Ran From Him

by Jenny Schwartz

  “You don’t make a habit of it?” She made the question light and teasing.

  But he answered seriously. “No, Cate, I don’t.” He kissed her with heart-stopping thoroughness, snagged his jacket and vanished. “Twelve o’clock for lunch” floated back from the hallway, then the door slammed and he was gone.

  She smiled and reached for the last piece of toast. She rinsed the breakfast dishes, changed the sheets on Daniel’s bed—with a blush and a smile for their mussed state—then went to soak her sore muscles in a hot bath.

  “Aah.” She sighed with bliss as the water caressed her body. All her senses were heightened to a new awareness and appreciation of sensual stimuli. “I could get used to this.”

  Except, as Daniel had reminded her over breakfast, she had to return to Sydney.

  She frowned and smoothed a bath sponge over her shoulder. After tonight’s family dinner, she really had no reason—no excuse—for remaining in Perth. Rob and Amie were happy. Her dad and her were reconciled. She would have to book a flight back to Sydney, back to ordinary life, work and loneliness.

  “No more Daniel.”

  She had only one more night to enjoy his love-play. Then celibacy loomed. Right now, she couldn’t imagine sharing her body with any other man. She trusted Daniel. She loved the response he could draw from her body, and the heaven they shared.

  Impelled by a sense of urgency not to lose any of the time they could spend together, she finished her bath and dressed quickly in her work uniform of black trousers and white shirt. She pinned her hair back in a French twist and discreetly applied makeup to her glowing skin.

  She had her press card with her and could blend in with the media attending Daniel’s press conference to announce his retirement and the new CEO, Tim Radjick.

  He won’t even notice I’m there. But she’d be able to watch him and store a memory of how he looked at work; his power and style.

  Daniel’s mining company headquarters flaunted its multinational success with a gleaming display of wealth. Glass and steel climbed upwards according to an architect’s futuristic design, its harsh statement of power minimally softened in front by a three-jet water fountain shooting from a pool framed by black marble.

  Cate walked around the pool and into a foyer dominated by polished red granite and giving the impression of endless space. On a side wall a massive Aboriginal painting fought back against the sterility of the business setting. The ochre painted canvas showed an emu and two chicks.

  She smiled, recognising Daniel’s influence in the choice of painting, and took a step toward it.

  A security guard standing at the reception desk intervened. “Forget the painting. You’re late.”

  She blinked. “I am?”

  “The press conference is almost over.”

  She smiled. “Am I so obviously a journalist?” She fished in her handbag for her press card.

  The guard glanced at it without returning her smile. “Seventh floor.”

  “Thanks.”

  The lift shot skyward. Her stomach lurched and she grabbed the handrail. When the doors opened, she hurried out before the aggressive lift could plunge back down, carrying her with it.

  From the vestibule, she heard and recognised the babble of noise that signalled the end of a successful press conference. She’d missed her chance to hear Daniel speak.

  Too long dreaming in the bath.

  In a large room at the end of the corridor, her media colleagues were making the most of a lavish morning tea and a chance to question both the old and new CEOs.

  Her heart kicked as she saw Daniel. His blonde head was inclined as he listened to something a short, older man said. After a minute, they shook hands and the other man headed for the coffee. Daniel turned and saw Cate.

  He smiled.

  She couldn’t have stopped her answering smile if her life depended on it. She only hoped it didn’t look too sappy.

  He crossed the room towards her, drawing one or two curious glances. It was obvious he was moving with a purpose.

  “I hope you don’t mind me gate-crashing.” After all, he’d specified meeting him at midday.

  “I’m glad.” He clasped her hand.

  For two heartbeats they simply looked at each other, then he cleared his throat. “Come and meet the new CEO.”

  “You don’t have to entertain me. I’ll wait in a corner, or your office…”

  His hand tightened. “I like having you with me.”

  Her uncertainty melted like ice in summer and she walked beside him to where a tall, intense man spoke reservedly with a couple of middle-aged men, too expensively dressed to be journalists. Behind wire-framed glasses his light brown eyes were sharp as he watched Cate and Daniel approach. He had a narrow, wedge-shaped face, but when he smiled he changed completely from a powerful executive to a shy charmer.

  “A special guest?” he asked Daniel. The two men were obviously friends.

  “Cate Trapani, meet Tim Radjick.”

  One of the men standing beside Tim caught his breath sharply. The name Trapani was well-known in business circles and someone would soon remember the old gossip of her and Daniel’s broken engagement.

  Cate winced. What would the gossips say when they broke another engagement?

  “Nice to meet you, Cate.”

  Tim’s light, kind voice brought her back to the present.

  “Same here. Are you looking forward to your new job?”

  “Very much. Almost as much as Daniel is anticipating his freedom.” Tim grinned at his friend.

  Daniel took the jab easily. “Everyone needs new challenges.” He glanced at the crowd who were watching them with greater or lesser subtlety. “Shall we call this conference over?”

  “Yes,” Tim said with the deep feeling of a shy man forced into social stardom. He put down his coffee cup. “Let’s get out of this feeding zoo.”

  A couple of people tried to stop Daniel with questions, but he put them aside with polite determination. They separated from Tim just outside the door. With a cheerful “see you around” he went to his new office, while Daniel ushered Cate into the Chairman’s office.

  He shut the door with a decisive click, while she looked around.

  Boxes of material showed the recency of his move here. They balanced one atop another on the wide desk and on the floor. Apart from the boxes, the room suffered from a beige blandness. Hotel rooms were less impersonal.

  At least the floor length window had a view of the river, although it wasn’t as impressive as the one from his penthouse.

  “Come here.” Daniel leaned against the edge of his desk. He looked strong and dangerous, totally intent on her. Irresistible.

  He brought her into the V of his legs.

  She breathed in the warm scent of him and felt the strength of his thighs. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

  “That’s how I feel.” He unbuttoned her jacket and rested one hand in the small of her back. His other hand ran up her arm and stopped at the curve of her jaw. He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip.

  She gave in to the temptation to wet her lips, to touch her tongue to his thumb, to taste the saltiness and draw it into her mouth. She wanted to suckle on him. “No,” she whispered when he withdrew his hand.

  “Daniel?” She moaned as his hand closed over her breast.

  “I want to strip you, lay you out on this desk, and love you.”

  The mental image excited her. Her nipples peaked and strained against the lace of her bra. Her fingers dug into the smooth wool of his jacket. “Do it.”

  He groaned. “We have to walk out of this door some time and I don’t want everyone knowing what we were doing in here.”

  “They’ve probably guessed,” she said wryly, but the reminder cooled her fever a little. She could think despite the impact of his hand shaping her breast. “Do you have a desk at your penthouse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where do you want to have lunch?” Her daring
strengthened as the heat in his eyes burned. She touched the top of his thigh.

  “I had planned on eating out, but…” He stole a kiss. “Let’s go home.”

  He buttoned her back up and they acted like decorous strangers as they crossed the lobby and rode the lift down to the parking garage where the Ferrari waited.

  Cate buckled into the passenger seat and felt desire revving in her body like the roar of the car’s engine.

  As Daniel drove, she admired the male lines of his face and body, and imagined the strong hands on the steering wheel touching her, giving her pleasure.

  They stopped at a traffic light and the dark tint of the Ferrari gave them privacy. He placed a hand on her thigh, slid it down to her knee and then, achingly high.

  Her breath trembled as her responsive body prepared for love making. She wanted to melt into the slow rhythm of his hand rubbing up and down her thigh.

  The traffic lights changed and he withdrew his hand.

  She breathed shallowly. He’d shed his jacket and she saw the bulge of his suit trousers, and wished he weren’t driving or that she was less responsible. She wanted to tease him, as he’d teased her, to caress and cup him through the expensive cloth.

  She looked at the straight line of his mouth, taut with desire, and remembered last night. She thought of his lips tormenting her, kissing, sucking, biting, teaching her the delights of the flesh.

  “I can hear your breathing, Caty. Are you imagining us together?”

  “Yes.” A single, husky syllable.

  He stopped the car sharply in the penthouse car park, undid his seatbelt and kissed her hard.

  She welcomed the almost bruising pressure, responding from her own violent need.

  “Let’s get inside.” He undid her seatbelt, came around to her door and reached for her.

  “That’s what I like to see,” an elderly voice said. “Old-fashioned good manners.”

  Daniel’s hands dropped. He groaned under his breath. “Mrs Muller.”

  Cate giggled at his frustrated expression before he turned and politely greeted his neighbour.

  Mrs Muller was in her eighties, white haired and chatty. She inquired about Daniel’s mines. “Have you dug anymore?” and peered inquisitively, but short-sightedly at Cate, who Daniel positioned in front of him.

  She knew why. His arousal was too obvious for public view.

  The lift ride was an exercise in frustration, with Mrs Muller chatting happily. “I’ve just been to the library. I do like a good romance, don’t you? Of course, men won’t admit such a thing, but they like a happy ending as much as anyone.”

  Finally, they arrived at her floor and Daniel held the lift doors open for his neighbour. She tottered through, then looked back with a twinkle. “Be good, children. And if you can’t be good, have fun.”

  His stunned expression as the lift doors closed proved too much for Cate. She doubled over with laughter, and after a second, he joined her. They were still laughing when they reached the penthouse.

  They stripped each other between kisses and laughter, leaving a trail of clothing on the way to the bedroom.

  Much later, she managed a mock-complaint. “I thought we were going to use your desk here.”

  “Do you have boss and secretary fantasies?” he asked, intrigued.

  “Hmm. Maybe.” She’d never considered her fantasies before. It could be fun. “Do you have any fantasies?”

  “Definitely, Caty.”

  “So tell me.” She pouted when he paused.

  “After lunch I’ll show you.”

  She lifted herself onto an elbow to study his face. “Don’t you have to go back into the office?”

  “Not if I don’t want to, and I don’t want to.”

  They shrugged on robes, then ate sandwiches made from whatever they found in the fridge.

  “A good thing I went grocery shopping,” she said as he ate enthusiastically.

  “A very good thing.” He kissed her fingers. “I’d hate to have to dress and go out.”

  “We have to go out, tonight,” she reminded him.

  “I know. I don’t mind sharing you at a family dinner.”

  “That’s generous of you.”

  “I’m a generous kind of guy. So generous, that I’m going to share my fantasy with you.”

  “Oh, yes?” She let him lead her back to the bedroom.

  He took off his robe and dropped it on a chair, then lay down in the middle of the bed. He smiled up at her.

  “Now what?” she asked, bewildered.

  “Now I lie still and you make love to me.” His smile dared her, but a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes suggested this was a real fantasy he was sharing with her.

  It was the flicker of vulnerability that decided Cate.

  She let her satin robe slide off her body. “Do you promise not to move?”

  “I will try my very best.” But already his body was responding to the sight of her. “This time you’re in charge.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Although it was also daunting. She took a deep breath for courage, and to cast off the last of her shyness, then crawled up the bed and over him.

  She kissed his mouth, his throat, his flat male nipples. The stubs pointed and hardened, and she sucked them.

  He growled low in his throat, and his hands fisted by his sides as he struggled not to touch her.

  “Be good, Daniel. You promised.”

  “This fantasy is killing me. You’re killing me.”

  “And me. My breasts are aching for you.” She stretched out over him and brushed her breasts through his chest hair. The abrasion couldn’t satisfy her.

  “You could offer them to me.”

  “How?” She considered the problem. Daniel was flat on his back. If he was to suckle and relieve her throbbing breasts, she would need to…She knelt over him, and he sucked strongly, spinning her into pleasure so deep she thought she’d die. “Enough!”

  She slid down and for the first time wrapped her hand around the hard proof of his desire.

  His hips bucked.

  “Wait,” she instructed. She was exploring male strength and vulnerability.

  He groaned, and if anything, grew harder.

  She looked at his face and knew he couldn’t last much longer. Nor could she. She fumbled for a condom and rolled it on and down the length of him. She straddled him and took him deep, rising and falling until he thrust upward, his control breaking. Then she rode him, finding the rhythm he’d taught her, and they shattered together in a powerful climax. It was altogether too much. The sort of thing romantic movies promised and life wasn’t meant to be able to deliver.

  She curled against him as he idly tracing the line of her spine. “Did you like your fantasy?”

  His mouth softened in a way that made her ache. “Absolutely, Caty. I adore you.”

  “I liked your fantasy, too.” She nestled back against him. His fantasy had been a smart way of learning her pleasures, and challenging her to learn his body and pleasures. She smiled. Daniel was very clever. It made leaving him all the harder. He’d be impossible to forget.

  Then again, did any woman forget her first lover?

  She shivered, suddenly scared of the future, a Daniel-less future. It seemed bleak and unsatisfying, and she struck out at her fear. She had to remember her independence. Relying on someone else for pleasure, or anything else, made you vulnerable. “I’ve booked a ticket to Sydney for tomorrow.”

  “What?” He tensed beside her.

  “Well, Rob and Amie are okay, and they’re the reason I came here. I can’t stay forever, not on urgent personal leave from my job.”

  “Your job,” he said flatly.

  “Not all of us are newly retired,” she tried to tease him.

  “No,” he said it slowly, reluctantly. Then he moved with sudden decision. “If we’re to make Matt and Olivia’s dinner, we’d better hustle. Do you want to shower first, or should I?”

  “You.” She hud
dled up, feeling faintly chilled as she listened to the water run. Last night, they had showered together.

  She gathered up her robe and retreated to her own room to shower. Time to be sensible and return to real life. She had told Daniel of her ticket to Sydney; how could she complain when he’d acted on her reminder that what was between them was only a passing interlude?

  “Stop looking so stricken,” she muttered to her reflection and smoothed on some lip gloss. She dressed in jeans and her soft angora top. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked young and free, feminine yet practical. Independent.

  Daniel wore casual trousers and a cotton rugby shirt in white with a blue strip the colour of his eyes. He waited for her in the living area. “You’re beautiful.” He stretched out a hand to her, and a faint scowl drew his eyebrows together when she ignored it. “Your family will expect us to act like we’re in love.”

  “We don’t have to be over the top.” Cate made herself smile. “We never did get that engagement ring.”

  A stunned expression spread over his face. “I forgot.” Clearly, he didn’t forget many things.

  A case of wishful thinking? If you can’t see the ring, then this confused situation doesn’t exist?

  She shrugged. “We’ll tell them I’m being fussy and can’t find anything I like.”

  “No. You need a ring.”

  “I’m leaving, tomorrow. This way you’re saved the expense of a ring.”

  “And what about when you return for Amie and Rob’s wedding?”

  “I’ll borrow one,” she said flippantly.

  He scowled.

  She wasn’t happy either, but how could she admit she’d suddenly wondered what Amie and Rob’s wedding would mean. Would she be expected to act the loving fiancée and stay with Daniel in the penthouse? If she did, would they make love again? Would she survive it? Or worse, what if he was no longer interested in her? He was starting a new life, one without her.

  “I’ll buy you a ring.” His mouth set grimly. “Shall we go?”

  They took the four wheel drive, sitting high above other traffic on the road and hardly talking.

  Her dad had moved since Cate left six years ago, so she left the navigating to Daniel. She half-feared her dad would have bought one of the soulless new executive residences for the single wealthy, all hard angles and gloss paint without a plant in sight. Instead, and to her relief, he’d bought an old worker’s cottage, renovated into new charm and set in a well-maintained garden. A magpie sat on the white picket fence and regarded them with the beady eyes of ownership. They apparently passed muster since it offered a short carol before spreading sleek black and white wings and gliding a few metres to a neighbour’s front lawn.