oh, this is exquisite.’

  Seeing Greta caress the piece in the box had his body tightening in memory of her fingers stroking him.

  ‘Thank you.’ What he really itched to do was take the piece out of the box and place it around her ankle. The ankle he’d designed it for.

  ‘These pieces need to be worn by models when the collection is launched. There’s no way people can appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship when these pieces are locked away behind glasses cases.’

  ‘No, it would be security a nightmare.’ Luc immediately responded to Greta’s idea.

  ‘How so, Mr Morelli? Bodyguards dressed in tuxedos trailing the models? Are you telling me the people invited to the opening night are the sort of people who would steal the pieces?’

  Jeffrey couldn’t help but laugh. ‘She’s got you there, Luc. I like the idea. I think it could work.’

  Greta inclined her head, acknowledging his support. ‘Thank you. Now, here are some other ideas.’

  As Greta outlined more of what she could do for the collection, the more Jeffrey was convinced she was the right person to handle the account. Convincing Luc might be a different story. Jeffrey shifted his gaze to Nick, his other good friend, to see what his reaction was. Nick’s attention was fixed on his assistant, Pamela, sitting beside him. There was something in Nick’s look. Something he’d only seen once before. On the man who flanked him on the left side, Luc. Luc had looked at Jasmine the same way.

  Interesting, it looked like another of his friends had succumbed to the love bug. Jeffrey turned his focus back to Greta, pondering what might have been if things had been different in Broome. If they’d parted on a better note.

  He immediately squashed the thoughts of love. Lust was what he felt for Greta. He imagined he could spend a few weeks slaking that lust and then moving on. He didn’t do long-term. He’d learned long ago, when he’d almost lost his life. Love wasn’t for him.

  Ever.

  Chapter 8

  Greta couldn’t help it. Her eyes kept flicking to the boxes sitting at the far end of the table. The presentation had gone unbelievably well. Even after the shock of seeing who Jeffrey Courteux really was. She’d expected him to come up to her after the meeting, but he was talking to Luciano.

  Her father’s assistant approached her. ‘Your dad would’ve been impressed with your presentation. It was a great idea to ask if the designer had any pieces to show you. They were absolutely beautiful. I loved your ideas for exhibiting them at the opening.’

  Greta loved her father’s assistant. She knew Joan was trying to make her feel better about her father’s lack of ap

  pearance. ‘Thanks, it would’ve been nice for him to show up. But I’ve learned not to expect much from him. If I win this account, he’ll have to notice me.’

  ‘I have no doubt. Umm,’ Joan’s attention darted away quickly, before returning to Greta. ‘I have to speak to someone, excuse me.’

  Not giving her a chance to respond, Joan went toward the front of the room.

  ‘You were amazing, Angel.’

  Greta took a few seconds to compose herself before facing Jeff. She slipped her presentation papers in her case and turned to face him. ‘Thank you, Mr Courteux. I’m pleased you liked the presentation.’

  ‘Mr Courteux? So formal.’

  Formal was the only way she could handle the situation she now found herself in. ‘I can’t refer to you as Mr Court, can I? Seeing as that’s not your name.’

  ‘But it is my name, sort of. Just a shortened version.’

  ‘Apples and oranges. The fact remains you weren’t entirely truthful with me.’

  Jeff ran a hand through his hair, leaving some strands sticking up. Greta’s fingers itched to smooth it down. She remembered the silky feel of his hair. The way she’d gripped his head when he’d been kissing her.

  Her body shuddered and there was nothing she could do to stop it. God, she wanted to feel him fill her again. Take over her body and craft it into supplication, like he’d crafted the gorgeous pieces of jewellery on the table.

  ‘It was your ankle I imagined that ankle cuff surrounding when I designed it, Angel.’ Jeff’s words whispered over her.

  ‘Don’t.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t do this, Jeff. It won’t work.’

  ‘What won’t work? I haven’t been able to forget you for the last month. Every time I close my eyes I see you. I want you.’

  Greta unconsciously swayed toward him. Wanting to be held in his arms again. She wanted to say yes. Yes, to everything he said. But she couldn’t. If she did, a part of her would be lost. It had only taken one touch last time for her to forget all about the reason for her trip to Broome.

  Standing straighter, she took a step away. ‘Well, I don’t want you.’

  Jeff laughed. ‘Liar.’

  The sound of raised voices at the other end of the room had her turning around quickly. Her father’s assistant looked like she was about to faint and Luciano’s business partner, Nick, had a face like thunder.

  ‘What the hell just happened?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I need to find out.’ Jeff answered, before striding off.

  Making sure she had everything, she made her way toward Joan. Greta could see the woman who had been sitting next to Nick talking to Joan. As she approached, she could see both women were deep in conversation. Perhaps it was best to leave Joan in the other woman’s capable hands. She’d had a hell of day already and didn’t need an emotional female on her hands. As callous as it sounded, she wanted to escape the situation she found herself in and take some time to regroup. To work through exactly what seeing Jeff again meant.

  ‘Don’t go yet.’ Jeff said, as he materalised by her side again. Why couldn’t he just leave her the hell alone?

  ‘I have to get back to the office. I missed the whole morning and I’ll have a lot to catch up on.’

  ‘Ahh, yes, you said something about delivering a baby, didn’t you?’

  Greta heard the speculation in his voice and she didn’t like it.

  ‘Are you suggesting I made it up, Mr Courteux?’

  He laughed softly. ‘No, I’m not suggesting that at all. But you have to admit, if you’d heard someone declare the reason they were late was because they’d delivered a baby, it would sound suspicious.’

  She couldn’t deny there was some truth in his words. It didn’t mean she couldn’t still be offended that he’d doubted her.

  ‘I suppose so, but I don’t lie.’

  Greta held her breath as Jeff took a step closer to her, running a finger down her arm. ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, and glanced at her watch. ‘I need to go.’

  His hand curled around her arm, halting her attempt to walk away. ‘Have dinner with me.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ Memories
of a previous conversation, where the same words were uttered, filtered through her mind. She couldn’t let herself be talked into dinner this time. ‘We don’t have a great track record when it comes to sharing a meal together, do we?’

  Jeff went to pull her closer. Twisting her arm, she broke away from his hold and took a step back. She couldn’t let Joan or the intern see Jeff touching her.

  ‘Please, Angel. Let’s have dinner and talk.’

  Greta knew he wouldn’t give up until she caved. If she was honest with herself, dinner sounded like the perfect way to end the day.

  ‘Fine. Call me at the office. I’m sure Heather, Luciano’s assistant, has the number for the agency.

  With that she turned and walked out of the room, not sure she wanted to return.

  Greta collapsed in her office chair after returning from a late lunch, wishing she was home on her couch. She looked at the pile of messages sitting in a neat stack on her desk and dreaded opening her computer. Her phone had been buzzing with incoming emails and text messages on the cab ride back to the office and while she grabbed some food. She’d ignored them all.

  She looked up as her door opened and almost screamed in frustration at the person standing in the doorframe.

  Yes, her day could get worse.

  ‘What do you want, Graham?’

  He slunk into her office, like the slime ball that he was, and sat down. She was surprised he hadn’t left a slime trail. ‘Thought I’d check in to see how your presentation went. I heard you were late. Tsk tsk, not a good way to make a first impression.’

  Everything in her wanted to slap the smile off his face. Greta restrained herself. Giving in to his attempts to get a rise out of her wasn’t on her agenda today.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what you think. Anyway, we’ll know in a couple of days who the account will be awarded to. Who knows, maybe neither of us will win it. Maybe another agency will get the account.’

  Please let me be wrong. Please let me win the account. Even if it means I have to see Jeff on a regular basis.