by Anne Oliver
He turned back just when she thought he wasn’t going to acknowledge her in any way and said, ‘And see if you can dig up the hard copy of the works schedule for the Carson Richardson project from last month, ASAP, client wants alterations as of yesterday.’
Resigned, Sophie slid her lunch box back into her bag. ‘I’ll get right on it.’
He checked his watch. ‘I’ll be back at two, if you can have it ready for me by then.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Sophie, you haven’t stopped all morning,’ Mimi said at one-thirty. ‘You are permitted a lunch break. Take one.’
She did. She ate her honey and walnut sandwiches in the lunchroom and washed it down with a coffee all in under ten minutes. No way was she going to let Jared see that she wasn’t up to the job. She could handle anything he threw at her. In fact, she wondered if he was testing her, just to see how she performed under pressure. Why, she had no idea. It wasn’t as if she’d be a regular here.
The rest of the day kept up the same frenetic pace. In one way it was good because it took her mind off the man and the evening ahead. Mostly.
The business dinner, she reminded herself as she responded to an email enquiry.
Five-thirty rolled by. Five forty-five. Sophie had plenty of work still to keep her busy but she really needed to know the details for tonight. Since he hadn’t mentioned it again, neither had she.
Jared and a client were still in his office. With the door closed. The ebb and flow of a tense-sounding conversation warned her it wasn’t a good time to interrupt. Was she to assume the arrangement still stood?
The door opened and both men walked out.
‘Sophie. What are you still doing here? It’s almost six.’
‘I needed to finalise a few details.’ Like where to meet you tonight? But she could hardly ask that in front of a client and give the impression it was business. Not with the flush she could already feel creeping up her neck.
She smiled blandly at his client, then busied herself tidying her desk. ‘I’m just on my way home now.’ Not that Jared heard; he was already walking away. She clicked off the screen and closed down the computer.
A moment later, Jared returned from seeing the guy to the elevator. ‘You’re still here.’
‘You noticed,’ she said with asperity and immediately regretted it. She reached for her bag. It was the sort of jealous female response you might give a lover and wasn’t what she’d meant, in addition to being totally inappropriate in the workplace.
He stared at her a full ten seconds with those intense green eyes. She had him speechless. A first. Then he said, ‘You’re still on for tonight, I hope,’ and something in his gaze sharpened.
She felt its effects right down to her toes. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘So you’re one of those quick dressers, are you? That’ll be a first.’
‘Not particularly,’ she said, trying for nonchalant, but that flick of his eyes over her body as he’d spoken had felt like a flame thrower. ‘You haven’t told me where to meet you.’
‘I told you yesterday I’m picking you up at seven.’ The tone of command with a dash of impatience.
‘I said I’d meet you there…wherever.’
‘No. You didn’t.’
He was right, she realised. He’d cut her off when she’d tried to ask. With a little resigned inward sigh, she slung her bag over her shoulder. She didn’t have time to argue and she knew she wouldn’t win this one. She also knew it wasn’t all business, so she asked, ‘What’s the dress code for this place you’ve chosen?’
‘How does casually elegant sound?’
‘Fine.’
‘Pacific Gold apartments…?’
‘Unit 213.’
‘Make it seven-fifteen.’
Humour snuck in and she arched a brow. ‘We agreed on seven. You saying you can’t be ready in fifty-five minutes?’
He didn’t reply but his eyes flashed a challenge.
She shook her head once. ‘Seven o’clock.’ She turned away quick smart and headed towards the lift, praying, praying, he didn’t follow. She simply couldn’t handle another trip in the elevator with him right now.
Jared drove home only a touch above the speed limit and jumped in the shower. He didn’t have time to think about the tight sensation in his chest, nor to acknowledge the sense of anticipation he hadn’t felt since his teenage years. Which was just as well.
Moments later he ran his fingers through his damp hair. Quick shave, splash of subtle cologne at the last minute. He threw on dark chinos and an open-necked oatmeal linen shirt. No tie. Casual business dinner. One that might lead to a more relaxed after-dinner coffee somewhere?
He was walking to the front door at the same time as Melissa, also dressed for a night out.
‘Wow.’ Looking him up and down, she sniffed the air. ‘Is that a new cologne?’
‘You and Crystal gave it to me last Christmas.’ He just hadn’t had an occasion to wear it. ‘And it’s a business dinner, Liss.’
‘I certainly hope so—I heard you arrange it in the car. You wouldn’t win any dates with that austere approach…’ She studied him some more, met his eyes with a cryptic look. ‘You don’t look business… Are you going to be late home?’
‘I don’t know, Liss,’ he said, annoyed and running late. She was asking him that question? ‘Why?’
‘Just letting you know I’ll be out late too,’ she said, walking to the door ahead of him. ‘I’m meeting friends for burgers then we’re going clubbing later.’
‘Don’t get into a vehicle with anyone who’s been drinking.’
He was checking for his wallet but he could almost see her eyes rolling up as she walked down the garden path when he heard, ‘No, Daddy.’
He made it to the front door of Sophie’s apartment with two minutes to spare.
The door opened as he was about to knock and he was looking straight into those eyes, touched with humour now. ‘What took you so long?’ she said.
‘No points for being early?’
Her warm brandy eyes weren’t the only things attracting his attention. His gaze dipped. She was wearing a slim white knee-length dress. A complicated series of straps pulled the bodice into a bunch of fabric just below her collarbone and tied behind her neck, leaving her shoulders bare. Stunning smooth shoulders that gleamed like honey in the amber light behind her.
So she hadn’t gone with strictly business either.
Half-moon earrings the colour of limes dangled on gold thread. She wore a matching bracelet. She reminded him of a tropical milkshake cocktail, long and cool and inviting. Too inviting. He wished they could just dine in. On each other.
‘I’ll grab a jacket.’ She hesitated before asking, ‘Do you want to come in for a moment?’
Come in? His groin tightened. More than you know and for a lot longer than a minute. He cleared his throat. ‘Maybe later.’
She disappeared while he counted the various species of tropical flora on the other side of the balcony that formed a courtyard within the apartment block, and thought about penguins and Antarctica and ice-cold beer.
When she pulled the door closed, mercifully he had himself pretty much under control. ‘I hope you like seafood.’
‘Love it.’ She led the way. They took the stairs down. Three flights. ‘I try to keep fit.’
She didn’t need to explain; it was obvious the elevator was a problem for her. He thought of telling her so. It would be ridiculous if they couldn’t even manage an elevator together, but he also wanted to make it to the restaurant with a dinner partner. He wanted her at ease with him. It was vital to have her comfortable in their working relationship. Or any kind of relationship.
The journey took ten minutes. On the way Jared stuck to the usual and asked about her working day. They pulled up outside Enzo’s Seafood and Grill and were shown to a corner table overlooking the beach where a few tiny lights winked on the dark strip of ocean.
With the fine weather this evening,
the windows had been removed, allowing the balmy tropical evening in and giving the impression they were outside. On the decking a string of party lights and a couple of flaring bamboo torches provided a warm ambience.
After they’d ordered, for the first time all day, Sophie forced herself to relax. To enjoy the experience of dining with a gorgeous man at a classy restaurant and converse on a variety of non-threatening topics. The latest in local entertainment, the real estate market. The pros and cons of living in a high-profile tourist destination.
The champagne he’d ordered was perfection—cold and fruity and fizzy. Her prawn and avocado cocktail tasted fresh and sweet. On the table, the tiny tea light inside its ruby glass cube seemed to draw them closer. Way too intimate for a business dinner but business wasn’t what this was about. Had never been what this was about. She knew it. He knew it.
While she waited for him to initiate the discussion on the supposed reason they were here, she took another sip of wine and let the bubbles tickle her nostrils and dance on her tongue. She’d not seen Jared in anything other than business attire and this more relaxed Jared was no less stunning.
He’d taken the short time he’d had to shave and to splash on something that made her want to lean forward and breathe him in. But she wouldn’t want to stop at breathing… To avoid the temptation, she reached for her napkin, pressed it to her lips and leaned back.
‘Good evening, Jared.’ A good-looking Italian appeared at their table. Black hair and eyes, and a roguish smile, which was currently directed at Sophie. ‘And to your lovely dinner companion tonight.’
Jared grinned at him then at Sophie. ‘Enzo. I’d like you to meet Sophie Buchanan. She’s filling in for my PA for a few days.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘Enzo’s Rico’s brother.’
‘Ah, yes, the best fish and chips in Coolangatta. I remember. Pleased to meet you, Enzo.’
He smiled at her again, all smooth Italian charisma. ‘We’re very busy tonight or I’d stay and chat. Charmed to meet you, Sophie. Come back another time, meanwhile have a pleasant evening.’
Sophie smiled back. ‘Thank you.’
They’d decided on a shared seafood platter; a variety of oysters, salt and pepper calamari, grilled prawns and tempura garfish, served with a crisp rocket salad drizzled with a lemon olive oil dressing.
Conversation ceased while Sophie, who’d eaten nothing all day but her sandwich several hours ago, savoured every delicious mouthful and made each one count. How often did she get to eat at such a pricey restaurant? The answer was never.
While she tucked in, she noticed Jared’s attack on the sumptuous food was just as enthusiastic. She asked, and discovered he’d skipped lunch too. Watching him eat was as much a treat as watching him work. He gave both tasks the same enthusiasm and undivided attention and she knew with a quiet certainty that rippled through her feminine places that he’d give the same to a lover.
‘Dessert?’ Jared asked a while later when the main dishes had been cleared away and she’d more or less calmed down, for the moment at least.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Allow me to order for both of us.’ He motioned the waiter.
‘As long as it’s loaded with calories.’
He smiled at her then referred to the menu, indicated his choice. ‘For two, please.’ A corner of his mouth tipped up. ‘I guarantee you’ll like it.’
A short time later, she stared at the plate the waiter had set between them. She felt the colour rising up her neck, bleeding into her cheeks, and thanked the little red tea light on their table for its camouflaging effect.
Italian blackberry Frangelico torte, she was informed. With a mountain of whipped cream.
Blackberries and cream…well, it was an obvious choice, wasn’t it? Bolstered by a couple of glasses of bubbly, she met Jared’s eyes across the table. Amusement flashed back at her.
In spite of herself, she couldn’t help the wry little twist of her lips. ‘And here’s Pam telling me you don’t have a sense of humour.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Pam said that?’
She toyed with the stem of her wine glass and ventured, ‘Maybe it’s her way of saying you should loosen up some.’
He cocked his head as if the notion was absurd. ‘And what do you think?’
‘From what I’ve seen in the office today, she may have a point. Then again, there’s this other side she obviously hasn’t seen that kind of balances everything out.’
His lips curved. ‘You’re talking about my sharp wit and immeasurable charm.’
‘Naturally.’
His smile widened to a grin for a split second, but then it faded and something other than humour stole into his eyes. Something darker, harder, more ruthless. He was silent a moment, staring into space. ‘I run a multimillion-dollar company, Sophie. It’s my life’s ambition, my reason to get up in the morning, my passion.’ He picked up his dessert spoon and drew circles on the heavy white cloth. ‘Sometimes I forget that employees have priorities other than their nine-to-five job at Sanderson’s.’
Sophie nodded. There was a sense of remoteness about him. As if he was used to distancing himself from the rest of the world. She picked her way carefully, watching his expression as she said, ‘She also mentioned Crystal and Melissa and how you’ve been brilliant with them.’
His distance remained, his expression shut down. A barrier she couldn’t cross. ‘The business is the reason I’ve been able to afford to give my sisters something of what they’ve missed out on over the past twelve years. Enough about that. We’ve more interesting matters to discuss.’
His relaxed convivial demeanour returned as if he’d flicked a switch. How did he do that? she wondered. How could he turn his emotions off so easily and so completely? She only wished she had the same ability.
She finished the remainder of her wine while she studied the mouth-watering layers of hazelnut sponge, white chocolate and blackberry coulis in front of them.
‘I ordered this concoction for a reason.’
‘I can see that.’ She was tempted to ask if he was going to feed it to her and watch her moan in pleasure. After all they both knew how the story went… She pressed her tingling lips together. Thank heavens they were in a public place because she was appalled to think how easily she’d let him seduce her if they were somewhere more private.
But as she watched him dip his spoon into the cake, add cream and lift it towards her mouth it was like falling into a hypnotic state.
Especially when he murmured, ‘Open up, Sophie,’ in that deep silky sexy timbre that made her think of dark chocolate…and a different set of circumstances when he might say those words.
He was thinking the same thing because his eyes seemed to take on a smoky gleam as he leaned closer, offering the spoon.
Her heart stopped, thumped once then pounded out a fast rhythm and her mouth fell open of its own volition. He slid the cake between her lips. Smooth, slow, slippery. She couldn’t look away—it was as if he held her captive. She sucked the delicious mouthful from the spoon. He’d engineered this sneaky…whatever-it-was…and she’d played right into his subversion.
‘What’s the verdict?’ he asked.
‘It’s nice,’ she managed. It wasn’t only her tongue; every part of her was out of kilter. She gave herself a mental shake and made every attempt to pull herself together.
‘Nice? Is that the best you can do?’
‘Right now?’ she snapped out—but quietly. ‘Yes, it is.’
He grinned slowly. Using the same spoon, he scooped up another morsel and popped it into his own mouth. Still watching her. Still with that smoky gleam in his eyes.
She picked up her own spoon. ‘Remember where we are.’
‘And the reason we’re here.’
She watched him through narrowed eyes while she ate. When she’d almost finished, she said, ‘This dessert wasn’t on the menu, was it? You ordered it specially.’
‘It was worth it, don’t you agree?�
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‘Your business dinner’s a fake and we both know it.’ She scooped up a final mouthful, then sat back and crossed her arms.
‘No,’ he said slowly, as if talking to a child. ‘We do need to discuss Noosa.’
Suddenly it was decision time and she wasn’t sure she knew the right answer. Or if he was even going to ask the question. ‘I plan to spend the upcoming weekend familiarising myself wi—’
‘I’m talking about after hours.’ He cut her off with an impatient flick of his hand and his gaze pinned hers. ‘And we both know it.’
Her words echoed back to her. At the same time, his eyes promised all manner of tempting after-hours delights and her insides flipped like a stack of pancakes. Beneath the table she twisted her hands together. ‘Go ahead and talk.’
‘Make no mistake, Noosa’s been on the agenda a while.’
She nodded, knowing it was important to him that she understood he hadn’t planned the whole thing to seduce her. ‘Pam told me.’
‘The way I see it, this is the perfect opportunity to explore this attraction we have. Get it out of our systems. Move on.’
Attraction. Physical, sexual. Mutual. She was still overawed with the knowledge that this dream of a guy was interested in her. For however long it took to ‘move on’.
Was she game enough to go along with this? Experienced enough? To play it casual, have great sex—and it would be great sex with Jared Sanderson—then fly away to the other side of the world? She was leaving in three weeks and nothing and no one was going to stop her. So many ifs. Dream lovers were much less complicated.
But looking at the real man there was no comparison.
‘If you’re worried about repercussions,’ he said, ‘Pam’ll probably be back at her desk by the time we return.’ We can continue to see each other if we both decide that’s what we still want.
‘And your overseas plans won’t be a problem,’ he continued. ‘We both know up front how it’s going to be.’
Like a New Year sky-show, she thought. An explosion of sparks, heat and energy, over almost before it starts. And very terminal. Sky-shows also left an inevitable trail of cold ashy destruction as a reminder.