The End of Faking It

by Natalie Anderson

  ‘How about honest, then, can you manage that?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Not if it’s going to really hurt someone,’ she muttered. Utterly honest.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s the coward’s way out.’

  Well, what would he know about anything? For all his cruel-to-be-kind cliché, she’d bet her last cent he’d never hurt anyone the way she once had.

  She blinked back her sudden tears, focused on his eyes instead. Close up now she saw even more colours in them—not just green and blue but shots of gold as well. All of a sudden she was trying really, really hard not to think of that kiss and how incredible she’d felt. Trying really, really hard not to notice how his mouth looked fuller today.

  The atmosphere changed completely. It seemed he’d forgotten his anger too. But there was no less emotion in the air—it just transformed and intensified as it swirled around them. Somehow it made her feel even worse than when he’d been so rude on the phone. Somehow she was more afraid. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

  ‘Do you want me to kiss you again, Penny?’ he asked. ‘Is that the real problem here?’

  That brought her voice back. ‘You are so conceited.’

  ‘So you really can’t do honesty,’ he jibed.

  She bent her head and fished for the last few files, needing to find her moxie more than the damn data. He so easily tipped her balance, she needed her defensive sass back. But all she could manage now was the silent treatment.

  ‘So what should that guy have sent you—a big box of Belgian chocolates?’ His tone lightened.

  ‘I don’t eat chocolate,’ she said shortly, not looking up.

  ‘Maybe you should, smooth off some of those sharp edges. Isn’t chocolate better than sex?’

  ‘You’re obviously not doing it right if the women you know say that.’

  He yelped a little laugh. ‘Throw out a challenge, why don’t you?’

  She slammed the file drawer shut.

  ‘And now you’re backing away from it again. See, you are a tease. You just like having men want you.’

  She faced him full on, to put him firmly in his place. Oh, so arrogant Carter Dodds could definitely cope with that—he wasn’t exactly crushable. ‘You wanting me is not a compliment.’

  ‘You don’t think?’ He grinned. ‘Well, I’m not going to chase after you with a billion flowers or calls. If you want to follow through on this, just let me know.’

  ‘And you’ll come running?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t run after any woman.’

  ‘Because they all fall at your feet?’

  ‘Much like the men do at yours, darling,’ he murmured. ‘But I already know how much you want me so maybe I’ll make you beg for it.’

  ‘Cold day in hell, Carter.’

  ‘Don’t protest too much, you’ll only regret it later.’

  She held a breath for a sanity-saving moment. ‘You always get everything you want?’

  ‘I already have everything I want. Anything extra is purely for fun.’ His lips curved so slowly and his eyes twinkled with such a teasing expression she fought hard not to let her lips move in response. They wanted to smile all of their own accord. To mirror the magic in his smile. How could she want to smile when she was mad with him?

  Because the fact was, he was honest—and, yes, more honest than her. He might be teasing but he wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t a bit true.

  ‘Admit it, you love the fun of it.’ Both his eyes and voice invited.

  ‘The fun of what?’

  ‘Flirting.’

  ‘Is that what you’re doing?’

  ‘That’s what we’ve been doing from the moment we saw each other.’

  ‘Oh, please.’ This wasn’t flirting, this was a full-scale, high-impact, brazen sexual hunt. There was nothing subtle about it.

  ‘You can’t deny it,’ he said. ‘You like what you see. I like what I see.’

  She dropped her gaze. Yes, that was all it was. A superficial animal attraction—based on instinct and what the eye found beautiful. They were each a pleasing example of the opposite sex with whom to practise procreation.

  ‘That doesn’t mean we should do anything about it. You need to concentrate, you’ve got a job to do here.’ And she needed him to give her some breathing space.

  ‘And I’ll do it well. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a few moments of light relief here and there.’

  Light relief was all she ever did. But she didn’t think Carter would walk as lightly over her as she would him. ‘You don’t think this is a distraction?’

  ‘I think it’s more of a distraction not to give in to it.’

  ‘Oh, right, so really I should be saying yes for Mason’s sake.’

  He chuckled. ‘You should be saying yes because you can’t keep saying no—not to this.’

  He had the sledgehammer thing down pat.

  She’d known many cocky guys. Had heard many lines—hell, she’d even delivered a few herself. But while Carter was confident, she could also tell he meant every word—and not in some deluded way. He really wanted her. And the truth was, she wanted him too—but to a degree too scary. This kind of extreme just couldn’t be healthy.

  He leaned a little closer and, despite her caution, Penny couldn’t help mirroring his movement. She had to part her lips just that tiny fraction—to breathe, right?

  He smiled wickedly and lifted his head away again, his eyes dancing with the delight of a devil. He picked up the files she’d thumped on the top of the cabinet. ‘I’ll see you at the bar later.’

  ‘You’re going tonight?’ She whirled away to hide the sudden rush of blood to her face. Oh, yeah, all her blood rushed at the thought of him being there.

  ‘Good opportunity to meet and mingle with the staff socially.’

  She could hear his smile as he answered. But she frowned, forgetting her feelings about spending social time with him and thinking of Mason instead. ‘I can’t believe any of them could be stealing.’

  ‘Greed. You never know who has what addiction, what need that’ll push them past moral boundaries.’

  ‘But it’s not William.’ It was the analyst’s last day; he was heading overseas to take on the financial markets in Singapore. ‘It couldn’t be him.’

  ‘I’m checking everyone,’ Carter answered, suddenly cool. ‘As he’s leaving, I’m checking his deals first.’

  Penny went straight to the bathroom and spent several minutes touching up her face—pressing powder over her forehead, cheeks and chin with deliberate, dispassionate dabs. She concentrated on her lipstick, not letting her mind think of her mouth as anything other than a colouring-in challenge—certainly not a hungry bundle of nerve endings yearning to feel the pressure of Carter’s mouth on hers again.

  But then she stared at her surface-repaired reflection. Was he right? Had she been stringing Aaron along? She hated the way Carter had spoken to him but had she been any better? She could have made it clearer—interrupted him and spoken firmly. Only she had that memory, when she’d inflicted so much pain. It was why she was always so careful to establish the ground rules before she entered any kind of affair now. It was why her affairs were so few and far between and super-brief. She had to be careful because she couldn’t handle anything more than easy. Anything more than carefree. No pain, just frivolity and superficial pleasure. She enjoyed sex. She didn’t have it anywhere near often enough despite her many nights out dancing, preferring to keep safe in all kinds of ways. But this attraction to Carter was the most extreme thing she’d ever experienced.

  He’d offered all she wanted—only the physical—no strings, no messiness. There was certainly no fledgling friendship there, not when he obviously thought she was a manipulative tease. She saw how he looked at her, as if she made him as angry as much as she turned him on. Well, she knew exactly how he felt.

  But her reaction to him was too strong to be safe. When emotions were out of control, people got hurt. She wa
sn’t hurting anyone or being hurt ever again. That was her one hard-and-fast rule. And this attraction threatened every ounce of control she had—therefore was too dangerous to engage.

  But he was absolute temptation.

  She shook her head, overruling her warring instincts. He wasn’t that overwhelming. Her attraction to him was simply a case of it having been too long. Of course she swooned for tall, dark and handsome, any other red-blooded female would too. Except Carter didn’t just have those three attributes, he also had a carefree lack of cut to his hair, wicked brilliance in his eyes and the devil in his smile….

  Ugh. She turned her back on the mirror and walked out. He was just incredibly over-confident. He probably wouldn’t even deliver on the promise he exuded. Because in truth, for Penny, no man delivered.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘CHAMPAGNE please.’ Nine hours of work and thirty lengths of the pool later, Penny had changed into her clubbing gear, heel-tapped her way into the bar and been served ahead of eight people already queued there.

  ‘So you’re friends with the bartenders.’

  ‘And the DJs.’ She took her glass and turned to face Carter. ‘And the bouncers,’ she added with just that little bit of emphasis.

  His grin flashed. ‘Really? I thought you didn’t like bullies tossing people out of your life.’

  He was dressed in the dark casual again. The edginess suited him better.

  She sipped the champagne and pretended she had all the chutzpah she’d ever need. ‘There’s always the exception, Carter.’

  ‘Oh, that there is.’ His brows lifted as he looked over every inch of her second-favourite-ever skirt and then her shirt. ‘So this is your hunting ground.’ He glanced dispassionately at the dance floor. ‘Little loud, isn’t it?’ He grinned evilly. ‘How can you get to know someone properly when you can’t hear them talk?’

  She sidled another inch along the bar and whispered in his ear. ‘By getting close.’ She quickly pulled back when she felt him move.

  His hand did lift, but all he did was deposit his glass on the bench behind her. Empty already meant he’d been there awhile and he hadn’t had trouble catching the attention of the bar staff either.

  Penny searched and spotted her workmates over near their usual corner, some already on the dance floor. Safety in numbers. ‘Coming to join the others?’

  ‘If I must.’

  She deliberately misunderstood his reluctance. ‘You don’t like to dance?’ He shrugged.

  ‘You’ve got no rhythm?’ she asked totally overly sweetly.

  He took her glass from her and sipped carefully. ‘I can hold my own.’

  ‘Really.’ She didn’t try to hide the dare in her tone.

  He turned to face her. There were probably over a hundred and fifty people present, but suddenly there was only him. ‘I’m happy to watch for a while first. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be watched? That’s why you dress like this.’ His fingers brushed the hem of her skirt and slipped onto her bare skin.

  She took her glass back off him. ‘I dress like this because I don’t like to get too hot. And so I can move easily.’

  ‘Yeah, real easy.’ All innuendo.

  Swallowing some sweet fizzing bubbles, she smiled. ‘Not jumping to all the wrong conclusions again, are you?’

  ‘No, I’m examining the details and evaluating in a reasoned manner.’ His finger traced slowly back and forth over a two-inch stretch of her thigh and, despite the heat of the late summer night and the press of too many people, goose bumps rose.

  ‘Like you did last night?’

  ‘I admit my naturally suspicious instinct overruled my usual close observation. At first.’

  ‘So you admit you were wrong?’

  ‘I already have. And I already apologised. Last night. Stop trying to milk it—we can move on, you know.’ He took her glass from her again. ‘Or are you too scared to?’

  She bit the inside of her lip as he smiled and sipped more of her champagne, intently watching her reaction. He wasn’t kidding about the close observation.

  ‘You know we want the same thing.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not,’ she hedged.

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘All I want right now is to dance.’ With him. But she had to hold some secrets close.

  His grin flared. ‘Precisely my point.’

  She turned her back on him, positively strutted to where half the others from the office were already getting their groove on. That was one of the things she liked about the company—the really healthy party scene that went with it. They worked hard and played every bit as hard and, despite those thirty lengths already, she still had too much energy to burn. William and some of the other guys joined in and the floor got crowded. Her blood zinged. Yeah, this was what she needed; easy-going freedom and fun.

  The music was loud—which she liked—the beat both fast and steady. But it wasn’t long before she turned her head. Because it wasn’t one-way traffic—she wanted to watch him too. She met his stare full on across the floor. For that split second she saw how easily he read her—piercing right into her head to find out exactly what she wanted.

  He walked straight towards her.

  And, yes, that was exactly what she wanted.

  Carter and William were a similar height but Carter drew all attention away from the other man. His aura and his physique commanded it. Broader in the shoulders, bigger, stronger—yes, she was totally going cave-girl, her body instinctively turning towards the male who seemed likely to offer the best protection.

  His smile wasn’t exactly safe, though. And other instincts were warring with her basic sexual ones—shrieking that getting closer to Carter would be no protection at all. But that look in his eyes mesmerised her again. She couldn’t move—like prey frozen in the path of the predator. Not safe at all. But then, at this moment, she didn’t want to be.

  His hand slid round her back and he pulled her against him, his head descending so quickly she didn’t even have a chance to blink. But there was no kiss for her hungry mouth; he was too clever for that. It was the slightest brush on her jaw, so quick and light she wondered if it had just been her desperate imagination. Her breath escaped in a rough sigh of disappointment and then she inhaled—all excitement again as he pulled her that bit tighter to him. Now she was wholly in his arms, her chest pressed to his, his hand wide and strong splaying across her spine, his other lifting to stroke down her plait, tugging at the end of it to tilt her face back up to his.

  But she avoided his all-seeing eyes. Turned to look over his shoulder instead. Her workmates’ eyes were bugging out. She was definitely breaking a few conventions tonight; she didn’t ever dance this close to anyone in the office. But then Carter wasn’t officially on the payroll. And in less than a second she didn’t care what they were thinking anyway because the impact of his proximity hit her and she could no longer think. She couldn’t do anything but move with him.

  He said nothing, didn’t need to, merely moved his hands to guide her where he wanted—natural dancer, natural leader, natural lover. All easy rhythm. And she turned to plasticine just like that.

  Chest to breast, hands to shoulder and waist, thigh brushing thigh—but eyes not meeting. The need to deny the madness built in her chest. But he was totally taking advantage of the flickering lights and the crowd of people to crush her closer still. His sledgehammer style—steam-rolling over her caution just by being himself.

  The feelings intensified. She wasn’t comfortably warm any more but unbearably hot. She couldn’t breathe either—he always made her so damn breathless, made her heart beat too fast, made her brain go vacant.

  She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder for a moment, wanted to escape the crowds and the claustrophobic feeling choking her. She wanted to move slowly with him. Even more she wanted time to stop—to leave her pressed mindlessly against him with no pressure of the past to bear on her.

  But that was impossible. And this discomfort
was so wrong. Dancing was where she felt the best, the most free. She liked it fast and loud, but now it was only his heartbeat she could hear—strong and regular and relentless—and it scared her. Her own heart thundered, scaring her.

  Why was she stumbling, why were her eyes watering, blinded by the flashing lights?

  She had to escape. Pushing away from him, she took a deep breath to try to stop from drowning in the sensations. She listened for the beat again. She needed to be alone and unrestricted—alone in the crowd.

  She turned, saw William only a couple of feet away. She moved towards him, welcoming the break from Carter. Breathing deeper, more calmly. Yes, she needed recovery time to get her grip back.

  William was a handsome guy, easily the best-looking man in the office until Carter had arrived, but there was none of that crazy swimming feeling in her head that she had when dancing with Carter. She had no trouble breathing, or thinking or staying in control of her own body. This made so much more sense.

  Manageable.

  She breathed deep again and smiled at him. William smiled back. This was better.

  Carter stood on the dance floor and watched her spin in some other guy’s arms. William. The guy whose work he’d just spent the afternoon cross-checking—and it was all clear. That didn’t stop the surge of hatred from rising. Despicable, unwanted, violent.

  His fists curled. There was no hope of recovering his calm, not now he’d felt the way she moved against him—all fluid grace and perfect rhythm and soft freedom. All he could think of was her supple body sliding against his as she danced with him intimately. Every muscle ached for the intense release they’d share.

  But there she was going from him to another in a heartbeat. Any other woman and he’d roll his eyes and walk away. He made it a rule never to care enough to be bothered by a woman’s games. But he had to get out of there before he punched that William guy in the face. And it wasn’t even his fault. Penny was the player, not him.

  Carter wasn’t into violence and the wave of aggression he felt made him even more angry—with himself. He’d punish his own body instead, take it out on the rowing machine or the treadmill or the punchbag that were in the gym down the stairs from his serviced apartment. He’d go there and sweat it out right now.