Wicked Heat

by Nicola Marsh

  “Some frigging choice,” he said, signaling for another drink. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit ruffled by any of this?” He snapped his fingers. “Of course not. You control the situation and get your own way.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Suck it up, Princess. Life’s not fair. Or didn’t you know?” He downed another double shot and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Want to know what’s not fair? Working your ass off for years, building a reputable company, and losing everything because you’re a gullible idiot who sees the best in people.”

  “You weren’t gullible.” She laid a hand on his forearm, wanting to comfort him. Not surprisingly, he snatched his arm away.

  “Like how I wasn’t gullible with you?” Bitterness twisted his mouth. “Christ, I’m an idiot.”

  “I didn’t mean to deliberately hurt you,” she said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “I was going to tell you the truth.”

  “When? After you landed the deal so as not to mess up the little arrangement we had going on?”

  He scored a direct hit and heat surged to Allegra’s cheeks.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” He leaned closer, whiskey fumes on his breath mingling with the citrus aftershave that seemed imprinted on her skin following their scorching encounters. “You were enjoying getting off so much, you didn’t want to mess with that, so you hedged your bets.”

  “Don’t be crude,” she said, turning away a fraction so he couldn’t see her shame at being caught out.

  “Crude is waiting to see if you land a deal before coming clean. Crude is taking what you can get and not giving a shit about the other person. Crude is using whatever means possible to get ahead.”

  Her head snapped up at his last accusation. “I never used you to get ahead.”

  “No, but you used your sexuality as a weapon.” He waved toward Kai’s office. “You and Zoe strutting in there in your short-skirted power suits, using the old ‘sex sells’ campaign.”

  “Don’t insult me.” She squared her shoulders and eyeballed him. “I’m a professional. I won this campaign by sizing up the situation and acting accordingly.”

  He pinned her with a glare that made her squirm. “Is that what you did with me? Size me up and act accordingly?”

  He made it sound like she’d tied him up and used him against his will. He wished.

  “Let’s stick to business,” she said, brusque to the point of rudeness. “You’ve got the Whitsunday job if you want it. Carte blanche with your ideas, but as a subcontractor to AW I’ll need to have final approval.”

  His lips set in a mutinous line.

  “I guess for all intents and purposes I’m your boss but I don’t expect you to run everything by me. You’re a professional in the industry. I trust you.”

  “How magnanimous,” he said, a sneer curling his upper lip.

  “You’re acting like an ass.” She stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. “When you’re willing to talk business like an adult, give me a call.”

  “Screw this,” he said, signaling for a third drink as he pinned her with an accusatory glare. “I know exactly why you didn’t tell me about pitching. Because I was the enemy and you wanted to be in total control of the situation.”

  Startled by his accusation, she crossed her arms, her nails digging into her forearms until she felt a sting of pain. “You were never the enemy.”

  “But you did want to keep me on a tight leash.”

  She didn’t like his flaring resentment or the realization that part of his accusation might be true. She had loved the incredible empowerment of having it all for once: killer job, killer guy, and happiness beyond measure. But she hadn’t told him everything because she didn’t want him to feel emasculated. Because she cared about him, worse luck. “You’re wrong—”

  “Am I?” He tapped his temple. “You’re constantly overthinking and overanalyzing everything. I couldn’t even have your undivided attention for one dinner without you drifting off into your own little world where you’re the queen of your domain.”

  Allegra stared at Jett, his constant references to her controlling tendencies seriously starting to piss her off. She’d been distracted at that dinner because she’d been scrounging up her meager courage to tell him the truth. And look how that turned out.

  Hating how he had the power to hurt her, she deliberately perched on a barstool again, cool and calm and in control to prove a point. “Not everyone can be facetious and glib and insouciant all the time.”

  Anger sparked his eyes. “Are you calling me shallow?”

  “No more than you calling me a control freak.”

  His neck muscles bulged. “Good to know what you really think of me.”

  “Stop being so damn sensitive,” she snapped, instantly regretting losing her temper when he squared his shoulders as if going into battle. “I tried to help you, goddammit. I changed my pitch for you! Yours was almost identical to the idea I’d had and I wanted to give you a fair shot at winning so I came up with something completely different. I did that for you.”

  The truth spilled out in an ugly torrent and nothing like how she’d envisioned telling him. But it was too late. By his pallor and horror-stricken expression, way too late.

  “For fuck’s sake, you thought I was some kind of pathetic charity case who couldn’t go head-to-head with you so you changed your pitch? You thought I needed your pity?” He shook his head, disgust twisting his grimace. “How magnanimous of you, deigning to help the poor sucker you duped.”

  He stood. “Don’t you think I know what you think of me deep down?” He towered over her, glowering and grim. “You think I’m a gullible loser who can’t keep control of anything, let alone his business partner and company.” He jabbed a finger at her. “Here’s a news flash for you.” He sneered. “I’ll do the best damn job I can on the Whitsunday campaign and report in like a good little minion. But anything else between us?” He made a slitting action across his neck. “We’re done.”

  Stunned by how swiftly the situation had deteriorated, Allegra opened her mouth to call him back. To refute his outlandish claims. To deny his self-pity.

  But as Jett’s strides lengthened and the gap between them grew, Allegra knew there was nothing she could say to convince Jett he was wrong. Because as brutal as his accusations had been, maybe there’d been a kernel of truth buried deep.

  …

  The next morning, Jett had the hangover to end all hangovers.

  He’d lost count of how many double shots he’d had last night at one of the resort’s many bars and didn’t particularly care. He’d craved numbness and that’s what he’d gotten after the tenth drink. Or was it the fifteenth?

  At no stage had it entered his head that he’d be committing professional suicide if Kai Kaluna had ventured into the bar and seen him sprawled against it. Then again, had he really cared?

  When Allegra had talked to him like a condescending queen with a pole stuck ten feet up her ass, he’d wanted to smash something. So he’d settled for getting smashed instead.

  He’d acted like a real prick and she’d called him on it. Had to admire her for that. Never had he seen her look at him like that…like something nasty she’d stepped in and couldn’t wait to wipe off her shoe.

  He’d deserved it, of course, but it didn’t change facts.

  If he didn’t get his act together he’d be heading back to Sydney unemployed.

  He should be rapt that Kai had given him a shot at showcasing his newest resort to the world. Instead, he’d gotten hung up on the logistics and allowed his bitterness toward Allegra to taint his success.

  To think, she would now be his boss.

  In what realm was this anything but a big cosmic joke? Ha frigging ha.

  It wouldn’t be so bad. She’d be on the other side of the world, he’d be based in Sydney and making regular trips to the Great Barrier Reef. They’d be oceans apart.

  So why did that thought make his s
tomach roll as much as the lingering scotch in his bloodstream?

  He had to pull himself together, get cleaned up, and go find Allegra to perform his first task as her employee.

  Grovel.

  …

  “So stud-muffin didn’t take the news so well, huh?” Zoe bit into a bagel and licked strawberry jam off her top lip.

  “He was a mess,” Allegra said, scooping a spoonful of cereal before letting it trickle back into the bowl, untouched. “I kinda felt sorry for him.”

  “Sore loser,” Zoe said, taking another big bite of bagel. “Probably one of those Neanderthals who hates having a female boss.”

  Allegra shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it.”

  “You’re defending him?” Zoe’s eyebrows shot up. “Because he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Whoa, back up. How did we go from discussing business to him not deserving me?”

  “You’re pining for him, and by the way he kept staring at you in Kai’s office, the feeling’s mutual.” Zoe dusted crumbs off her hands and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “You’re deluding yourself if you think having him work for you is going to be strictly business.”

  “’Course it will be,” Allegra said, wondering if her snappy answer had more to do with convincing herself than Zoe. “We need to get a job done.”

  Zoe grinned. “Yeah, but who’s going to be doing who?”

  Allegra picked up a bagel and flung it at Zoe, who ducked with a raucous laugh.

  “Trust me.” Zoe puckered up and made gross smooching noises. “You and stud-muffin? Not over. Not by a long shot.”

  Allegra never mixed business with pleasure, but for a fleeting second, she sure as hell wished she could.

  …

  Jett knocked twice on Allegra’s door and waited. He clutched the bunch of frangipani so tight they almost snapped off at the stalks and he forced himself to relax.

  As far as peace offerings went, the flowers were uninspiring but what else could he do? Normally he’d offer to kiss it all better but he had a feeling any offer remotely like it would earn him a resounding slap.

  He should’ve called ahead but had wanted her off-balance. Childish? Maybe, but he needed to regain the upper hand, to establish some kind of control after losing so much ground last night.

  He couldn’t help but admire the way she presented an unruffled front to the world. Made him wonder. How many people did she let her guard down around? Was he one of the lucky few?

  He lifted his hand to knock again when the door swung open, and he clamped down on his first urge to push into the suite, slam the door shut, and take Allegra up against the wall. They’d both enjoyed it that way, a little rough. She had faint bruises on her ass where he’d held her tight to prove it. Not to mention the memory of her tied up and splayed before him…wet and wanton…

  Some of what he was thinking must’ve shown on his face because she stood back to let him in, not daring to meet his gaze.

  His gut clenched with remembrance as her soft floral fragrance wrapped around him, teasing him to reevaluate all he’d lost.

  “I want to apologize for last night.” He thrust the flowers at her. “I behaved like an idiot.”

  “Yeah, you did. But I did, too, blurting the whole truth like that.” She took the flowers, buried her nose in them, and inhaled. “Thanks for these.”

  “Least I could do.” He sat without being asked, more memories assaulting him from all angles. Kissing her on this very sofa, making her squirm for him.

  Predictably, he hardened. Damn.

  If she noticed, she didn’t say anything, bustling into the kitchenette to fill a glass with water and placing the flowers in the makeshift vase.

  When she came back in she handed him a glass of yellow fizz. “Liquid vitamin B to help your hangover.”

  “I’m not hungover.” But he accepted the drink regardless.

  She snorted. “You can shave and shower and use an entire bottle of mouthwash, but those bloodshot eyes?” Incredibly smug, she sat opposite him. “They don’t lie.”

  He bit back his first response of “unlike you,” because that kind of barb wouldn’t help anyone. He needed to make peace, not start a war.

  “Drink up. You’ll feel better.”

  He muttered “know-it-all” under his breath and downed the drink.

  “Better?” She smirked.

  “Immensely.” He placed the glass on the table, braced his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward. “How about you?”

  “Just peachy.”

  “Because a campaign the size of Kaluna Resorts is a helluva lot of pressure. Sure you’re up to it?”

  So much for not baiting her, but there was something infinitely annoying about her imperturbable front that begged him to ruffle her.

  She stiffened, the first sign he’d penetrated her nonchalance. “I’m a professional. Something you’ll soon find out, as I’ll be your boss.”

  He found himself grinning at her sass. “So how do we play this?”

  A tiny frown dented her brow. “We don’t play at anything. If you’re willing to toe the line, we work together. If not, you bail now.”

  He had to admire her. She’d donned an über-cool persona, determined to demonstrate she was the boss. It made him want to rattle her, see if she could relinquish a little control.

  He leaned back in the chair and draped an arm across the back of it. “You seemed to enjoy our play before.”

  The telltale blush he loved so much flushed her cheeks crimson. “Our fling’s done.”

  The flare of heat in her bold gaze made a mockery of her statement before she pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “Look, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Let’s not muddy our professional relationship with anything we’ve done in the past.”

  He jotted imaginary notes on the back of his hand. “Got it. Sex off-limits.”

  “And lose the smart-ass attitude.”

  He scrawled in the air in giant script. “Must. Not. Be. A. Smart. Ass.”

  He saw her struggling to keep a straight face. Good. Meant they could meet on middle ground and work together.

  “You’re flying home today, then to the Whitsundays day after tomorrow.” She picked up her iPad and swiped the screen. “I’ll e-mail you all the details, along with relevant subcontractor forms.”

  “Looks like you’ve thought of everything,” he said, wondering if he’d ever see her again. “Bar the important stuff.”

  “Like?”

  “Like us clearing the air properly. Like you letting me make it up to you. Like you admitting there may be more between us than a few sun-filled days of island sex.”

  The iPad almost slipped from her fingers and she laid it on the coffee table before finally looking up.

  Turmoil darkened her eyes to indigo. He knew the feeling. It was the same unrest he’d been feeling ever since he set eyes on her at LAX.

  He’d never experienced the mayhem and confusion this woman could elicit with one glance. She disarmed him to the point of craziness and he knew there was no way in hell he’d be able to get any work done unless they confronted what had happened over the last few days.

  “Your being here has cleared the air, and the flowers were apology enough for your acting like a dickhead.”

  “And the rest?”

  She shrugged, infuriatingly calm. “Not an issue.”

  “Bullshit.” He leaped from the sofa, vaulted the coffee table, and sat beside her. “Look at me.”

  She ignored him, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw jutted as she stared straight ahead, pretending that he didn’t exist.

  “Why did you really do it? Change your pitch?”

  It had been bugging him all night, why she’d done such a thing. Because when he’d eventually calmed down and his fuzzy alcohol-infused brain had cleared, he’d known she hadn’t done it out of pity. At no stage in their brief relationship had she looked down on him. So what had been her real motivation? Because no way in he
ll he would’ve changed his business pitch for someone he barely knew.

  “I did it because I wanted to help.” Her nose crinkled adorably.

  He bristled. “So I was a charity case? Something you saw as broken that needed fixing?”

  “Don’t be such a moron.” Her upper lip curled in derision. He found it kinda cute. “I felt bad enough not telling you we were vying for the same account. And it meant everything to both of us. So I did what I thought needed to be done. I changed my pitch. End of story.”

  She made it sound so matter-of-fact, when Jett knew there had to be more to it.

  “You’re still lying to me—”

  “I care about you, okay?” She whirled on him like a crazy woman, eyes blazing. “That’s why I did it. I care. There. Now you know. So sue me.”

  She turned away and folded her arms, determinedly not looking in his direction, her jaw clenched so tight he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear her teeth grinding.

  He should’ve been glad she’d finally admitted the truth. She cared. Well, that made two of them. But how could they ever come back from something like this, now that she was his boss?

  He needed to get their relationship—albeit for work—back on track. And the way to do it was to revert to what they’d done best all week. Sparring.

  “You’re the most controlling, confident, maddening woman I’ve ever met,” he said, poking her in the side to get a reaction.

  She whirled on him so fast he startled. “And you’re the most arrogant, cocky, big-mouth son of a bitch I’ve ever met.” She placed her palms on his chest and shoved, hard.

  However, her little display of dominance backfired as he toppled backward and she came with him, ending up lying flush on his chest.

  “I knew you still wanted me.” He grinned up at her, clamping his arms around her waist when she struggled to sit up.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Only if you ask nicely.” He claimed her mouth, stifling the rest of what she’d been about to say.

  She squirmed against him to escape and he held on tight, waiting for the moment her lips parted before his tongue swept into her mouth, deepening the kiss to the point of no return.