The New Guy

by Kathryn Freeman

  ‘Don’t be. At least you remembered.’ She grinned up at him. ‘Are we good to mate like bunnies now?’

  There was a moment, a heartbeat, as he stared into her dancing eyes, that he felt a connection. Something beyond the sexual attraction. She was amused, not annoyed. Kind, not snippy. It made him regret there would only be tonight.

  Then he shook the thought away. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life. Besides, she’d made it quite clear he wasn’t her type.

  Still, he took a moment to brush the hair from her face. To gaze steadily into her eyes and give her a gentle, teasing kiss before thrusting into her.

  Chest heaving, Ryan flopped back onto the bed. Christ, that wasn’t just sex. It was an out-of-body experience.

  ‘Holy shit.’

  With the few remaining vestiges of strength he had left, he turned towards her. ‘Yeah. Ditto.’

  ‘We didn’t do too badly, for a pair of inexperienced one-night standers.’

  He nodded, shifting his gaze up to the ceiling. She’s too chatty, he reminded himself, though he was kind of getting used to chatty.

  The boundaries were very clear, though. Reluctantly he swung his legs off the bed. ‘Guess I should get going.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  He stilled, looking over his shoulder at her. ‘Thought it was a one-time thing.’

  Her hand clutched the sheet, pulling it up to hide her breasts. Her red hair was a messy riot, her cheeks flushed. She looked both sex goddess and innocent. ‘One night, I think we said.’ Her mouth curved into a sexy smile, notching up the siren.

  With a shrug, as if he was cool either way, as if his body wasn’t already firing bolts of arousal back through his system, and his mind not already full of all the things he still wanted to do with her, Ryan shifted back into the bed. ‘Sure.’ He coughed to clear the hoarseness from his throat. ‘I can go with that.’

  As dawn filtered through the shutters, he picked up the clothes he’d discarded round her bedroom and threw them on. A glance over to the bed confirmed she was still asleep. Ignoring the tug of disappointment, he picked up his jacket and crept out of the room. Better this way.

  Last night he’d noticed nothing but her. This morning, as he walked back down the hallway, he checked out the place. Smart, upmarket. Much like she was. He’d like to bet rats didn’t party in her swanky kitchen or hang out on her vivid red velvet sofa, peeing on all the multicoloured cushions. Clearly, he hadn’t been wrong about the rainbow thing she had going on.

  Whoever the hell she was, she had a lot more money than he did. It made him glad he’d escaped before she woke up. He’d like to bet she’d have a tonne of regrets – along with a humdinger of a headache – when she finally surfaced.

  PART TWO

  The New Guy

  Chapter 4

  As the sun shone through her curtains, Sam winced. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, her head like men with sharp tools were banging away inside it, trying to get out.

  Serves her right for drinking so much. As for that saying about not getting a hangover from champagne, she could officially declare it bogus.

  The events from last night began to trickle through her consciousness and she sat up with a start, frantically looking round the room. Relief washed through her as she noticed his clothes had gone. There would be no awkward morning conversation to taint the memory of what, she had to admit, had been a night of stupendous sex.

  With a wistful sigh, she dropped her head back against the pillow. Would she do it again? Doubtful. Yet despite that, last night had been exactly what she’d needed. A few hours when the sadness of saying goodbye to her grandad, and the worries that seemed to be her constant companion these days, had been numbed by alcohol. And then obliterated by wild, fabulously hot sex with a total stranger.

  Her eyes drifted to the bedside clock and she shrieked, then put her hand to her head as the men began banging with their tools even harder.

  Three-quarters of an hour later she strolled into the foyer of Privacy Solutions. Five years ago it had been an idea conjured up by two bright-eyed undergraduates. Two years ago, the company had launched the Privacy app, a software solution that enabled users to identify websites storing information on them. It had catapulted them into the headlines, catching the imagination of the media and leading to sales that had outperformed their wildest predictions. It had meant moving the headquarters from a living room to the space it now occupied – the ground floor of a recently renovated old warehouse. Now the company employed fifteen full-time employees, several more contractors, and had an annual turnover of more than two million pounds.

  But that was all in the past. Threats of a rival app, a superior app, meant things were about to get cut-throat.

  ‘Sam.’ Becky, marketing director and Sam’s best friend from school, ran over, burying her in a giant bear hug. ‘I’m so sorry about Grumps. How are you doing? How was the funeral? How’s your mum coping?’

  Sam laughed as she tried to extricate herself. ‘I’ll tell you when you stop firing questions at me.’ Becky was one of life’s good people. Her hard shell – electric blue hair, pierced nose, leather skirt and heavy Doc Marten boots – hid a heart that was soft and surprisingly easy to bruise.

  Becky took Sam’s hand and dragged her into a meeting room, pushing her unceremoniously onto a chair. ‘Talk to me.’

  Because she knew Becky was asking out of genuine concern – she was almost part of the family – Sam patiently answered all the questions before asking a critical one of her own. ‘This new software developer that’s joining us. You’re sure about him?’

  Becky rolled eyes that were heavily defined with black eyeliner. ‘Too late now. He’s starting in’ – she glanced at the large man’s watch on her wrist – ‘forty minutes.’

  ‘But he interviewed okay? I know he must have, or you wouldn’t have hired him, but reassure me the man doesn’t have two heads.’ It was the first recruitment Sam hadn’t handled personally, and it felt uncomfortable.

  ‘One head. Kind of good-looking too, if you like your man on the macho side.’

  ‘Which I don’t.’ Her ex had been classically handsome. Considering what a shit he’d turned out to be though, maybe it was time to change type.

  ‘Me neither, but some women go for it.’ Becky liked them lean, artistic and tortured. Men she could try and fix, like the bartender-come-wannabe-drummer she was currently dating. ‘Aside from being macho and unimpressed that I was interviewing him instead of you, he was fine. He didn’t smile much, actually scratch that, he didn’t smile at all, but Hank had warned me he was a bit on the dour side.’ Hank was Becky’s brother, and he also happened to be the man who’d suggested the guy to them.

  ‘Remind me again how he lost his job? He was fired for what, exactly?’

  ‘Officially for refusing to toe the company line. Unofficially, Hank said he point-blank refused to work on the next project they assigned him.’

  ‘Because?’ Becky loved to tease. To draw out a story. Probably because she knew it drove Sam crazy.

  Becky grinned. ‘Because he believed it was morally wrong. It was some sort of gambling app. According to Hank, he went apeshit, said he didn’t agree with the concept and he wasn’t having anything to do with it.’

  Sam winced. Not that she didn’t admire the guy’s stance, but there were better, more constructive ways to say no than going apeshit. ‘Well, I hope your Hank’s right about him being a genius, because he sounds like a handful to work with.’

  ‘Chill. He’s on a three-month probation, so we can kick him out if he’s a nightmare. Hank did say he’s the best he’s ever worked with though, and considering Hank always told me he thought he was the best, that’s saying something.’

  They needed the best, Sam thought grimly. For eighteen months, the development team had been working on an update to the Privacy app and getting nowhere. Now it was crunch time. Sam couldn’t be sure, but best guess was they had thr
ee months to get the modified app out before their rival hit the markets. And by rival, read bitter enemy. And by crunch time, read if they failed, the company was finished, investors lost their money. Everyone lost their jobs.

  The heartburn that had begun a month ago flared again, leaving a sharp, burning pain in her chest. Automatically she reached for the antacids in her bag. As she chewed on one, both of their phones buzzed with an identical message.

  Becky got to hers first. ‘Well, look at that. Our new employee may lack people skills, but you can’t fault his timekeeping. That’s Kerry to say he’s arrived and is sitting in reception.’

  Kerry was their sweet, slightly ditzy office manager. She’d been with them eighteen months and what she lacked in common sense, she made up for in her sunny, happy-to-do-anything-asked-of-her nature. Of course, her predecessor had been very accommodating too. In fact, she’d bent over backwards to help, literally. As Sam could testify.

  Grimly she shook the unhelpful thought away. ‘Great. Let’s go and meet him.’

  As they stood, Becky gave her a stern look. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve turned into a Rennies addict. You need to decrease your stress levels.’

  Sam gave her what she hoped was a bright smile. ‘Worry not. That’s exactly what Ryan Black is here to do.’

  They walked together towards the reception, a funky space with modern black leather sofas, steel desk and original brickwork. As her eyes glanced towards the man sitting down, Sam careered to a halt, her stress levels going through the roof. This had to be some sort of joke. The guy slouched on the sofa, wearing dark-blue jeans, a familiar brown leather jacket and even more familiar scowl, couldn’t be the guy she’d just hired.

  Could he?

  ‘That’s …’ Adrenaline, mixed with dread, had turned her voice scratchy so she tried again. ‘That’s Ryan Black?’

  Becky looked at her oddly. ‘Yes. Why, do you know him?’

  I know the sounds he makes when he’s having sex. The expression on his face when he comes. Shit, shit, shit. ‘I might have had a one-night stand last night with a guy I met in the bar. And he might have looked exactly like the guy sitting over there.’

  Becky’s heavy black eyebrows shot into her blue hairline. ‘Holy shit. There’s so much I need to ask you right now.’

  ‘Later.’ Sam’s heart was beating so erratically, she thought she might faint. ‘For now, you need to focus on telling me how to play this. Pretend I can’t remember any of it? Laugh it off, like I often hire men I’ve had sleazy one-night stands with?’ Hysteria threatened as she felt a totally inappropriate desire to laugh. For the love of God, how was she supposed to look him in the eye, to command his respect, knowing he’d seen her naked only a few hours ago. And knowing she’d picked him up.

  She wasn’t meant to see this guy ever again. Yet by some cruel twist of fate here he was, sitting large as life in the Privacy Solutions foyer.

  Ryan Black chose that moment to look up. And catch her eye.

  For fuck’s sake. Ryan blinked and sat bolt upright. No, he hadn’t dozed off into some weird fantasy land. Drunk girl from the bar was walking towards him. Taking in a deep breath, he ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach and told himself it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Sure, it was never ideal to work in the same company as a woman you’d had a drunken one-night stand with but hey, they’d had a good time. At least he had. Hell, she’d asked him to stay for more when he’d been about to leave, so she can’t have hated it. Regretted it, probably, but that was on her. He’d been very careful to make sure it had been her choice.

  As the shock receded and his brain started to function, he consoled himself with the thought that she might not even work for Privacy Solutions – and yeah, that wasn’t a company name he was going to be shouting out very often. She might just be visiting her odd, blue-haired friend. Becky, the marketing director who stood in for her boss when the man couldn’t be arsed turning up. Ryan was looking forward to meeting this Sam Huxton bloke and finding out if he really was as much of a tosser as he expected him to be. In Ryan’s experience, small tech company bosses were shiny-suited upstarts who thought they could make a quick buck by starting a company and selling it on. Usually by using their trust fund, or their mate’s trust fund.

  As the unlikely pair walked towards him – one with red hair, one with blue: if they stood with the dizzy blonde who’d introduced herself as office manager, they’d have a flag going on – Ryan rose to his feet. It wasn’t manners. More a determination to use his height to send a message. We slept together. So what.

  Champagne Lady seemed calm and collected as she stopped in front of him but when she held her hand out to him it trembled slightly. Good. ‘You must be Ryan Black.’ Her lips formed a small, wry smile. ‘I feel like we’ve met before.’

  As he gave her hand a brief shake, he cursed that he was as attracted to her now as he had been last night. That wide mouth, the red hair, those magnificent blue eyes. And that’s without factoring in the mind-blowing curves he knew lay beneath the cream trousers and soft pink jumper she wore. ‘If we had, I’d remember.’ He stared right back at her, pleased with his equally enigmatic reply. Words weren’t his thing. Give him numbers, code, and he was frigging eloquent. Make him talk, or write, and he felt dumb as shit.

  ‘Yes. I imagine a meeting between us would be memorable.’ She drew in a breath. ‘Welcome to Privacy Solutions. I’m Sam Huxton.’

  WTF? He felt his legs give way and he took an involuntary step back, bumping his calf against the chair. ‘You’re Sam Huxton,’ he repeated dumbly, his mind deciding to really crap on the moment by replaying an image from last night. Her naked, on her bed. Him leaning over her, sliding into her.

  ‘I am.’

  It hadn’t been a question, but he was grateful for her reply, even if it did confirm his fears, because it gave him another two seconds to try and unscramble his messy, wayward, frozen head. ‘And you didn’t turn up to the interview because …’ Belatedly, stupidly, he remembered exactly why not.

  ‘I had a family emergency.’ Her eyes flickered away from his and he knew she was remembering telling him all about dear old Grumps. ‘But you met Becky, our marketing director.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded to the blue-haired goth, wondering if she felt the tension – both sexual and otherwise – that was pinging between him and Sam … fuck, between him and the CEO … like a pinball on acid.

  ‘Right, I’ll leave you both to it,’ Becky said with a smirk, and Ryan couldn’t be sure if it was because she knew what had gone down between him and Sam, or if she was just very good at reading minds.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, all the angst, the shock, the mortification of having slept with his boss – his frigging boss – exploded inside him. ‘Look, Champagne Lady—’

  ‘Sam.’

  Why did she look and sound so cool when he was a melting pot of jumbled emotions? ‘Sam,’ he said tightly, the word feeling like a sharp stone on his tongue. For Christ’s sake, why hadn’t he asked her name yesterday? ‘I can see why you want to brush last night under the carpet. Trust me, in hindsight it wasn’t my finest hour, either.’ He’d had sex with the boss woman. His mind was stuck on the words. How did he move forward from this? Bad enough when he’d thought she was a co-worker, but oh no, Champagne Lady wasn’t just that. She owned the company he’d signed a contract to work for.

  Godammit, she owned him, because he couldn’t walk out. He needed the job, and the money, too badly. Who else was going to take on a guy who’d been fired from his last company?

  ‘We’re both adults.’ Her smile was polite and professional. Nothing like the sexy, teasing one she’d directed his way most of yesterday evening. ‘We can put last night behind us and move on.’

  It irked him that she was handling this way better than he was. He wanted to be the detached one. The one able to coolly dismiss the previous evening, as if it had hardly registered as an event at all.

  Not the o
ne who couldn’t stop thinking about every blasted second of it.

  Not the one who wanted nothing more right now than to drag her out of this squeaky-clean office, mess up her tidy hair, yank off her neat jumper and do very dirty things to her.

  ‘Fine.’ He leant forward, eyes blazing into hers. ‘But know this. I remember every single moment. How you look naked. How your eyes glazed over when I thrust into you. And I know you do, too.’ With that he took a deliberate step back and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘How about you show me where I’ll be working?’

  Chapter 5

  Sam blinked, hating the arousal she felt at the memories Ryan’s words evoked. But he wasn’t the only one who could play at mind games. Screwing up her courage, she took a step forward so that once again they were eye to eye. Heaving chest to heaving chest.

  ‘You’re right. I remember exactly what went on last night, too.’ She tried to curl her lips into a smirk. ‘Think on that, when I’m doing your performance review.’ As a satisfying flush crept up his neck she stepped back, like he had, and pasted a sickly-sweet smile on her face. ‘I’m going to hand you back to Kerry now. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to give you a quick tour of the place and show you to your workstation. I’ll catch up with you later.’ When I’ve finished my more important tasks.

  He must have read her subtext, because the flush on his face deepened. And God, this bitch wasn’t her, but she didn’t know how else to deal with him. Why hadn’t he taken her lead and chosen the civilised, professional way out; ignore, ignore, ignore? Why had he not only acknowledged the elephant in the room, but shoved it right under her nose?

  Leaving him fuming – he obviously hadn’t mastered the art of hiding his feelings – she strode sharply over to Kerry. ‘Would you do me a favour and show the new guy round? I’m swamped after being off last week.’ It wasn’t a lie, though usually she was the one who did the tour, combining it with an introductory pep talk on the philosophy of the company. That would have to come later, when she didn’t feel the need to knee him in the balls. And then kiss him. Heavens above, why did she still want to do that?