by Joss Wood
She gripped the desk with her hands as she leaned back, her back arched provocatively, her hips tilted and her eyes lowered in passion.
Damn, she had no idea how sexy she was, Rob thought, looking up into those eyes that echoed the waters of the bay. He’d never quite understood the expression ‘drowning in her eyes’, and had thought that it was over-used by poets and posers until this very minute. They were deep and mysterious and held a million secrets...
She was such a contradiction, Rob thought, leaning forward and taking a moment to slow his heart down by resting his forehead on her fragrant stomach. Amazingly, shockingly bright, a little naïve, a lot innocent. Stronger than she realised and tougher than she gave herself credit for. In another life, if he was another guy, he’d be finding a way to make her his...
But he couldn’t give her anything more—be her anything more. Apart from the fact that his time here was limited, relationships of any depth or length required trust—and that wasn’t something he could do. Ever.
Still, this woman was the first in a very long time—okay, in for ever—who had made him even consider that possibility. And that was why he had to be doubly careful around her... They were sleeping together and now working together. The lines were getting blurred very fast indeed.
Slow it down, moron. Seriously. Because someone is going to get certain parts of his anatomy put through a grinder. His heart and his balls ran for cover at the thought...
All he had—all he could have—was right now, and he could suck the life out of every moment with this woman. And he intended to, he thought as he slowly stood up.
Instead of kissing her upturned mouth Rob dropped feather-light kisses on her collarbone, nibbled her neck, and sucked on that sweet spot between her neck and ear. Willa tipped her head to allow him better access and picked up his hand and placed it on her breast. To tease her he just held her in his palm, but she growled her disapproval and pushed her breast into his hand.
‘I need you to touch me.’
Rob laughed lightly. ‘Getting there,’ he replied.
This was his fantasy and he wouldn’t be rushed. So he teased and tormented; tasting the skin on the inside of her elbow, the top of her hip. He nuzzled the inside of her thighs, explored her knees, and tangled his tongue in the fine three-strand chain around her slim ankle. He feasted. And when he thought Willa couldn’t stand another minute more he started the process all over again.
When he finally pulled her thong to one side and found her sweet spot with his tongue she orgasmed instantly, and he slid two fingers into her and nuzzled her to another high. As pliant as a doll, she let him spin her around. He laid her across the desk and unzipped his cargo shorts. Taking the condom from his back pocket—he’d taken to carrying one around for situations just like these—he rolled it on and, spreading her legs, slid into her wet wild warmth and rotated his hips. So hot, so deep, so Willa.
Happy to delay his pleasure, he lay across her back, content to stay sheathed in her, running his hands up and down her sides before sliding them around to her front and stroking her nipples with his thumbs.
Willa, being Willa, slowly stirred, and he felt her push back against him, recognised the tension in her body that he’d come to know so well. She was up for another orgasm and he would give her one—slow and hot...
Except it didn’t happen the way he’d intended. She pushed back and he hit her G-spot—and suddenly she was demanding more, and he was pumping, and if he had to stop he would just die...
He heard Willa scream and felt her clench around him and another burst of pure energy pulsed through him.
Yeah, Rob thought as he locked his knees to keep himself from collapsing. It wasn’t love, or for ever, but it was still damned amazing.
He could live with that.
* * *
‘Need coffee,’ Willa muttered, her face in Rob’s shoulder.
This was fair, because something of his was still buried in her as well.
Rob patted her butt. ‘It’s your turn. I made it yesterday morning.’
‘You make better coffee.’
‘This is true, but it’s still your turn.’ Rob pulled his head away to look into her face. ‘Ack...don’t we sound domesticated?’
They did—and she liked it, Willa thought. Better watch that or else she would get accustomed to waking up to Rob and going to sleep with Rob as well as sleeping with Rob.
Willa rolled off him and sighed, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. Who was she trying to fool...? She was already getting used to all of the above. And his coffee.
No doing anything stupid, here, Willa—like falling for him in any way, shape or form. She was not going to be moronic about this...
Rob walked to the en-suite bathroom. She heard the toilet flush and a burst of water suggesting that he was brushing his teeth or washing his hands. Probably both. Willa rolled onto her stomach, turned her head to the window and looked out onto the bay. It was a gorgeous summer’s day, and if she and Rob weren’t up to their ears in work she’d suggest that they take a canoe and snorkelling equipment into the reserve and have a picnic.
It was Saturday, after all.
‘Guess I’m making coffee.’
She flicked her eyes to the free-standing mirror to her right and saw that Rob had pulled on a pair of shorts and was looking fit and hot and—more importantly—awake.
‘How do you do that?’ she grumbled.
Rob walked around the bed and sat on the edge, placing his hand on her hip. ‘Do what?’
‘Look all chipper and raring to go? Especially after sex?’
‘Sex energises me.’ The corners of that amazing mouth—so talented—tipped up. ‘I’ve been feeling very energetic lately.’
Willa smiled. They had been going at it like muskrats—or whatever animal it was that bonked like crazy.
‘And laziness, moving slow, is a habit,’ Rob added. ‘I’ve noticed that people who don’t have to get moving quickly—to get to work on time, to make appointments—are perpetually lazy. And late.’
That was true; Willa admitted reluctantly. She had little sense of time and was nearly always late to everything.
Rob’s expression turned serious. ‘That’s something that you’re going to have to work on, Willa. I hate people not being punctual and I hate laziness.’
Willa slowly sat up and tried to ignore the flash of hurt annoyance coursing through her. ‘I’m not lazy...’
Rob just looked at her, his face implacable. ‘Yeah, you are. And why shouldn’t you be? You spent the last eight years being told to look pretty, to do nothing, be ornamental. It doesn’t work for me.’
Willa said the first thing that came to mind. ‘Good thing you’re not sticking around, then.’
Rob’s hand gripped her thigh and squeezed. ‘Except that you are now working for me...and I expect my pound of flesh. Work-wise. That’s a solid eight, maybe a ten, sometimes twelve-hour day.’
Willa blinked at him. ‘God!’
‘I need to know that you can work until the job is done... If you don’t think you can then maybe you should say so now, before we go any further. No hard feelings. I’ll just find someone else.’
Like hell he would. Willa felt something swell in her throat and thought it might be pride—or something close to it. He was not going to dismiss her, think less of her, just because she’d sat on her backside for eight years...
‘I wasn’t given a choice to do anything else,’ she protested.
Rob shook his head. ‘I don’t accept that, Willa. You always have a choice. The choices might be hard, but there is always something to choose between.’
‘You don’t know what it was like, living with him.’
‘Probably not.’ Rob agreed. ‘But I believe that we live with the consequences of the
choices we make. For years you lived with the consequences of staying with your husband and that was your choice. Now you’re living with the consequences of divorcing him—which...’ he looked around ‘...don’t seem to be that bad. But none of that has anything to do with me...’
‘Exactly,’ Willa murmured, vastly irritated.
‘But what does concern me is your work ethic and whether you can pull your weight with me. I run fast and I run hard and I expect you to keep up. You don’t—you’re fired.’
Willa closed her eyes at his brutal statement. His bald honestly had the ability to scald skin, she thought. Yet, that being said, it was still a sweet pain. For the first time in her life she knew exactly where she stood, what was expected of her. And nobody was going to give her a head start because of who she was connected to. For the first time ever she was going to sink or swim and she was in control.
It was her choice...
She lifted her chin and looked Rob straight in the eye. ‘I choose to work my ass off.’
‘Good. I expect nothing less.’
Nobody had ever been this forthright with her, this honest. She’d always been handled with kid gloves and it was both enthralling and annoying, to be treated so... She wanted to say so carelessly, but that wasn’t fair to Rob. He wasn’t a careless man but he was demanding. He had a high set of expectations and he expected her to reach them. She didn’t intend to let him down.
More importantly, she didn’t intend to let herself down.
‘Let’s go out tonight,’ Rob suggested, changing the subject adroitly.
Her lover was back and her boss had—temporarily, she was sure—left the building. She couldn’t keep up with who she was dealing with and she didn’t like it. And if she didn’t put her foot down now... What was Kate’s favourite saying? You teach people how to treat you...
‘This isn’t going to work for me,’ she stated firmly.
‘What? Having some dinner? Seeing a show?’
‘That too, but no... You flipping between boss and lover.’ Willa pushed her hair back and waved at the bed. ‘I declare this a no work zone.’
‘I’ve lost you. Explain.’
Willa made herself meet his eyes. ‘You can’t segue from talking about sex and how it energises you into making a comment about my work habits and what you expect. And then switch back to lover mode and talk about where we should eat dinner. That’s not fair. When you’re in my bed, when we’re naked, you don’t get to say things like that.’
Willa held her breath as she saw the emotions run through Rob’s eyes. She was starting to be able to read his eyes, she thought. Irritation, thoughtfulness...embarrassment?
Rob rubbed the back of his neck before reaching over to cup her face. ‘You’re right.’
You’re right? That was it? No comeback? No long speech asking how she could possibly think that, that he had a right to say what he—?
‘I’m sorry.’
He was apologising? Holy smokes! Seriously?
‘That’s okay.’ Willa managed to get the words out despite her astonishment. A big, alpha man who wasn’t afraid to admit he was wrong? She hadn’t thought they made that type of man any more.
‘So—new rule. We only talk business in the study... Everywhere else, especially the bedroom, is off bounds for work and business,’ Rob reiterated. ‘Okay, sorted. Now, about dinner...’
Willa took a moment to get with the programme, still amazed at how easily the issue had been resolved. She pulled a face. ‘I would love to, but I can’t. I have a fiftieth birthday party to attend.’
‘I thought you said that you don’t have any friends in Sydney?’
‘Well, I don’t...not really. Except for Misha and Vern. It’s his fiftieth birthday party and they’ve begged me to come. I’m absolutely dreading it.’
‘Because the douche will be there?’ Rob guessed.
‘Yeah.’
‘So don’t go. Life is too short to do things you don’t want to. Blow it off. Let’s go have some fun instead.’
She wanted to, but she couldn’t. Misha and Vern had been her biggest allies and staunchest defenders when she’d been married to Wayne. They were one of the most influential and nice couples in that elevated social strata.
Unlike the wives and girlfriends of Wayne’s friends and business cronies, Willa hadn’t had children or a career, and she’d hovered on the outside of their group, rebuffed one too many times to make much of an effort to be included. The husbands had been a different story: to them she’d been fair game. She’d been groped, hassled and propositioned, and whenever she’d complained to Wayne he’d accused her of looking for attention.
Walking back into that den of vipers would stir up gossip, and she would have to endure not only seeing Wayne again but the nasty asides, the up and down looks, the sotto voce comments behind manicured hands.
‘Misha and Vern were always nice to me—my social haven, if you will. They were always happy to include me in their conversations, at their table, welcoming my opinions. Attending Vern’s birthday bash is my way of showing my appreciation,’ Willa stated.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
Willa stared at Rob’s hand on her thigh, broad and masculine. Of course she wanted him to come with her—what could be better than walking in with a super-sexy new man on her arm?—but she refused to ask him. She could—would—do this on her own if she had to. She wasn’t the same person she’d been then; she was stronger, happier, confident.
‘What’s the dress code, where is the party, and what time do we have to be there?’ Rob asked.
Willa imagined punching the air and doing a crazy happy dance but she kept her face straight. ‘Black tie, on a yacht in Campbell’s Cove, at eight. Thank you for offering to escort me.’
‘Like those expressive eyes of yours weren’t begging me to,’ Rob scoffed, leaning forward to brush his mouth across hers briefly.
‘It’ll be staid and stuffy and Wayne will most definitely make an appearance.’
Rob raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to talk me out of going with you?’
‘I just want to make sure you know what you’re volunteering for. You don’t have to come if you really don’t want to.’ Willa lifted her chin. ‘I can and will go on my own. I’ll be absolutely fine.’
‘Sure you will—but you’ll be a hell of a lot better with me,’ Rob shot back, and shoved his hand through his messy hair.
Yeah. No arguing with that.
‘Look, Willa, I’m not totally insensitive or emotionally stunted. I can see that you’d rather walk on broken glass than go, but I admire your sense of loyalty—and, trust me, I’m as surprised by my offer to go with you as anyone. It’s not something I’d usually waste my time on, but you look like you could do with some support and it looks like I’m it. Why do I suspect that too few people have really been there for you when you needed them to be?’
Willa blinked her tears away and licked her lips. Wasn’t that the truth? She knew that her father and brother loved her, but her father wanted her to have a perfect life, to be protected, and she and Luke had never been close. She’d allowed her friendships with the people she met at the Weeping Reef resort to fade away when she’d stepped into Wayne’s world—only to find out that his world was a hard place and that her husband, so charming and charismatic on holiday, was the King of Cold and Cruel.
God, didn’t she sound melodramatic? But it was only now that she was standing in the sun she realised how frozen she’d been. She knew that she was being irrational, but she felt that the party tonight had the ability to flash-freeze her again.
Rob lifted her chin in order to make her look at him. She didn’t know that her eyes were large and miserable and soul-deep scared.
‘You don’t have to go,’ he reiterated.
‘I do. For Misha and Vern and for my pride.’
‘Okay, then. I’ll be with you every minute, and to get to you Wayne will have to go through me,’ Rob promised her. ‘Trust me, I’m more than a match for him.’
Willa looped her arms around his neck and placed her face on his shoulder. ‘Thanks.’
Rob’s hand brushed over her hair, down her spine. ‘I’ve got your back, Willa.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
LATER THAT MORNING Willa left Rob to work out in her gym and headed to Surry Hills for lunch with her girls. She now had ‘girls’, she thought as she spotted Kate’s bright red head at the back of the restaurant. Kate and Amy and...Jessica.
Jessica—who seemed to collect people like some women collected shoes. And that was okay, Willa thought. It wasn’t as if she had so many friends that she could refuse the offer of friendship from anyone.
Willa, dressed in a bright pink halterneck dress and peony-pink flip-flops, hair up in a tail, grinned at her friends as she slipped into the empty fourth chair.
‘Dear God,’ Amy murmured. ‘You’re so getting lucky.’
Willa grinned. ‘I so am...’ Turning to the waiter, she placed her order for a virgin mojito.
‘What’s the point?’ Amy cried.
‘The last time I drank with you I woke up to a stranger in my bed and a house full of guests,’ Willa explained.
‘The stranger is still there, bonking your brains out, and you told me that it was a fabby party,’ Kate replied crisply. ‘Add the booze,’ she told the waitress.
When Kate used that tone of voice nobody argued.
The waitress snapped her chewing gum and grinned. ‘Sure. Something to eat?’
‘Later, honey, thanks—just bring the drinks, please,’ Kate said, and waved her away. She leaned back in her chair and sent Willa a thoughtful look. ‘This isn’t just about sex...something else has happened.’
Kate, after spending so many hours with Willa hammering out her divorce, had become something of a big sister, and probably knew Willa better than any person alive. She’d held her hand, mopped up her tears and—metaphorically—slapped some sense into her. Kate had ripped the rose-coloured glasses off her eyes and had made her grow up, and for that Willa would be eternally grateful.