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Temporary Spy
ISBN # 978-0-85715-712-6
©Copyright Lynne Connolly 2011
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2011
Edited by Lisa Cox
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.
Tempting Temps
TEMPORARY SPY
Lynne Connolly
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Boss: The Hugo Boss Group
Armani: Giorgio Armani Corporation
Savoy: Savoy Hotel Group
Givenchy: Givenchy, Inc.
Chapter One
“She’s impossible.”
Finlay glanced up from his laptop and gave his PA a sweet smile. “Another temp you want to kick into touch? What’s wrong with this one?”
Joy threw up her hands. “Ditzy. I just caught her filing Citiseal’s information under Sealistic. I won’t find anything after she’s gone.”
Finlay folded his arms across his chest and studied Joy. This was about more than the new temp.
He knew his polite rejection of Joy’s offer to accompany him on his recent business trip to Rome had rankled, but after he’d discovered that she’d ordered one room with one bed, not two, he’d had no choice. Rome was only one small nail in the coffin of his relationship with his PA.
He’d pretended he hadn’t known she’d only booked one room, and that if the travel company hadn’t called to confirm he’d never have discovered it until they’d arrived. She’d stared at him in total incomprehension when he’d told her he’d be going alone. “But I always come with you!” she’d protested.
In a different room. “I’ve taken up too much of your time recently,” he’d replied. “I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to give up another four days for another useless conference.” Her dismay had been palpable, but he’d pretended not to notice.
He leant back in his wide leather office chair and smiled up at her. “After you’ve sorted the temp’s misfiling, why don’t you take some time off? Go somewhere you want, do something you want.”
He knew what she wanted, but she wasn’t getting it. No way would he go there, not now. Joy had been the best PA he’d ever had, or so he’d thought. He’d even wondered if he should forget his scruples and take her to bed. There was no doubting her attractiveness, neat figure, long blonde hair usually worn loose down her back, and a flawless complexion, but she didn’t do it for him. No spark, no fire, and he never mixed business and pleasure. He’d told himself it wouldn’t be fair on either of them, but by then he’d recognised the steely ambition under the skimpy underwear she’d let him see more than once.
She shrugged. “I might do that. Thanks.” The look of disappointment she sent him said anything but ‘thanks’.
He returned to the subject of the temp. “I’ll talk to the woman, if you want. But not yet. Send her in at five.”
“Sure. I’ll watch her until then.” Her mouth turned in a sneer. “Maybe teach her the alphabet.”
Joy turned, making sure he got a good eyeful of her sassy rear, which was clad in a pencil skirt so tight she might as well not have bothered. She turned back before she left, hand on the door handle, as if asking him to change his mind. “Anything else?”
“Not right now, Joy. I have a report to finish.”
She pouted and left.
Finlay sighed in relief and put his hands behind his head, relaxing his cramped muscles before he carried on with his work. He had three straight hours in front of him. It should be enough.
Beth stretched, raising hands to the sky. “What time is it?”
Joy favoured her with a glance. “A quarter to five. The boss wants to see you at five. Chances are he’ll send you back to the agency.”
“What makes you say that?” She got it, she really did. Joy wanted Finlay. Well, as far as she was concerned, Joy was welcome to him. She was here to pay back a debt, that was all. And to see justice done in the best traditions of a superhero. Pity she wasn’t one, but she did her best to behave like a reasonable human being, unlike some people not too far away from here.
She grimaced. She had rather overdone it, screwing up the filing. Maybe if she made up for it in the next hour it would give Finlay a chance to rehire her. Not that he knew she was here. After all, she’d only started two days ago when he’d been in Rome and she was only here until she’d accomplished her task.
She stared at her computer screen. Joy had given her some standard letters to type, print and send. Her typing wasn’t perfect, but she could manage the computer formatting. She had the same programme at home. So she set to it and, by five, she had half a dozen letters typed and printed out, ready for his signature. Glancing up from her screen, she gave Joy a tentative smile. “I’m sorry about the filing. I guess I was nervous.”
Joy sniffed and leaned against the copier, folding her arms across her chest. “I daresay. But you’ll have to put in some fancy talking if you want to stay here.”
“I do. Is fancy talking all that’s required?” She gave a winsome smile, and rested her arms on the sides of her chair.
Joy glared at her. “He doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Ever.”
Beth made sure Joy saw the up and down she gave her, paying special attention to that tight red skirt. “You could have fooled me.”
“It’s actually very comfortable. I wear it a lot.” I bet you do. But Beth didn’t say it aloud. The skirt showed the cleft between her buttocks. Puppies in a sack, she’d thought as she’d watched Joy sashay into Finlay’s office earlier.
Beth had actually suffered a pang of jealousy—her first for, well, two years. Nearly three. She’d worked so hard in the intervening years, she’d hardly noticed the time going by. Until, that was, she lay in her bed at night. Alone.
Joy gave her a warmer smile. “This is his favourite skirt. He never says, but I can tell. He was disappointed when I couldn’t go to Rome with him last week, but it couldn’t be helped. I think one of those letters you’re typing was thanks to the hotel? He likes to do that.” She sighed. “He wants to be sure of the room next time.”
She had noticed that. Joy had booked a one-bedroom suite. “He takes you every time?”
“Always,” Joy purred. “He wouldn’t go without me.”
Her inference was clear. Keep off! In a perverse way, Beth felt glad that Joy would even see her as a rival.
Beth gathered the papers together and tidied the edges, doing her best to ignore he
r trembling hands. She had to face him sooner or later. “Should I go in now, or wait until he calls for me?”
Joy grinned at her. “Go in, just knock and enter. He likes punctuality and he doesn’t like formality.”
Why did she suspect that friendly smile? Probably for good reason. But she did as Joy told her, knocked and went straight in.
Finn’s head jerked up. “Didn’t Joy tell you not to come in until…” His voice tailed off. “Fuck, oh fuck.” He sounded entirely different now, unsure and astonished.
“Where have you been? Where did you come from?”
Too late to retreat. He knew her, and nothing had changed from the last time they’d seen each other. Except that the desire between them seemed to have increased, if anything. She hadn’t thought that possible, had hoped it had died. Some hope.
Beth closed the door hastily as he got to his feet and rounded the desk, heading for her with a determination she couldn’t avoid. She took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. Her back hit the door as he reached her, and she got barely a glimpse of his eyes, hot with passion, before his mouth descended on hers.
All her good intentions melted when his arms enclosed her, all thoughts of keeping her distance disappeared. Hunger replaced reason.
With his mouth locked to hers, she knew they wouldn’t stop there, wanted more of him. His mouth worked hers, persuaded her to open to him and he took possession, eating at her as if he’d starved for a year or more. She knew because she’d felt the same way. She gripped his forearms, felt handfuls of crisp shirt fabric, and held on. Her head went back under the pressure of his, hitting the door with another thud.
He dragged his mouth away from hers, but only to stare at her, as if he couldn’t believe it. “Oh my God, you’re here, it’s really you!” With a groan, he settled his mouth on hers again. And this time he put his hands to work, gripping her waist then sliding up, bringing her top with them. He kissed down her neck to the place where her throat met her shoulders and she was toast. Lost. She breathed deep, inhaling the scent of shampoo and Boss and him. It felt like coming home.
But a home filled with turbulence. Shock reverberated through her system, but he was already replacing it with desire and swiftly escalating it to desperate need. He touched her bare skin and she shuddered, then he undid the buttons of her top and she helped him, let him draw it off her and toss it aside. His gaze stroked her with an intensity that made her shudder. As he watched, she lifted away from the door, took her hands off him and reached behind to unhook her bra.
When her breasts tumbled free, his hands were waiting to capture them. He gasped when he touched them, but she nearly drowned the sound he made with her soft moan. “I didn’t come for this.”
“But this is what you’re going to get.” His low, trembling voice increased the intimacy between them, his hot breath gusting against her skin, raising goosebumps where it touched her. He caressed her breasts, cupped the soft weights with his hands, the calluses rasping deliciously against her. She shuddered and pushed herself into him, urging him to do more.
“Come here.” In a sudden movement, he released her, grabbed her waist and pulled her even closer. His starched shirt hit her bare skin, the warmth of his body underneath tantalising her with its propinquity. She ripped at the fabric between them until it separated at the front. Then, with a sigh of relief, she touched him, slid her hands over the hard curves of his heated flesh and the tiny points of his nipples, as hard as hers were.
“Finn, oh, Finn.”
“Beth!” He half carried, half dragged her to the sofa set on one side of the room. The creak of leather as he laid her on it hardly registered but the sound increased when he came to lie on top of her. She opened her thighs and he settled between them, the hard ridge of his erection fitting into the notch of her sex as if it had been created to be there. She moaned and embraced it with her thighs, squirming against him to feel the most that she could. He stopped her restless movements with a hard, fierce kiss before pulling away to glance down at her trousers. He grinned and popped the button at the top. After that, the zip fell victim to his insistence and she used her elbows to lift her body so he could rid her of them and her knickers.
Before he dropped them, he held the scrap of silk to his nose and inhaled. The wetness between her thighs increased, heat blossomed and she reached for him. But it was his turn to tease her.
He delved into the back pocket of his trousers for his wallet and tossed it down between her spread thighs while he divested himself of the rest of his clothing. Tight black briefs outlined his cock, the flaring ridge of the head, the strong shaft rearing below. She wanted him so much she knew if he walked away now, she’d frig herself stupid in an effort to relieve herself of the mass of tension tying her nerves into knots. And she’d fail. Because right now, only he would do what she needed. And judging by the desperation lighting his dark eyes, he felt the same.
He opened his wallet, found the condom marking a ring into the soft leather, shelled it, dragged down his boxers and donned the protection, in what was almost a single move. Then he was on her, his hot body surrounding her, his hand touching her. He slid his finger down to her pussy, stroked her crease and she nearly bucked him off the sofa with her reaction. “Easy, easy. I get it, you’re ready.”
With a smothered laugh, he slid his rampant cock between her thighs, to bathe it in the wetness her body had created in preparation for him. He moved it on her, rubbing his flesh against hers, inciting her clit to an almost unbearable level of need.
Without him having to ask her, she lifted her legs and twined them around his waist, pressing her heels into his buttocks, urging him in. With a moan, he grabbed the back of her head and held her steady for his deep, penetrating kiss, while he breached her and plunged inside.
She clung, he thrust, neither of their movements anything but involuntary. She arched her back, pushing her pussy into even closer contact, grinding her clit against the mesh of his pubic hair, crying out wordlessly as he pounded into her with the inevitability of the addicted.
Her flailing hands found his shoulders, needing something to hold on to while he took her on the ride of her life.
Her first climax came quickly, within the first half a dozen strokes, and he drank her cries in his mouth, kissing her with a desperation she responded to with alacrity. He dragged his mouth away, staring at her as if afraid she’d melt into the soft cream leather of the sofa and disappear. She knew why he looked at her like that, but she wished he wouldn’t.
She tried to pull him down for another kiss, tried to distract him but he wouldn’t release his gaze on her, watching her while he took her up and into another orgasm, gritting his teeth as her soft cries grew more desperate, as she worked her clit against him. Then he reached down and touched. One tweak was all it took and she exploded again. His slave, as always.
Only then, watching her still, did he come, giving her all he had. His cry of fulfilment sounded like paradise to her. She wanted more. God help her, she wanted it all.
Chapter Two
“Where did you go?” He hadn’t let her go, hadn’t let her up to dress when, with a sudden wave of embarrassment, she’d pushed against his chest. He covered her hands with one of his and urged her back down. “Stay here and rest. I want to know. Where did you go when you left me?”
She had to tell him. She hadn’t ever imagined it happening like this, though. She’d come to pay a debt, to clear the air so they could both move on. Not this. “Nowhere, not really. I stayed in London.”
“And you came back to me.” He stroked a possessive hand down her side. Beth repressed her shudder.
Too late to explain she hadn’t wanted to get involved again. “I thought I owed you. And after three years, I was sure you didn’t feel the same. You might have moved on. I was ready for that.” Even if it meant Joy.
He grimaced. “I tried. At first I tried. I was so angry, so confused. But I’ve never been one to chase after an impossible dre
am, so I gave up trying to forget you. I looked everywhere for you when you disappeared. What happened?”
She owed him an explanation, but she didn’t know what to tell him, how far she could go. Their recent lovemaking had changed everything. “I went back to my maiden name. I’d been meaning to do it for a while.”
“So, Elizabeth Jordan. Yes, I saw the name on the agency list. I didn’t associate it with you.”
She shrugged, which was difficult with one shoulder against the warm leather. “I forgot about the name change.” He didn’t believe her—he had a cynical light in his eyes. But he said nothing, just waited. “Okay, I didn’t forget. I thought it best we had a clean break. We were finished.”
He cupped her chin and tilted her head up so she had to meet his perceptive gaze. “Were we really finished? I never thought a proposal of marriage meant we were over.”
“I—couldn’t. I said no, and I explained why I couldn’t.”
“Because you didn’t love me. Because you didn’t want to commit again. Do you still feel like that?”
Lying to him now was in a way worse than it had ever been. “Yes. I do. Physical attraction doesn’t make a complete relationship.”
He said nothing, but stroked her hair, which caught on the rough skin of his hands. Looking for a distraction, she found something. A man working in an office all day didn’t have calluses like his. “Are you still going to the sites?”
“Of course. It’s the only way I can be sure things are going right.” He touched his lips to her forehead and smoothed her hair back with a hand so gentle she could believe she’d never seen his raw strength when he wielded a lump hammer. “Besides, I enjoy it. Winston Churchill built walls of bricks. I build houses.”
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