by Robyn Grady
Could she blame him for not listening? Her body was telling her not to listen, too.
‘David, I’m worn out.’ Physically. Emotionally. All of a sudden she was ready to crumple.
His smile was crooked. ‘Should I consider that a compliment?’
She ignored that. ‘These weeks have been full on.’ And she’d loved every minute of it. Making decisions. Ensuring things were done right. It had made her ultimate goal seem achievable. She would get there.
David’s expression deepened. His head angled as he cupped her chin and searched her eyes. ‘You are tired.’ He brushed his lips over her temple. ‘I’ll drive you home.’
Oh, God, did he have to touch her like that? It made leaving a thousand times more difficult. She didn’t want to think about Monday, when she’d see him next. How would she feel? Would she have changed her mind? Would common sense prevail? Or would she beg him to kiss her again?
‘The limo Jezz organized is still out front,’ she let him know. ‘I’ll take that. We’ll talk Monday.’
She tried to move away, but he held her, then curled that stray wisp behind her ear. His worried gaze probed hers. ‘You sure you’re all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘I just need some me time.’ She forced a smile. ‘You know how us girls are.’
His expression said he didn’t have a clue.
‘Serena, I want you to know that today meant a lot to me.’
He was sincere, she was certain. Could she be any less honest? ‘It meant a lot to me, too.’
He seemed pleased with that. ‘I’ll walk you to the car.’ She should decline, but another few moments in David’s company weren’t that easy to resist.
As they moved off he took her hand and lightly swung it. ‘And on Monday…’
She waited. ‘Yes? What about Monday?’
He tipped sideways towards her. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘WHERE the hell is she?’
David stood in the doorway of Serena’s office, arms bracing the jambs, brain going round in circles, then in reverse. Monday morning. Ten past eleven. Usually she was in by eight.
He shot a look over one shoulder. Mandy Rogers from Accounts stopped her journey and blinked. ‘Do you want something, Mr Miles?’
‘Where’s Serena?’ His gaze scanned the room as he strode towards her. Memories of the weekend infused his mind, but he concentrated and set his jaw against the sting in his gut. ‘Has she come in yet?’
He’d already gone through the cafeteria, Administration, every department, even the mailroom. The excuse she’d used Saturday night—she was tired, wanted to go home—echoed in his head and that sting in his gut pinched again.
Face tipped up, Mandy gaped at him with eyes wide as dinner plates. ‘I haven’t seen her yet.’ She raised a finger and pointed. ‘Maybe someone in Data might know.’
No, he’d been there. Twice.
He shovelled a hand through his hair, and again.
Maybe he should just wait in his office. But these questions and doubts whirling through his brain…
He stopped his raised hand before it ploughed through his hair a third time.
He was overreacting. He wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He had faith in Serena. What they’d shared on Saturday wasn’t something anyone would enjoy then just toss away. It wasn’t the same as their night in the booth. That had been wonderful, but this had been more. They’d moved on from impulse. Taken that next step.
He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, on getting back to his office.
And what about her work commitments? Leaving him in the lurch would be the last thing she’d do. He depended on her to keep this campaign on track. Depended on her to keep it all afloat till Jezz was back in full swing. And while it didn’t sit well with him to depend on anyone as much as he depended on Serena right now, he could trust her integrity. Just because she was younger than him didn’t mean she didn’t have standards.
His clenched fist swung sideway and slammed the wall.
If Sturts had gone behind his back, he’d cream the bastard.
Pint-sized Mary Charters tried to trot by. He blocked her and she staggered back, freckled face alarmed.
‘Serena Stevens.’ He made himself breathe. ‘Know where she is?’
‘Sorry, Mr Miles. I never go to that side of the building.’
When he nodded, she scurried away.
He needed to sit down with a big steaming cup of black coffee. Tilda could make it extra strong. He’d immerse himself in the Squeezy Orange Juice campaign and, before he knew it, Serena would come bouncing through his door with a good reason why she hadn’t answered either her home or cell phone yesterday or this morning.
He trudged into his office.
She couldn’t have forgotten their unbelievable afternoon. How she’d soaped up his back and he’d lathered her legs. That first time, when she’d cried out, would remain etched in his memory for ever. Water slipping over limbs, simple touches working miracles…
His chest tightened.
Maybe she’d had an accident.
Tilda looked up from her keyboard. ‘Did you find her?’
He pushed in his office door. ‘I need the Juice campaign press ideas and coffee.’ He saw her owlish expression but couldn’t manage a smile. Massaging the knot in his neck, he exhaled and shook his head. ‘No, I haven’t found her.’
The door swung shut and his intercom buzzed. He forced his feet to move. Keep busy. Stay focused. He wouldn’t let feelings get a hold of his throat. That was not the way he did things. Not any more. He’d learnt, damn it.
The yachts and Opera House shells looked cardboard today. The city surge below antlike, unimportant.
The intercom sounded again. He stared at his desk, uninterested, then depressed the button. ‘Tilda, I need that coffee extra strong and now.’
‘Mary Charters just rang,’ Tilda told him. ‘She saw Serena heading towards the paintbox department.’
Immediate streams of relief doused the pain. David fell against his desk and almost laughed. She was here. In this building. Of course she was!
Out the door, he blew Tilda a kiss. ‘Don’t worry about that coffee. Don’t worry about Squeezy Juice. Or any calls. I’m unavailable.’
After the launch, out on the terrace, it had been all he could do not to sling Serena over his shoulder, carry her upstairs and rip that honey of a dress straight off her body. Throughout the auction, he’d grinned in anticipation of her linking her arms around his neck again, of reinventing their earlier adventures, adding some new stuff—there was still so much to learn.
At the time, the pool house had been incredibly satisfying. In fact, the sense of fulfilment had almost frightened him. His mind had whispered about work, the launch, what should be most important. But all bells had been drowned, like pebbles in a rapid, by passion and driving need.
Was Serena the one?
He rounded the last corner, a horse on the home stretch.
He’d get an explanation, make it clear that he’d been worried. She’d soothe him, they’d laugh.
Then he’d give her his surprise.
‘Serena.’
She glanced up from the artwork she and Dot Booney were working on and almost gasped. David’s voice was unmistakable, but she hadn’t braced herself for the striking vision that filled the doorway. Black trousers, crisp white shirt, no tie, and eyes stormy enough to stop her heart from beating.
She couldn’t tell—was passion the cause of such intensity, or was she in deep trouble?
She set down her pen and looped some hair behind her ear. No use believing she could put off the inevitable. She had to face this some time. Better to get it over and done with.
‘Hello, David.’
Dot shuffled aside as David crossed the distance separating them. His eyes burned into hers as a smile cut across his face. ‘Where have you been? You worried the hell out of me.’
The smile flinched. ‘And you didn’t bother to tell anyone?’
She swallowed the lump that had swollen in her throat and moved to the copying machine in the corner. ‘I wanted to get an errand out of the way early. I thought I’d be back by nine.’ She collected a pile of quarto sketches, faced him and arched her brow. ‘Should I have checked it with you first?’
David kept his gaze on Serena. ‘Dot?’ The older woman jumped from her startled state. ‘Would you excuse us for a moment?’ Dot and her size-twenty red overalls bolted from the room. As the door swung half closed behind her David’s chin lifted and his broad shoulders rolled back. ‘That explains this morning. What about yesterday?’
She coughed out a laugh. ‘Would you like a copy of my personal itinerary from now on?’ Sleeping together didn’t give him the right to know where she was every minute of the day. Or think that he should decide for her.
His brows nudged together and face set more. ‘You didn’t answer your phone.’
Avoiding his eyes, she took a seat behind the desk. ‘I turned it off.’
‘Didn’t you think I might want to speak with you?’
She bit down against a pang of guilt. Yes, she’d known he’d want to speak to her. See her. Hold her. That was why she’d made herself unavailable.
Needing something to occupy her hands, she collected a pencil and pretended to correct a magazine layout. ‘I visited my father. I only decided early Sunday.’
Settling down to work in her apartment had been out of the question and Carly had been busy training at her karate dojo. She always called her dad on his birthday; despite his ‘father knows best’ routine, they still loved each other. Besides, being surrounded by memories of her mother—being in her family home—helped whenever she felt uncertain or upset.
‘And you stayed there all night?’
Her gaze flew at him. Was that an accusation? ‘And if I did?’
He raised his shoulders and opened up his palms. ‘Didn’t you think about me?’
She’d tried not to think at all! Confused, torn down the middle. How easy would it be to fall into a full-blown relationship? Too easy.
She adored David’s company, his wit, the way he made her feel so special and unique. If only she’d been any other girl with any other dream. But she didn’t want a partner. She wanted to go on with her life the way she’d planned. How could she do that if they continued seeing each other behind the scenes? If she fell in love, her choices would disappear.
She dropped the pencil.
But he was right. She shouldn’t have cut him off yesterday. And, to be honest, some part of her delighted at his concern. What if he hadn’t tried to contact her till later today? Or tomorrow? What would that have done to her self-esteem?
She exhaled. ‘Well, I’m here now.’ And calmer, thank heavens. ‘What did you want to see me about?’
He moved towards her. ‘When we left the terrace, I said you’d have to wait till Monday? You don’t remember?’
Those words? How he’d swung her through the air? The way his mouth had pressed and murmured against her brow?
She nodded. ‘I remember.’
He frowned over a crooked grin. ‘I thought you might be curious.’
Of course she was. She’d tried not to think about his tease. Did he want to give her a bonus? Given their weekend, she’d find that an insult. Or possibly he had in mind something more personal.
During their hours in the pool house he’d whispered how he loved her enthusiasm. Well, maybe it was time she reined back. She didn’t want gifts, if that was what this was about. She wanted his respect as a colleague.
When she didn’t answer, he moved to hook a hip over a desk corner and tip towards her. ‘Would you like to guess?’
Her skin flashed hot.
Guess? She had work to do, schedules to meet. The work she was trying to get done was important to him, too.
She leant back in her chair. ‘I really don’t have time right now.’ It was true. ‘I have those proposals—’ she clutched a handful of paper ‘—and this artwork—’
He snatched her hand as it waved by. ‘Why are you acting this way?’
She wrenched her hand away. Too much contact. Too much strength and heat.
He followed when she pushed out her chair and moved to the front of the desk.
‘What’s going on, Serena?’ His voice was low, close to dangerous. ‘Is there something I should know? From the beginning I said no misunderstandings. Whatever’s on your mind, spit it out.’
She clasped her trembling hands together. No more avoiding the issue.
Looking up from her shoes, she met his eyes. ‘I really enjoyed our time together in the pool house…’
He spat out a laugh. ‘What are you talking about, “enjoyed our time”?’ He reached to pull her close. His palm ironed up her arm as his breath warmed her hair. ‘You were out of your skin.’
Oh, God, don’t do this. She tried breaking free, but he held her firm. He was stronger, in so many ways. She needed a different tack. ‘Yes, it was good. Great, in fact. But—’
The pad of his thumb pressed against her lips. ‘Try incredible.’
When her stomach contracted around a pulse, she weaved around and escaped his hold.
She pulled down a breath. ‘I’ve given it a lot of thought. And this…’ she struggled for words ‘…this relationship we’ve developed away from the office…I don’t know that it will work.’
A shadow moved behind his eyes. ‘You don’t think so, huh?’
‘We should be focusing on this campaign.’
He blinked, then smiled. ‘So, you’re still committed to that?’
What a question. ‘Of course. I said I’d give you my all. I’ve never meant anything more.’
Her gaze slid to his mouth, how he chewed his lip, as if remembering how she tasted. He crossed his arms. ‘And you think sleeping with the boss will interfere with your performance?’
The room shrank as he edged closer.
Needing more space, she stepped back until she hit the desk. ‘I’m afraid it will, yes.’
Not only her performance here but also her bigger-picture plans. Sleeping with David threatened the carrot she’d dangled all those years to make it through the marketing assignments, the part-time waitress jobs, her doubts that she would evolve from ‘podgy’ and ‘not so bright’ to who she knew she could be if she sacrificed and tried hard enough.
Now she had to sacrifice again. This longing. His heat. Her heart. She could do it. She must.
‘We have this campaign to finish,’ she said. ‘To let our feelings get in the way…’ She shook her head. ‘It won’t work.’
When he stepped closer, she wanted to run. ‘You’ve made up your mind?’
Desire curled in her stomach. ‘I have.’
‘Then I’ll have to change it.’
Arms made of iron swept her up off her feet. A belt of adrenaline left her dizzy. Surrender, hovering over her, threatened to fall. ‘What are you doing?’
Striding from the room, he kicked the door open the rest of the way. ‘I’m taking you home.’
She bobbed against his chest as he marched her down the corridor. She didn’t want to lean in against him. That would give the wrong impression. She didn’t want that. Didn’t want this. Didn’t want him?
For one blessed moment she let herself enjoy the uncompromising strength surrounding her before offering her remaining excuse. ‘I have an appointment in an hour.’
His grin stripped the clothes from her body. ‘In an hour you’ll be in my bed.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
SO IT began. Her affair with the boss.
Serena tapped her foot.
Or, so he’d like to think.
In the passenger side of David’s Mercedes, which manoeuvred through the mid-town traffic, she crossed her arms and tried again.
‘Just so you know, I’m still not hap
py about this.’
David slanted a glance and his lip curled into a grin. ‘You will be.’
Her toe kept tapping. ‘I have meetings this afternoon. Don’t you?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Then why can’t we discuss this later?’ She’d give an inch. ‘Tonight if you want.’
That would give her more time to think. Being swept away like a damsel by her knight was pretty hard to resist. When he’d carried her through the building, not caring who saw, she’d insisted he put her down at the lift. He hadn’t listened. He still wasn’t.
‘Hel-lo?’ He didn’t answer her. ‘David? What do you think?’
‘Hmm?’ He indicated left and swung the wheel. ‘Think about what?’
‘About discussing this later.’
His smile bespoke indulgence. ‘Serena, there’s nothing to discuss.’
‘Don’t I get any say in this?’
His eyes left the road, caressed her throat, then met her gaze. He turned back to the road. ‘No.’
Did he think he was a law unto himself? She tugged on her seat belt. ‘This is kidnapping.’
‘If you want to report me, I’ll drop you off.’ As the sign of the local police station approached he slowed the car. The truck behind blared its horn. David ignored the warning and finished braking. At a dead stop, he leant over to push her door open. His arm rode over her breasts. The burst of tingles flared right down to her toes.
She battled the rush of arousal, then glared at him. ‘You did that on purpose.’
He ducked his head to gain a better view of the police sign. ‘There’s your stop.’ His arm lowered, then dragged over the tops of her legs. He sat up straight while she shivered and fought flash fires. ‘Last call.’
The truck blared again. Jumping, she glanced around at the mounting traffic, then flipped her hand at the steering wheel. ‘For God’s sake, you’ll cause an accident.’
‘I won’t have it said that I forced a lady against her will.’
Three air-horn blasts shook the car. Serena swivelled around. A ten-ton trucky waved his fist from his semi’s cabin. She guessed what he was yelling.
