Kitabı oku: «In Bed With Her Tall, Sexy Handsome Boss: All Night with the Boss / The Boss's Wife for a Week / My Tall Dark Greek Boss», sayfa 4

It wasn’t as if she was totally off men. Hell, she even had Gina trying to matchmake her with her mate. He ran up the first flight of stairs swiftly, deep in thought.

All this rubbish about office gossip was a smokescreen. She was a temp, for goodness’ sake; she’d be heading home to New Zealand in no time. Why care what a bunch of people here thought when soon she’d be out of the place?

They could have a lot of fun together before she did take off. She should be taking in all the experiences London had to offer. He was determined to be one of those experiences.

So if not fear of gossip, then fear of what? He could do scared; hell he was a little scared himself. He’d never felt a pull like this. He could give her time if that was what she needed. Some time anyway. OK, maybe not much more time.

He mulled over that first night they’d met. She’d been so funny. So damn sexy. Her hair loose, her tongue loose. He smirked—very loose. He couldn’t believe she was the same woman so buttoned up in the office the next day. Hair swept back, a frosty manner. That wasn’t really her. No, the hints of the tantalising, enthusiastic siren underneath were all too clear. Her cynical amusement at the competitive interplay between James and Marnie, the enthusiastic way she ate her dessert, her passion for the city, the lust in her eyes when they touched. She wore stockings and suspenders, for heaven’s sake. The woman was a sensualist hiding behind ice.

Bounding up the fourth flight of stairs, he decided he must remember to keep raspberries and cream in the fridge. Watching her eat that dessert with her fingers had given him the biggest hard-on he’d had in years. He’d had to take ages over his own cake to give himself time to regain control before they stood up at the table. Control. Was that what she was afraid of losing? What he could do to her to make her lose control. He ached to do it, every wild fantasy spinning in his head.

She needed a shake-up. He wanted to strip away that frost, strip away that fear and then strip her, literally. He laughed at his crassness.

Running up the next flight, he looked up and his heart seized in his chest. Suddenly he was as breathless as if he’d been running a marathon. There she was, standing at the landing at the top, staring at him, her hand clenched on the banister. He stopped and eyeballed her. Perfect. Time for a little conversation. Without breaking eye contact he slowly climbed the remaining five steps to stand on the step just below her. It almost brought them to eye level. Her mouth only an inch or two below his. Perfect positioning.

He breathed deeply a couple of times and studied her. She was breathing as hard as him and she’d only come down six stairs. It pleased him. He got to her, just as she did him. She sucked her beautiful pouty lips into her mouth again, pressing on them as if she was holding back the words. He wanted to free them with his finger, to feel the soft fullness. He wanted her to say whatever it was on her mind.

He decided to cut right to the chase. Her hand still gripped the banister. He covered it with one of his own. It trembled.

‘I think it’s time we faced up to this, don’t you?’

Her eyes darkened.

So did his mood. ‘Tell me why not.’

‘You’re my boss.’

Bingo. An honest reason and one he felt compelled to overcome. ‘That’s just a situation.’

‘It’s unethical.’

‘No, it’s not. It happens all the time.’

‘That doesn’t make it right. There’s an imbalance of…power.’

‘I wouldn’t abuse that and, even if I tried, you wouldn’t let me.’

A shadow crossed her face. His heart pounded. They could get over this. They had to.

The direction of her gaze transfixed him. Slowly it lifted from his mouth to his eyes and he could see the golden flickers of light burning in the depths of the warm brown.

He was desperate to touch her. Desperate to wrap his arms around her, kiss her. He forced himself to go slowly. Move gently. He couldn’t afford to scare her off him any more than she was already. He cursed the circumstances in which they’d met. It wasn’t great for him either.

‘OK,’ he said softly. He climbed the final step, taking her hand off the banister with his and walking towards her. She stepped backwards. He kept walking. Forcing her across the little landing until her back was against the wall. He took another step nearer so only a fraction of air hung between them. He kept hold of her hand, his thumb stroking her wrist. He could feel her pulse hammering. He stared down at her, searching her eyes. The spark of defiance was there, but so was the heat and suddenly it was all heat. Satisfaction settled into him.

‘We’re both adults. We’re on equal footing,’ he said in a low voice.

She opened her mouth to argue and he stopped her the best way he knew. She melted into him immediately, her yielding sigh spilling in his embrace. His already hard body tightened further in response. Her mouth was so soft, so sweet as it opened for him. He fought for the strength to be gentle, not to ravish as his inner caveman wanted him to. But he couldn’t stop the escalation. Couldn’t control his desire to touch her everywhere, especially there. He’d been dreaming about it for nights, remembering the sensation as his fingers had skimmed from soft silk to even softer skin.

He reached down, sliding his hands under her skirt and slowly up her thighs. He had to know. Yes, there it was. His fingers reached the top of her stockings and flowed onto bare skin. The jolt of desire toppled his self-control and he groaned against her. She rotated her hips against him and he knew she wanted more. The floodgates had been opened and she was kissing him as hard and as hungrily as he kissed her. Her fingers pulled in his hair, holding him to her. He loved it. He ground his hips into hers and his senses sky-rocketed when she rocked viciously back against him.

His fingers traced up alongside the suspender strap. She parted her legs to give him greater access. He slid sideways until he reached the lacy edge of her panties.

He was certain she felt it as badly as he did. Wanted it as badly. He wanted to talk to her, to say it, to hear her say it, but he couldn’t bear to tear his lips from her silky skin and that reddened mouth. He teased her, running his fingers along the elastic of her underwear, and felt her try to spread her legs further against the tightness of her skirt.

He let her pull back from his kiss to gasp for air, pressing his mouth along the length of her throat as her head fell back to rest against the wall. Still his fingers teased even though her gasps and wriggling hips told him of her growing impatience. He smiled against the skin exposed at the top of her shirt, breathing in her flowery freshness. And then he felt her hands on the back of his thighs, felt the heat from them through his trousers as they swooped upwards, felt the pressure as they squeezed his butt, and he knew he was in trouble. Inner caveman began to assert dominance. Enough teasing. He cupped her mound with the flat of his palm, while stroking his fingers lower, deeper between her legs; he felt the dampness through the silk and lace and almost shook with need. He very nearly ripped the fabric away so he could taste her there with his mouth.

Then he heard it. The slamming of the stairwell door above. He pulled away from her, staring into her eyes. She stared back at him in confusion, the dazed look almost killing him. He wanted to keep going so bad. But not now, not here. He jerked his head in the direction that footsteps were approaching. He saw her eyes widen in shock as she registered their downward descent.

‘Damn,’ he muttered, wanting to swear far harder and louder. She pulled at her skirt in panic and deftly he took her by the arm and led her down. They seemed to fly. Excitement drove him. She couldn’t deny it now. She was as hot for him as he was for her. Lovers. He could hardly wait.

He swiped his pass and opened the door to the basement, pulling her inside, desperate to get that close to her again. Not wanting the brief moments apart to have given her a chance to build walls again.

Too late. She’d already skated out of his grasp and was facing him square with the icy barriers back in place.

‘I thought you said you weren’t going to touch me again unless I asked you to.’ She’d whispered, but it echoed anyway in the dimly lit concrete car park. Touch me, touch me. It was all he heard, all he wanted to hear.

‘You asked.’ It came out low and rough. He knew he was in dangerous waters with this whole boss/temp thing. Knew her discomfort about it was partly justified. Damn, but he’d been told she was right for the project and he’d wanted the chance to get to know her. And for that he needed time. Contact time. The sooner the job wrapped, the better; he’d make sure they weren’t assigned to the same one again.

She glared at him, her eyebrows raised, but the fire in her eyes wasn’t all anger.

‘You asked.’ He repeated with more confidence than he felt. He wished he could just pull her into his arms again and show her, but the moment had passed.

She made to refute but he held his hands up to silence her. Then he pointed to her face. ‘You asked with your eyes.’

Her gaze dropped instantly, her pale eyelids hiding the gold-flecked brown orbs that told him so much. He saw her struggling, saw how much this thing between them affected her. Well, she wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop. He shoved the inner caveman back behind his rock and aimed to lighten the moment.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said with a laugh that sounded as forced as it was. ‘Next time I’ll wait to hear the request.’

She looked up then and he almost gasped at the torture in her expression. She looked so torn. He wished she’d talk to him. Wanted her to open her heart and mind to him as much as he wanted her to open her body. He wanted the whole damn lot from her. Everything.

Hell, that was a first.

For a moment it looked as if she was going to say something, but then she bit on her lips, the action almost driving him to break his word. He said nothing as she walked past him and re-entered the stairwell. He stood, trying to catch breath, trying to the control the Eiffel Tower in his pants enough to be able to walk up the damn stairs again, let alone return to his desk and concentrate to some degree on work.

God help him if she never did ask.

Chapter Four

OUT of the corner of her eye Lissa watched Rory. He looked deep in thought, frowning at his laptop. She had avoided him as far as possible since the incident in the stairwell. She’d spent the weekend sightseeing in Bath with a girlfriend and had almost succeeded in forgetting about Rory for a three-hour period. The rest of the time he’d been foremost in her thoughts.

Back at the office on Monday the work had cranked up. Now the presentation to the client was only two days away and they were working round the clock. She’d been able to slip home ahead of him. Marnie and James were constant fixtures at their desks so they were never alone. Besides, she had the distinct impression he was waiting for her to make the next move. Fine. All she had to do was ensure she didn’t make it even if that was the toughest thing she’d ever had to do. Far tougher than walking out on her life nearly two years ago.

She’d told him the reason she couldn’t be with him. But she hadn’t realised the extent of her own vulnerability to him. Within two seconds of his touch she’d been his. Uncaring about how little she knew about him, uncaring of the fact that they had been in a public area and could have been caught at any moment. Almost had been, in fact. If he hadn’t acted they would have been. He’d been far more grounded than her and that terrified her.

He’d said she’d asked him to touch her and she knew he was right. In her mind she’d been begging and he’d read it. What a mistake. They’d discovered her weakness together. That he just had to touch her and all her resistance melted. She was not going to risk ruining her career a second time. She wanted to end this contract on a high, not a messy low. But even more scary was the depth of her reaction to him. It didn’t seem normal. This wasn’t your average case of the hots. She knew that if she gave into it she would be on the road for major heartache. A distraction for him seemed to be something more for her and she was too afraid to analyse exactly what.

So she reverted to ice-princess mode again, unable to meet his eyes for fear of what she might see there or, worse, what she might give away. Marnie and James were too busy to notice. And, perhaps, so was Rory.

Suppressing a sigh, she went to find Gina for five minutes’ light relief. She stole a look as she passed him on the way out and caught him staring at her with an expression of such want that she felt herself blush all over. Her eyes darted back to the door ahead. Not too busy.

Gina, happy to hang for a moment, gave her a concerned look. ‘Hey, come on, they’re having drinks down the pub tonight. One of the other projects has wrapped. Come and have a few and relax.’

Lissa opened her mouth to refuse and suddenly thought better of it. ‘Good idea.’ These last few days she’d been working so hard she had been feeling almost reclusive. She was supposed to be making the most of her last few weeks—she should be out and about every night instead of lying awake for hours at a stretch dreaming about a guy she shouldn’t and couldn’t have.

A night out with Gina and the gang would be a great way of relaxing. Rory and the others should be working late again, so no fear of having to see even more of him.

‘Good, you’re looking too pale and miserable. You need a good night out.’

Lissa attempted a grin back, forcing levity into her voice. ‘You know, you’re absolutely right.’

A few drinks, get the whole Rory thing into perspective.

Rory knew the minute the door opened that she was back. He could tell her soft step on the carpet, could smell the freshness that was uniquely her. Clenching his jaw, he welded himself to the spot, refusing to turn around and take in the view as he really wanted.

He looked across at James, who was openly appraising Lissa. Irritation flared again. He didn’t like the way James looked at Lissa, uncomfortably aware that it was exactly how he looked at her himself—with lust. But James, he knew, was only about lust, whereas increasingly he wanted to understand the whole package. Something about her got to him, and made him want her more than he’d wanted any woman.

Next thing he knew she was approaching him waving a piece of paper.

‘Rory, I need you to sign my timesheet for last week. I need to fax it in to the agency this afternoon to be sure I get paid. I forgot to get you to do it on Friday and I’ve only just remembered.’

Well, he knew exactly why that was. Friday. The stairs. He looked up into her face. She was staring at the paper she’d laid on the desk next to him. Not giving anything away. She hadn’t since those stolen moments in the stairwell, moments that he’d been replaying twenty-four seven ever since. He cursed the interruption, desperately dreaming up ways in which he could try it again. The desire to touch her so overwhelmed him, it threatened his work and he hated that. A large part of him hated the effect she had on him.

No way was he seriously drawn to her, was he? Not someone who, frankly, could be more than a little stroppy. Well, yes. Besides, he had a feeling the stroppiness was related to the battle to keep him at a distance. Once they were over that, he was more than aware of the ways she would be able to make up for it. She was fun. He saw the amusement, the humour, all too often in her expression. Why couldn’t they have a couple of months’ excitement?

Realising he’d been staring at her for far too long and that as a result her face now glowed rosily, he jerked his attention from her to the page before him. He gave it a perfunctory scan before adding his signature to the bottom line. Then something caught his eye.

‘Your full name is Lisette?’ He didn’t exactly know hundreds, but he’d never come across a New Zealander with a French-sounding name before.

‘My father was French Canadian.’

He digested that for a moment. ‘Was?’

She nodded and he saw the brightness in her face dim.

‘Did you learn French?’

‘No. Actually he died before I was born.’ The shadows in her eyes grew darker. The golden flecks faded in brilliance.

‘That must have been hard on your mother.’

‘It was. But she was a survivor.’

‘Was?’ His heart thumped a little harder. He didn’t mean to pry, but he knew he was getting information that was vital. Clues that might help him understand the faint sense of mystery about her. Some fact that might help him figure out why she was so reluctant to follow what he knew she wanted. What his heart and body wanted so much.

‘Was.’ She snatched the paper up and walked away from him. He quietly watched her as she sat back down in her chair, avoiding looking anywhere in particular, especially at him.

An orphan. Fatherless from birth and motherless since—when? The questions nearly burst forth, but her shuttered expression told him he’d got as far as he was going to—for today anyway.

He went back to the figures on the screen in front of him and for the first time in his career wished his work away. Wanted the project to be over so he could have the time to focus on her. Disgusted, he jabbed at the keyboard. What on earth had come over him? He’d said quite clearly he didn’t want distractions. But meeting Lissa was more than a distraction. It felt like a life-changing event, one beyond his control and one he wasn’t sure he could handle.

Lissa escaped earlier than she’d thought she’d be able to, leaving the others up to their elbows in charts. She raced along the footpath to Jackson’s, the bar where Gina and the others were already on their second round. Gina waved her over excitedly and Lissa was soon ensconced with fresh pineapple juice in hand, slightly distanced persona in place talking with some of the junior consultants.

Suddenly she felt an elbow in her ribs. ‘Come and meet Karl.’ Gina had such an expectant look on her face as she dragged Lissa near the door that Lissa had to stifle a giggle. She recognised him from the party at the office where she had mistaken him for Rory. She cringed afresh at her blunder. While Karl had a great physique and a fabulously cheeky grin, he was no Rory. They were poles apart in terms of dynamism and sheer animal magnetism.

Karl took her hand and gave her the benefit of the cheeky charmer grin. ‘Great to meet you at last. I’ve heard so much about you.’

‘As I have you.’ Lissa smiled at him. She was surprised as she caught the vestige of a wink. Not a suggestive wink, but more one aimed at a co-conspirator. That was funny. Unless she was reading things wrong this guy wasn’t interested in meeting someone new in the least. She sipped from her glass, appreciating her decision to go with the refreshing juice, watching the interplay between him and Gina.

Gina was her usual bubbly self, but Lissa noticed the serious glint in Karl’s eye as he watched her. It took about fifteen seconds of observing this for her to make the connection. Gina disappeared, called away by another friend, and Lissa lost no time in calling him to account.

‘You’ve fallen for Gina, haven’t you?’ She looked at him full on.

He stared back, his eyes widening a fraction before looking away to where Gina stood chatting safely out of earshot. ‘Guilty as charged.’

She saw the flicker of insecurity flash before he hid it behind a self-deprecating smile.

‘Waste of time, though, when she’s only interested in types like him.’

She glanced around to where he was looking and drew a painful breath. Rory had arrived and was standing next to Gina and staring at them with a thunderous expression. She felt floored by the ferocity of his gaze. She turned back quickly, looking down at her drink, feeling the heat in her cheeks. What was he doing here? She’d thought she was in the clear for just a few hours. Her Rory-Proximity Indicator, aka her pulse, started its crazy zigzag. She found her attraction to him so hard to control and she knew it would only take a moment alone with him for it to snap. She had to prevent that from happening.

‘Hmm.’ Karl grunted.

Lissa could just about hear the cogs creaking as they turned in his brain.

‘Who is he?’ he asked.

‘Rory. One of the bosses.’ She said it to remind herself more than to inform him. ‘Look, great to meet you, Karl, but I need to head home.’

With a wave she left him and started to move towards Gina to say goodnight.

Rory stepped in front of her, blocking her slow trail across the room, his chest a more effective barrier than the Great Wall of China. ‘So Gina was right, then?’ He asked, his voice rasping harshly.

‘About what?’ she asked cautiously. She’d never seen him look so grim.

‘That he’d be the perfect good-time guy for you.’ He jerked his head in Karl’s direction. Anger oozed from every pore.

If she weren’t so strung out she’d have laughed. Instead she sighed. Their situation was fractious enough without having unwarranted jealousy compounding it.

‘Actually, no, she wasn’t right about that.’

The hardness in his eyes remained.

‘But she was right about one thing,’ she continued, the need to set him at ease overruling her plan to keep him at a distance.

‘What’s that?’

‘You do have the most amazing eyes.’ She looked at him and let her attraction shine out clearly. Time stopped and, fascinated, she watched as his expression softened from anger to amusement and then to desire. The unspoken communication held them in thrall. She felt heat mount in her cheeks and a thrilling tingle rippled through her as she saw an answering flush rise in his. The desire she had been trying so desperately to hold in check this last week was spiralling upwards—again.

She finally recognised that it was never going to go away of its own accord. The feelings she thought she could control were not lessening with each day. Instead the attraction mounted. With every day came new knowledge, more familiarity, more fun. And the need to be one with him grew. It felt inevitable. Uncontrollable.

She didn’t want him thinking she was even remotely interested in Karl. The idea was laughable. Right now she felt as if she’d never want anyone the way she wanted Rory. The thought scared her half to death.

Finally she spoke, a whisper. ‘I’m going home.’

‘Let me come with you.’ An equally quiet whisper.

A wry smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘No one’s coming tonight.’

A rueful look crossed his face. She knew he’d caught her double entendre. ‘More’s the pity.’ Regret swirled between them.

‘What’s happened? Don’t tell me the computers have crashed and we’ve lost the reports?’ James broke in on them, his hilarity jarring her back to her surroundings. He stood with a drink in each hand, brows raised, flicking his glance from one to the other in query. She glanced back at Rory. He’d retreated and was looking coldly at James who was still talking. ‘You need a drink, Lissa?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m just leaving. See you tomorrow.’ She walked away before either of them could say anything more.

She waved goodbye to Gina, who came to meet her at the door.

‘People are asking if you and Rory are having an affair,’ Gina said without preamble.

Lissa’s head jerked back.

‘Don’t get mad,’ Gina added hurriedly. ‘I’ve said not as far as I knew. I just thought you’d like to know.’

Lissa forced herself to shrug. It was hardly surprising. Even Karl had immediately spotted the attraction between them. Coupled with the few incidents in front of Marnie and James and the soul-searching looks they’d just swapped in the middle of the crowded bar, of course people were going to wonder. Despite what she’d said to Rory, she didn’t really care. People would think what they liked with little regard for the truth. She’d learnt that one a long time ago as the only child of a single teenage mother. Besides, it wouldn’t be the only office affair to be speculated on and nor would it be the last. There’d be another shortly, she bet, knowing the antics of some of the junior consultants.

‘Are you OK?’ Gina touched her arm, bringing her back to the here and now. ‘Look, Lissa, if you don’t want to tell me, fine. But I know there’s something going on. You guys put all the “izzle” in sizzle.’

Lissa smiled, aiming for nonchalance, unwilling to unload the sorry saga onto Gina. ‘I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all. I’m going to call it a night.’

Thursday passed in a flash. Despite another night of minimal sleep, she sped through the final version of the reports. By mid afternoon they’d been checked and she was printing and binding copies to be distributed at the presentation.

Then she set about perfecting the online slide show and ensuring that the equipment Rory and the others needed to take with them on Friday had been checked by IT and was ready to go. The others had been in conference at the other end of the table for most of the afternoon. Lissa glanced down at them, taking a breather from the figures in front of her. They all seemed hyped on an adrenaline rush. Rory’s energy levels were phenomenal. He paced the end of the room, eyes gleaming as he grilled Marnie over and over on her part of the presentation. He seemed to thrive on the excitement of the challenge. Looked so competent, so assured, so focussed.

Lissa grimaced and looked back at her computer. She felt anything but—her suit crumpled rather than crisp, her body hot and sticky. Her throat was sore and her head felt heavy and seemed to have the army band drumming in it. Even her eyeballs ached. She put her hands to her cheeks; they were burning up and her cold fingers soothed them a little.

She was tired. Tired of staring at computer screen and graphs and figures for hours, tired of being cooped up in this tiny room, but most of all she was tired of being so close to Rory and yet not being with him. She wanted him. Badly. The thought consumed her and so did the resulting anger. She was allowing her physical attraction to him to overshadow her work. Such a thing had never happened before. The thought of him fevered her mind. It clouded her judgment and, she worried, affected her performance. She resented his ability to be able to switch it off. How could he be so focussed on work if he felt the same overwhelming passion?

Suddenly it was well after six and the office had all but emptied leaving just their small team. Marnie and James went to get pizza, insisting on going out to get it rather than order delivery. Marnie said she was desperate for fresh air. James took the orders. Distractedly Lissa said she’d be happy with anything but seafood. Damn, she needed to get this finished so she could get away. Her nerves were shot to pieces. It was all she could do to sit there and keep some semblance of concentration on the screen.

She battled to finish the remaining few pages. Part of her wanted to get out of the room and head for home as fast as possible and the other part wanted nothing more than to leap onto Rory and ravish him. Her reservations about an office fling were fading fast under the weight of the desire she felt for him. They would only have a few weeks together. But then that was a whole problem in itself. As the days progressed and her attraction steadily grew she knew she had to be stronger than ever because she could end up heartbroken. Total no-win situation.

She wanted him so badly but she couldn’t have him.

A heavy silence filled the room. She sat fuming at the apparent ease with which he could continue working. He had such focus despite her proximity whereas she was practically having a meltdown. She couldn’t resist jibing at him.

‘People are saying we’re having an affair.’ Her tone was as bitter as burnt coffee grinds.

‘Really?’ Rory didn’t look up from his screen. ‘I’m surprised. They know I don’t usually fool around in the office.’

‘And why don’t you usually?’ Lissa demanded, anger sparking within her.

‘Work’s work and play’s play,’ he replied easily, his eyes still fixed on the computer before him.

‘And never the twain shall meet?’ she asked tartly. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to goad him. To prove he wasn’t as immune as he appeared.

‘It’s easier that way. Otherwise how do you concentrate on work?’ Suddenly he jerked his head up and glared at her. She shrank at the blaze in his eyes. He continued, his volume rising with every word. ‘How do you cope if the woman you’ve fallen for is sitting across from you, only inches away, and yet you can’t reach out and touch her the way you want to? How the hell do you get any work done?’ He swore viciously and pushed the keyboard away.

Satisfaction slammed into her. But still she continued prodding brazenly. ‘So you’d rather out of sight, out of mind?’

‘No,’ he replied with a mirthless laugh. ‘Never out of mind. But it makes it damn hard to concentrate on bloody numbers when you’re wearing a slightly see-through blouse and all I want to do is rip it off to see what’s underneath it properly.’

Heat consumed her. Heart thudding, she stood and reached for her suit jacket. Just as quickly he rose and came around the table. He reached out a hand and grasped her wrist. His grip was hard. Her jacket fell to the floor. They stood staring at each other. She was certain he could feel the frantic tempo of her pulse. She watched as he lowered his gaze to her lips, then down to her chest. With a deep breath she realised her breasts had tightened and swollen. He stared at them and they tightened still further. With her arm outstretched pulling the fabric of her shirt taut across her body, she knew there was no way he could fail to see their aroused outline. He looked back up at her face. His pupils were so large there was only the smallest ring of dazzling emerald around them.