Double Dare

by Saskia Walker

  His hand stayed locked over her until she slowed her movements and finally stilled. She wavered. Her body felt weak. He pulled free, supporting her until she fell against the wall for support. She watched, panting, as he removed the condom, knotting it. Her body gave a final shudder of release and she whimpered, her body sliding down against the wall.

  He dropped the rubber in the wastebasket, pulled up his zipper then reached for her. He kissed her mouth and stroked her body, calming her with his broad warm touch, his gentle kisses. She met his mouth anxiously, realizing that this was a new sensation—his mouth on hers in intimate, gentle kisses. His lips were firm and sensual. His hands on her were possessive, giving their shared kisses the deepest intimacy.

  "Alas, I've got to...move," he murmured. "I have an appointment." He pulled away from her slightly, a small frown gathering as he looked at her with curiosity. "But I'd like to entertain you again soon, in more salubrious surroundings."

  She moved her hands across his chest, touching his firm, leanly muscled chest through the soft material of his T-shirt. She wanted to see him naked.

  "Soon?" She looked at him, waiting to see his reaction.

  He nodded. "Tomorrow. Come to my place. I'll give you the address or...I could collect you and we could go for a drink?"

  She wondered vaguely why arranging to meet seemed to create a sense of awkwardness between them. Perhaps he didn't do dating? Perhaps that was all part of his elusive, mystery-man-persona?

  He arrested her in a tight grip and lifted her chin with his hand. "Do we have an arrangement?"

  "Yes, tomorrow, please."

  He straightened her G-string and his hand closed over her pussy. Heat surged up under his grip. She kissed his throat and she could taste the salt on his skin. She wanted him again, already. She would have to go soon or never leave.

  Mercifully he took his hand from her, pulled down the material of her dress and stroked it over her hips. He smiled down at her boots and bent to place a kiss on her bare thigh.

  As they went through the door she heard the music strike up again and turned to him, smiling suggestively.

  He urged her on. "You'd better go before I decide to lock you in here with me and throw away the key."

  "It sounds tempting." Their eyes locked for an instant, then he seemed to create distance between them. She felt it as clear and swift as a door opening on a cold winter's night.

  "Did you drive?"

  She shook her head.

  "I'll get Nathan to give you a lift," he murmured and she let her hand fall away from him.

  She nodded. "Thanks."

  "You've got my card. Call me whenever you're ready to meet."

  Nathan appeared and looked at the two of them, a suppressed smile obvious in his expression.

  Zac tossed him a bunch of keys. "Take Abby wherever she wants to go."

  She followed Nathan out to the street, turning to take another look at Zac as she went. He stood in the doorway, his posture that of a graceful but predatory animal. She felt the warm heat still glowing inside her from their joining. She still had the taste of him in her mouth and smiled back before they turned the corner.

  Nathan led her to a silver two-seater Mercedes and held the door for her. He watched the swing of her hips, the slide of booted leg and bare thigh as she climbed into the car. She glanced at him as they sped off. He was smiling to himself. He could probably smell the sex on her.

  Abby didn't care.

  She'd stepped away from her life and she was having an affair with a mystery man.

  She gave Nathan her address, then closed her eyes and savored every second over again.

  * * * *

  Back at the venue Zac once again entered the sequence of numbers into the keypad stage left and walked down the corridor, past the dressing rooms and beyond. He ran nimbly up the narrow flight of stairs to the offices. Another key code entered him into his private sanctuary. The lights went on.

  The room was his stronghold. Sparse yet comfortable, two long, leather Chesterfields on opposite walls flanked a large glass desk mounted on ornate wrought iron struts. He put his keys on the surface with a gentle chime and sat down, gazing at the expanse of heavy glass in front of him. He had intended to have her over the desk, but hadn't been able to restrain himself long enough to get her up the stairs. Maybe another time.

  He flicked on his PC. The machine whirred quickly, the screen flicking through directories. His eyes narrowed as he located the online Robertson dossier and Abby's corporate image filled the screen.

  A knowing smile teased the corners of his mouth.

  Her hair was swept up and clipped back, in line with her corporate image. She looked sophisticated, immaculate, but even in this official context he could see the wild side of Abby just beneath the beautiful surface, and within his grasp.

  He scanned her credentials yet again, his eyes flickering quickly over the list of accounts she had worked on over the past two years, looking for a clue he might have missed. They were well known corporations. She'd been given challenging contracts and successfully enhanced them.

  "Well, well, Ms. Douglas," he whispered to the screen. "Are you truly the portal to all these good things, or are you playing some other game?"

  She was intelligent. It wouldn't take much digging on her behalf to find out he was the Ashburn heir. Putting his name into Google would take care of that, a string of old news articles reporting what his mother called his 'gallivanting years,' the times when he concentrated on spending money instead of earning it. He was barely out of the gossip columns for a while back then, until he'd grown to hate that.

  If Abby already knew about the connection, why was she still pretending to be a receptionist? He could almost feel his Mother's genes beating out their concern in his blood.

  Abigail Douglas was now in charge of the account. She had enough confidence to take down a major corp. single-handedly, and with her sassy sex appeal thrown into the bargain she could be a powerful weapon. Could she have some nefarious purpose in tracking him down, commencing a sexual liaison with him? Something bound to her intentions for the Ashburn account? Could he take that risk?

  He had to face it, he already had. And things were getting more complicated by the moment. He'd had a taste of her and he wanted more.

  By the time Nathan returned to the office, he'd entered every possible scenario into his analysis and he'd become increasingly tense about the whole set up, because all he wanted to do was fuck her again.

  He stood up, pacing the length of the room as he spoke. "Where does she live?"

  "The south east, an apartment, Greenwich way."

  Zac nodded, both cautious and thoughtful. "Alone?"

  "It looked that way."

  "I want you to find out for sure. I want to know everything we can find out about her. She works with Robertson, she's actually managing the Ashburn investments and yet she's turned up pretending to be a little nobody out for a good time."

  Nathan's eyebrows shot up. He gave a low appreciative whistle.

  "I've checked her out and, professionally, she's good at what she does...although she's quite the risk-taker." Zac tapped his chin with one finger. What risk might she be running here, and was it on behalf of her boss, or was she acting alone? Or am I as suspicious of everyone as my dear Mama?

  He ignored the mocking voice in his head, reminding himself that he'd given her an invitation. That might be why she'd come. But why lie about her job?

  "For some reason she isn't mentioning that she's a money manager, which is odd. I don't know for sure if she is aware of my relationship with the Ashburn Company, but it makes things...complicated."

  Nathan nodded. Robertson was under their scrutiny anyway, but what it had to do with the woman was another issue.

  "Any reason why you don't confront her, ask her why she's lying about her job?"

  Zac shrugged. "I might do that, but I want to find out what she's up to first." He just had to keep his head long enou
gh to find out more, and that might be the hard part.

  "I'd like to know what else she's doing, if she's in league with anyone outside Robertson corp. and if there is a reason for her little deception."

  "No problem, I can handle that."

  Zac looked at him meaningfully. "These are the family heirlooms she's playing with."

  In more ways than one.

  "I want to know what she's up to."

  Chapter Four

  Suzanne popped her head round the doorway into Abby's office. "Let me know if there's anything you need sent out. I'll be heading home in an hour."

  Abby glanced at the time display on her monitor. It was gone five. "Thanks, Suz. Nothing for collection. You got a moment?" She gave her a grin and wink, indicating gossip.

  Suzanne shut the door and barreled over. "Oh yes, you went man hunting on Saturday night, didn't you? So, how did it go?"

  "It was a great night. I wish you'd been there. The show was a lot of fun, very sexy."

  "And did you find the guy?"

  "Yes, his name is Zac. He works there, as well as the courier thing, and he was well worth hunting down."

  Suzanne's eyes widened. "Come on, spill. What did you do, take him home?"

  "He was working on Saturday night but he asked me to call again, so I went back on Sunday." She couldn't help chuckling. Relating the weekend to Suzanne made it feel so much more real. Zac made it feel as if she had a secret lover—that she was launching into the dangerous affair she'd dared herself to go after. It was an odd mix of emotions that she felt when she realized that. She liked the secret affair angle, but sharing it was good too.

  Suzanne clapped. "What a tenacious lady, I love it. And was he worth the effort?"

  She nodded. "I'm seeing him again tonight."

  "You go girl." Suzanne beamed. "And don't forget to let me know if he has any single friends."

  "Will do."

  "Right, I better get on and do my last call on everyone else."

  "Cheers, Suzanne. I'll be on my way out in about twenty minutes."

  Suzanne waved and shot off to complete her scout for post and the evening head count.

  Abby was just about to switch off her monitor for the day when the 'new mail' icon flashed up.

  "Well, what do you know?" She hadn't expected to hear back from Adrianna Ashburn until the next morning. She'd only just sent her latest report through, and here was the permission to go ahead with her latest recommendations. "The formidable Adrianna must have been waiting by her computer," she murmured to herself.

  Her report included fast track proposals, so she'd assumed the client would need time, maybe even some convincing. The Ashburn portfolio owned shares in an online domain company and she felt sure the shares were going to peak soon. She'd requested permission to trade in before a possible down turn, stating her reasons and suggesting it was a good time to gain maximum return. It was a fast payback system and she used it to underpin her other more unusual investments.

  She hadn't expected the formidable Adrianna—as she'd forever be known—to agree so quickly, but she supposed a business woman had to be able to act fast to get a reputation like hers. The mail confirmed that the release documents would be printed, signed and returned to the Robertson offices by courier, for her action first thing in the morning. Abby couldn't help wondering if Adrianna had noticed that the work had been paced up a notch since she'd taken charge.

  She sent a swift acknowledgement and flicked off the monitor. Anything else could wait. She had her reward to enjoy. Standing, she lifted her mobile phone and Zac's business card. She'd left both items on her desk as her personal goal for the day. Smiling, she tapped the number into her mobile phone, adding it to the memory. As it rang out she set the card back on the desk, still looking down at it. It was unusual, she noticed, no title. Just his name and three numbers. The venue card had no names and one number. How many cards did this guy have?

  The sound of his voice distracted her from the question. "Zac Bordino."

  "Hello, it's Abby...have I called at a convenient moment?"

  "Abby," he chuckled. "You know, I had a feeling you might call right about now."

  She was gratified to hear the interest in his voice when he realized it was her. "Good. I thought I'd see if your offer to entertain me again was still on."

  "Yes indeed."

  The sound of his voice washed over her, warming her right through. She gave a breathless laugh, pacing her office as they spoke.

  "Name a meeting point and I'll be there," he added.

  "Do you know The Bankers Draft? It's a pub on Carver Street, near the building you delivered documents to."

  "I know it." There was humor in his voice.

  Of course he knows it. He's a courier, they know where everything is.

  "I'll be there in about half an hour."

  There was a distinct note of interest in his voice when he replied and Abby smiled as she put down the phone, her pulse beating out a demanding rhythm.

  She darted to the slim wooden locker that was neatly housed out of view behind the door. She always kept a couple of outfits and a make-over kit in there, in case an unexpected social occasion arose that she was obliged to attend with a new client or another member of the team. She had a choice, a suit in midnight blue that was a particularly flattering cut, black palazzo pants and a green shantung silk top, or a black satin dress. She picked up the satin dress, letting it run through her fingers. The material was fluid and sensuous. She pulled it out and retrieved her make up purse from the top shelf.

  When she was done, she stopped at the reception post, but Suzanne wasn't there. Her laughter sounded down the corridor. Glancing at her watch, she realized she probably didn't have time to wait and say goodnight.

  Outside, the sky was the color of melting honey, shimmering, marking the turn of a hot day in the city. She loved London more than ever when it was like this, when its fast moving currents began to change on the ebb of the day. The city became sexier, vibrant in a different way, as if a dark spirit lover had invaded its character. Like her own dark lover, mysterious and seductive.

  She'd had a good day, and it wasn't over yet. She was high on the excitement of living and looked over the accounts with an eye for the daring, the risk that would pay off. It wasn't so much the financial gain that thrilled her, it was the ability to judge, the power to move in a certain way at the right moment. She smiled to herself. It was just like sex, and that was pacing up a notch for her, too. Several notches, in fact. She'd had trouble keeping her steamy encounter with Zac out of mind. Anticipation for more of the same had her blood racing.

  Her body jolted to a halt. "Damn."

  The heel of her shoe had caught in the pavement and she dropped back to rescue it. As she did, a sudden sense of unease washed over her. She felt the scrutiny of an onlooker. The thinning crowd of pedestrians moved on around her. She glanced back over her shoulder just as a car shot by with open windows pumping out a loud, bass-driven tune. The passenger whistled in her direction as the vehicle sped past.

  Freeing her shoe, she shook off the notion and headed on.

  * * * *

  On the opposite side of the street, Nathan stepped further back into the alcove he'd chosen to wait out her departure from the building. For a split second, he thought she was going to look over and spot him watching from the shadows. It made him realize he didn't feel entirely comfortable with this task.

  Life was never dull when he was working for Zac, that was for sure, but this took the biscuit. Zac had never asked him to do anything quite as dodgy as digging the dirt on his current piece of fluff. He didn't mind hunting for information by asking questions, or looking stuff up, but for a second there he wondered what the fuck he was doing. He often felt that, working for Zac. He was an edgy guy, always curious about the way stuff worked, always alert. Now he wanted to know what his latest conquest was up to behind the scenes, and he wanted Nathan to find out.

  She wouldn't reco
gnize him though. He'd made sure of that. He was wearing a black beanie hat and sunglasses, his oldest Motorhead t-shirt and jeans. Even if she had seen him, he looked entirely different to when he'd driven her home the night before.

  He watched as she headed down the street. She surely was a looker. Not his type, but he could see why Zac was so keen to give her one. She looked like a great shag, but you could maybe take her home to meet the family afterwards. A lot classier than the women Zac used to hang out with, during his playboy years.

  As Abby turned the corner and disappeared, he flipped open his mobile phone.

  Zac answered as soon as it rang out.

  "She's on her way."

  "Cheers. You've got that paperwork I gave you for cover?"

  "Yes, no worries." The document dispatch package rested easily in his hand. Not that he needed an excuse. He'd been prepared to wing it without one.

  "Find out what you can."

  "Anything I should be aware of?"

  Zac took his time to reply. "The receptionist is a cute blonde."

  Nathan laughed. "Heh. Nice one. I'm there already." He folded the phone into his pocket and made his way into the building.

  The entrance vestibule was huge. Polished steel and mirrors, reflective surfaces everywhere. The uniformed security guard at the doorway frowned at him. Nathan saluted as he walked by, scanning for the elevators behind the cover of his sunglasses as he did so. A surge of people from a corridor to the left clued him in. They wore weary expressions and walked with a pace that showed him they were heading home at the end of a workday. He grinned to himself, popping a stick of chewing gum into his mouth as he strode round the corner and into the elevator.

  During the ride up to the Robertson Corporation offices, a guy in a suit looked across at him with a wary expression. He was used to that. It was his build, mostly. The face didn't help. He had the sort of looks that invited trouble. If you look like a thug people will sure as hell treat you as one. He had the scars to prove it.