“I do, it’s just…”
“Just?” he prompted.
How did you tell your employer that such a gift was inappropriate without putting his nose out of joint? Especially since she had to inveigle herself into his world more effectively than she had already done if she was to garner any of the information Irene would no doubt be pumping her for soon.
So far Josh had appeared to be exactly what the world expected. Charming, successful, driven—a man who gave 100 percent at all times and expected the same in return. As an employer, Callie couldn’t fault him. In fact, she’d almost begun to wonder if he wasn’t just particularly gifted at reading the market and hadn’t had to resort to corporate espionage to undermine the Palmers.
Josh continued. “You have a strong connection with the picture. Am I wrong?”
Callie drew in a sharp breath at his acuity. “No, you weren’t wrong.”
“Then it’s yours.”
“No. It’s worth far too much.”
“And if I think you’re worth that, and more?”
“I—” She faltered.
“Don’t make a big deal of it, Callie. You liked the painting, I bid on it on your behalf and my bid won.”
He made it sound so simple. She liked the painting, connected to it, therefore it was hers. The fact that the price tag had probably run into five figures had nothing to do with it. Her mind scrambled for logic, suddenly latching on to his very words to give her valid cause to return the picture to him.
“No,” she said firmly. “I can’t accept it. I do identify with the painting, perhaps a bit too much.”
“It upsets you?”
“Yes,” she lied, catching her lower lip between her teeth and biting hard before she changed her mind.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know,” she hurried to say. “And I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. But I’d like to return it to you. Today if possible.”
He didn’t answer at first, then she heard a soft exhalation. “Dinner, my place, six-thirty.”
“But—”
Dinner? With her boss? At his home?
“I’ll see you then. Don’t dress up.”
The rapid-fire beeps indicating a disconnected tone signalled that he’d ended the call. Did she really have to go? Callie replaced her handset in its charging station and walked to the sitting room. Her eyes fixed on the painting. If she really meant to give it back, she would have to.
Callie alighted from her parked car and tucked the rewrapped package firmly under one arm. He’d said not to dress up, but she’d felt the need to make some effort. The floating hand-painted silk panels of her pale emerald sundress swirled around her legs as her feet, clad for once in flats, marched toward Josh’s front door.
When she’d arrived at the entrance to his driveway she’d almost chickened out, telling herself she should have waited until Monday. But, she had to admit, his summons for dinner gave her the perfect opportunity to observe him in a different setting—and she needed to find some grounding in her observations very soon.
The driveway to the mansion was imposing enough with its boxed hedging trimmed to immaculate precision, but the house itself was something else entirely. The twin-arched portico of his home stood austerely before her and an entire squadron of butterflies went into battle formation in her stomach.
Everything was so incredibly perfect. Not a line or even so much as a leaf out of place. He must have a whole fleet of gardeners keeping it all so pristine.
“Are you going to stand out there all day enjoying the garden or did you want to come inside?”
Callie jumped. She hadn’t even heard the front door swing open. She gave Josh a half smile.
“Your gardens are very…” She faltered. “Beautiful,” she finally said.
It was the truth, they were beautiful. But despite their perfection she missed the exuberance of colour and shape she was used to seeing in a spring garden. These precisely clipped hedges and trees lacked something.
Soul. That was it. While there was growth in abundance, there was no life in what she saw. It was as though everything was about appearances and not about personal pleasure.
“But you don’t like them, do you?” Josh leaned against one of the cream-coloured pillars supporting the arches at his front door.
“It’s not that,” Callie said carefully. “They are lovely, just a little too controlled for my liking.”
“And you prefer things more uncontrolled?”
There was a wealth of innuendo in Josh’s tone and Callie felt a flush of warmth rise up her throat and spread through her cheeks. Heavens, she hadn’t blushed in years!
“When there’s a time and place for it, yes.”
Callie lifted her chin and met his gaze full on. His eyes gleamed with humour. He knew he’d embarrassed her with his teasing and he was enjoying it.
It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before. In the office he was driven professionalism all the way. She found it interesting that her first impression, of the outside of his home at least, was exactly the same. A place for everything and everything in its place.
Yet, as something deep inside her unfurled under his amused gaze, she knew much more lay beneath the surface.
“Come inside,” Josh said as he pushed off from the pillar and gestured to the door. “We can have a drink by the pool before dinner.”
Callie took the few steps necessary to close the distance between them and slid the wrapped painting out from under her arm.
“Here, this is yours.”
Josh reached to take the package from her, but paused for a moment before accepting it.
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely.”
He gave a small nod and accepted the packet. Then, with his hand settled on the small of her back as he had done last night, he guided her inside his home.
Callie tried to ignore his closeness and the heated imprint of his hand through the silk of her dress, but it was nearly impossible. Every nerve ending concentrated on that one spot. On the outline of his fingers, on the warmth of his palm. She let go the breath she hadn’t even realised she was holding when he stepped away from her to shut the door.
Dressed casually, he was no less imposing than he was in his standard office attire. He still favoured dark colours, the navy polo shirt hanging loose over jeans whose cut and style screamed designer chic. He wore no cologne today, but his intrinsic male scent still put every hormone in Callie’s body on full alert.
What was she thinking? She was supposed to be spying on the man, not lusting for him.
Josh placed the picture on a sideboard, then continued to guide Callie outdoors to the pool area. As they exited the wide-open French doors to the back of the house, he removed his hand from her back and let her move forward a step or two away from him. She had her hair up again and he found his eyes riveted to the smooth straight line of her neck. A tiny curl had escaped at the edge of her hairline and caressed her nape. His fingers itched to gently wind the tiny strand of hair around them, to see if his touch would cause a shiver to run over her skin.
She walked with a grace that was hard to ignore. The fabric of her dress skimming over the curve of her hips and swaying gently with the totally female movement of her legs as they crossed the tiled expanse of floor. He wondered, not for the first time, if her movements would be as graceful in the bedroom.
Something deep inside him tightened and a flare of heat blossomed at its nucleus. He looked forward to finding out. It would be a pleasure for them both.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked as he held out a cushion-covered, wrought-iron chair for her to sit down on.
“Something cool and nonalcoholic, please.”
Josh was a little surprised. “Sure you don’t want a glass of wine?”
“No, thanks. I never drink alcohol when I’m driving.”
“Wise choice. Fruit punch okay?”
“Sounds delicious.
”
He watched the muscles in the slender line of her throat move as she swallowed imperceptibly. She was nervous. Intriguing. In the office she worked at his side with impeccable efficiency—even last night she’d been the same, despite her obvious annoyance at him taking it for granted that she’d be there with him.
Was it the idea of having returned the painting that made her feel this way, he wondered. Returning a gift was never a particularly easy thing to do. He knew enough about her circumstances to understand why the message the artist had conveyed with a series of skilful brushstrokes would have resonated with her. Any teen who’d been through Irene Palmer’s system had come from tougher backgrounds than most and Callie was very much the poster child for what Irene’s foundations worked to achieve. Reluctantly, he had to hand it to the old bag: she’d got it right with Callie.
Josh reached for a condensation-sweating pitcher on the drinks trolley by their table and poured two glasses of fruit punch.
“Are you driving, too?” Callie asked, with a hint of acerbity, as she accepted her drink.
“No, but I don’t need alcohol to have a good time.”
His words seemed to relax her and her features settled into a smile.
The investigation he’d made into her past was scant on details but he knew, from the confidential file his staff had compiled, that there’d been family problems with drug and alcohol dependency. She’d chosen to walk—or, more precisely, run—away from it, losing herself in the streets of Auckland’s inner city. And despite that, she’d survived. He admired her all the more for making a personal stand when it came to her own choices.
Over their dinner of succulent eye-fillet steaks, baby potatoes and sliced zucchini and capsicum seared on the barbecue, it amused him to have Callie probe carefully about his own past.
“So you were brought up by your mother?” Callie asked.
“Yeah, I was. We lived in Wellington.”
“She must be proud of you.”
“She’s dead,” he answered bluntly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You must miss her very much.” Genuine remorse filled Callie’s eyes.
“Every single day. She died far too young.” Josh didn’t even try to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“You were lucky to have always had her support, though. That kind of thing can never be taken for granted.”
There was a wistfulness in Callie’s voice that pulled him very much into the present.
“You’re right. Sometimes I just need to be reminded of that fact.” Josh forced himself to smile at Callie. “And she would have been proud of me. It was always her greatest wish to see me succeed.”
A light sea breeze wafted across the air, bringing a cool change to the evening.
“Come on, let’s go inside for dessert and coffee. It’s getting cold.”
Callie started to pick up the plates from the table. Josh put his hand firmly over hers and drew it to his chest.
“Uh-uh. You’re not here to work. I can take care of them later.”
With a faint nod of acquiescence, she allowed him to draw her away from the table and up the shallow tiled stairs, between tall cypresses, that led toward the back of the house.
Over homemade shortcake, courtesy of his day housekeeper, and the decaf coffee Callie insisted on, Josh maintained very general conversation, but he wasn’t oblivious to the way Callie’s eyes darted around the room from time to time. Especially when her gaze alighted, with barely concealed interest, on a collection of framed photographs on the sideboard.
“Do you mind?” she asked, gesturing to the pictures.
“Sure, why not?”
He followed her over to the pictures. She unerringly picked up the duplicate of the one he had in his office.
“This is you and your mum, isn’t it? It’s the same as the one at work.” She smiled, her fingertip tracing the outline of his youthful face behind glass. “You both look so happy.”
“She was still well then and, yes, despite everything, we were happy,” Josh conceded.
“I’m glad,” Callie said simply. She shot a look at her wristwatch. “Oh, is that the time? I must head off. I’ve really enjoyed this evening. Thank you.”
As he saw her to the door he knew he needed to make his first definitive move.
“I hope you weren’t too upset that I couldn’t keep the painting,” Callie said as she pressed the button on her key to unlock her car.
“Not upset exactly,” Josh responded, choosing his words carefully.
“Oh?”
“Just sorry I caused you distress in any way.”
As Callie started to speak again Josh placed his index finger firmly against her lips. “Don’t make excuses for me. I can handle making a mistake every now and then.”
Before she could summon a protest, he lowered his head to hers and replaced his fingertip with his lips. The sudden jolt that shattered through him came as a complete surprise. Yes, logically he knew he found her attractive. What red-blooded hetero guy wouldn’t? But the searing heat plunging through his veins was totally unexpected. He fought to not pull her to him, to align the soft curves of her body against the hard planes of his. To answer the primitive roar that filled his mind even as he fought to keep the kiss light.
She tasted of the mixed berries and white chocolate shortcake, and the sweetness, combined with her own unique flavour, spread through his senses like an intoxicating elixir.
Not touching her was torment. Taking her lips not enough. With a groan, he gave in to his body’s demands and slid his arms around her, gathering her to him. The smooth fabric of her dress slithered against his palms as he stroked across her back. Beneath the silky fabric he felt the heat of her skin and instantly wanted to know its texture more intimately.
Callie’s hands still remained at her side, her fingers clenched around her car keys. He could feel her tension in every line of her body. Gently, he deepened his kiss, sweeping his tongue past her lips to stroke hers, to absorb the tiny sounds she made. Sounds that sent his blood pulsing even faster and hotter through his veins.
A small tremor undulated through her body—if he hadn’t been holding her so close he might have missed it—but it signalled her capitulation. Her mouth opened wider, her tongue met his and her keys dropped unheeded to the driveway as she raised her hands and linked them around his neck, pulling him closer to her.
Her breasts pressed now against his chest, her hips aligned with his, her mound pressing against the rigid length of his desire for her. There was no hiding it. He was unequivocally aroused.
The realisation of how close he was to losing control sluiced through his mind with the effectiveness of a bucket of iced water. He didn’t want to rush this.
Slowly, Josh withdraw from their embrace, but the insistent hammer of his heart in his chest belied the call his mind had just made. He trailed a line of small kisses from the corner of Callie’s mouth and up the soft curve of her cheekbone until his lips rested against her temple.
Her breath came in short, sharp puffs of air against the bare skin at the opening of his shirt. His imagination flew into overdrive wondering what it would be like to feel her breath over the rest of his body. He bit back a curse and summoned every ounce of control he had left.
Josh lifted his hands to frame Callie’s face and tilted her head slightly, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“I’m glad you came over tonight.”
“I…” Her voice foundered with confusion.
“You know I want to see you again.” He kissed her slightly parted lips once last time. “And I’m not just talking about in the office.”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Worried what people will say? We can keep it quiet for now if you want. Think about it, okay?”
He bent and retrieved her car keys from the driveway and opened the car door for her.
“Promise me you’ll drive home safely,” he said, his eyes boring into hers.
&nb
sp; “I will.”
Confusion reflected in her eyes. He’d wager tonight hadn’t been what she’d anticipated at all. For him it had been an unexpected bonus.
“See you Monday. We’ll talk more then.”
“Yes, Monday.”
She was operating on autopilot now, and the realisation gave him a sense of supreme male satisfaction. Obviously, their kiss had rattled her as much as it had him.
Callie took her keys from his outstretched hand, her fingertips tingling as they brushed against his palm. She still couldn’t quite believe that he’d kissed her, nor could she rationalise her overwhelming reaction to that kiss. Somehow she had to pull herself together and get herself home. From hidden reserves of strength she dragged up the automatic behaviour required to clip on her seat belt and start her car.
As she drove up the driveway, she stole a look in the rearview mirror. Josh stood exactly where she’d left him, bathed in the golden outdoor lighting, a strong silhouette watching her as she drove away. Her breath quickened in her chest as she felt the strength of his perusal through the dark night air and she lifted a hand to her face, her fingertips resting against her lips as if by doing so she could relive his touch all over again.
By the time she got home, she could almost fool herself that she’d pulled her act together. Right up until the moment she got inside and saw the red eye on her answering machine winking at her across the room.
Five
Irene’s voice filled the air with the modulated tones that gave witness to her impeccable upbringing and her private school education.
“Callie, it’s been two weeks. Call me in the morning. Surely you have something for me.”
Callie hit the erase key, but it did nothing to clear the frustration that still hung in the air with a palpable presence. Something for Irene? She had nothing. Absolutely nothing, except a growing sense of admiration for a man she should not have allowed to kiss her tonight.
Of course he was ruthless. Look at where he’d come from, what he’d achieved on his own. Was it possible that the Palmers had it all wrong and that it was merely strong business acumen that kept Josh one step ahead of them on so many contracts lately? As far as poaching staff went, that kind of thing happened everywhere. Of course he wanted to surround himself with the best of the best. It was no less than what he offered himself.
One-Click Buy: December 2009 Silhouette Desire Page 73
