Play Thing

by Nicola Marsh

  Alex smiled. ‘Shall do.’

  He liked the camaraderie among the team here. After working at many companies he’d witnessed his fair share of backstabbing and undercutting but workers at The Number Makers seemed to have a surprising bond despite the uncertainty in this economic climate.

  Not that he’d be around beyond a month but he valued loyalty and it went a long way to helping him make the tough decisions when the time came.

  Battling Sydney’s mid-afternoon stream of traffic, he made it to Le Miel in thirty minutes. He had no idea what Charlotte’s ties were to the patisserie but from what he’d heard she frequented the place a lot.

  As he strode towards the shop and saw a young hipster guy grinning at her with obvious fondness, he hoped that wasn’t why.

  An uncharacteristic stab of jealousy made him falter. Had his foolish behaviour driven her into the arms of another guy? An old boyfriend perhaps?

  However, the closer he got he realised the hipster couldn’t be older than late teens. Considering Charlotte had to be mid-twenties tops it wasn’t completely out of the question that she’d hook up with a young guy.

  But she’d told him she hadn’t dated since university and he knew he was being an idiot, jumping to stupid conclusions when he should be barging in there and making up for his behaviour.

  Knowing he couldn’t afford to botch this up, he pushed the glass door and entered gastronomic heaven. The aromas hit him first. Cinnamon, sugar, vanilla, and for a startling moment he catapulted back to the past. He remembered running into the kitchen back home after school, the same smells making him salivate as his mum took a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven.

  He’d perch on a stool at the island bench, where she’d have a glass of icy chocolate milk waiting for him, and get his wrist playfully slapped while trying to sneak the cookies before they’d cooled.

  Those had been good times, when his dad had still been employed and his mum would ask him about his day and he’d regale her with funny stories, like the time a goat got into the classroom and ate his teacher’s curriculum, or the time the principal chased the school bully all the way down to the dam and fell in.

  She’d laugh so hard. One of the few times he’d see his mum laugh, which was why he’d tried so hard, often inventing stories just so he could see her happy.

  Because young Alex knew that once his dad entered a room all the happiness drained out of his mum. They’d seemed to sap each other of any form of lightness and it had spiralled downward until his dad hadn’t been able to take it any more.

  When he’d got the call about his dad’s death, the first thing he’d wondered was if he could have done more. If he’d stayed around, would his dad have had more reason to live? They’d had so little in common and when his father had rebuffed his constant overtures to be mates, Alex had stopped trying. Alex loved sports, his dad had hated them. Alex liked hiking beyond the farm, his dad had stayed within its boundaries, rarely venturing outside.

  Losing his job had changed his father and for someone already on a slippery slope into moroseness it had pushed him over the edge. Alex had eventually decided to leave his dad alone, counting down the days until he could flee the oppressive house. He’d escaped Rocky Plains as soon as he finished high school and his dad had died four years later.

  He didn’t want to think about how his parents had co-existed after he left. He didn’t want to surmise that his absence had thrust his parents together more, that their obvious friction would have quadrupled and that had ultimately led to his dad’s demise.

  ‘Alex?’

  He blinked at the sound of his name, disconcerted by his memories, to find Charlotte staring at him.

  Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t pleased to see him. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I brought your files,’ he said, fishing them out of his briefcase and laying them on the table beside her laptop.

  ‘Uh, thanks.’ She stared at him as if he’d personally delivered a ticking time bomb. ‘Don’t you have more important things to do?’

  ‘Considering how I screwed up this morning, nothing’s as important as making things right with you.’

  His honesty surprised her, her sharp intake of breath followed by a subtle wariness as she eased back into her chair. As if she was trying to put as much distance between them as humanly possible.

  She pinned him with a direct stare. ‘Are you talking about the way you ran out of my apartment or the way you treated me in your office?’

  She didn’t flinch away from the truth. He admired that.

  ‘Both,’ he said, grimacing. ‘Though they’re linked.’

  ‘Let me guess. You’re trying so hard to keep business and pleasure separate that you had to prove you could leave my bed in the morning and treat me like a lowly employee at the office.’ Disgust underpinned her accusation and he didn’t blame her.

  He shook his head, her insight not surprising him. She had a way of homing in on the truth without sugar-coating it. It was refreshing, when most of the women he’d been involved with in the past were master game players who couldn’t admit the truth if it bit them on the ass.

  ‘It’s more complicated than that.’

  She waited, not saying a word, her scepticism palpable.

  ‘I don’t do sleepovers,’ he blurted, folding his arms. Yeah, as if that would stop the insistent urge to reach for her every time he was around her. ‘So when I woke next to you this morning, it unnerved me and I didn’t handle it very well.’

  To his relief, the corners of her mouth twitched. ‘Sleepovers involve popcorn and ice cream and horror-movie marathons and pyjamas.’ She schooled her expression into a faux innocence he found delightful. ‘And we had none of those things, so technically it wasn’t a sleepover.’

  ‘God, do you know how badly I want you right now?’ he murmured, curling his fingers into fists under his arms to stop from reaching for her. ‘You’re this beguiling contrast of aloof one second, teasing the next. It’s driving me nuts. I can’t think. I can’t concentrate, for wanting you.’

  ‘Stop doing that.’ She jabbed a finger at him. ‘You can’t go from making me want to slug you for your arrogance to making me want to straddle your lap.’

  He stifled a groan. ‘And that’s another thing that drives me crazy about you. How blunt you are. I like it. A lot.’

  ‘So what are we going to do about it?’ Her eyes darkened to pewter, her dilated pupils making him want to yank her onto his lap, other customers be damned. ‘Because here’s another dose of that bluntness you seem to like so much about me. I won’t tolerate being your play thing in bed then being given the frosty treatment in the office. It’s not doable.’

  She waggled her finger at him and he wanted to capture it and suck it into his mouth. ‘I understand we need to keep business and pleasure separate. Heck, I stipulated it. But there’s a difference between being polite co-workers and the way you treated me this morning.’

  ‘Agreed.’ He glanced around, saw that no one seemed to be the slightest bit interested in what they were doing, and snagged her hand. ‘I hated how cold I was to you in the office this morning, especially as my mood had more to do with me not being man enough to face my fears. Forgive me?’

  Her lips parted on a surprised O and he’d never wanted to kiss any woman as badly as he wanted to kiss her at that moment.

  ‘What fears?’

  ‘Babe, you have no idea.’ He raised her hand to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss across the back of it. ‘I don’t do commitment. I don’t do emotional connection. I don’t stay in one place long enough to make those things happen—’

  ‘Which is why you don’t sleep over.’ She snapped the fingers of her free hand, shooting him a shy glance. ‘So you’ve never stayed over at a girl’s place, ever?’

  ‘Plenty of women, never girls,’ he deadpanned, earn
ing a whack on his arm.

  She laughed and the rich sound of genuine amusement lightened his heart. He’d been worried coming here that he might have screwed things up between them beyond repair but he should have known she’d be as magnanimous in this as she was in the way she’d handled every onerous task he’d thrown her way over the last few weeks.

  ‘So we’re okay?’ He squeezed her hand before releasing it. ‘You’ll still work your way through that lingerie box for me?’

  ‘Only if you’re lucky.’ She winked, her playful side so at odds with the woman he’d assumed she’d be from their business dealings that he couldn’t help but stare. ‘For now, I need to get back to work and you need to take afternoon tea back to the office.’

  ‘You can come back with me, now that you know I won’t bite your head off?’ He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Or we can skive off work for the rest of the afternoon and do naughty things to each other in private?’

  Colour stained her cheeks but he glimpsed the gleam of excitement in her eyes. ‘I have a lot of work to do and there’ll be less distractions around here.’

  ‘Okay, suit yourself.’ He shrugged. ‘But just so you know, I’m always up for that naughty stuff, any time.’

  She took a long time to answer and when she did, it was worth the wait.

  ‘Later.’

  That one word pepped up his mood considerably and he made it his goal to show her exactly how crazy she drove him later.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TRUE TO HER WORD, Charlotte had ploughed through a stack of work that afternoon. She’d completed tax assessments on three client files, a monumental task considering the level of complication. It had served its purpose.

  Keeping her mind off Alex.

  And she’d done the same thing for the next few days, working offsite, immersed in client files, determined to impress with her work ethic—and keep her hands off him.

  She’d been blown away that he’d shown up at Le Miel to apologise, even more so by his honesty. And secretly thrilled that he’d spent a night with her earlier in the week, a first for him.

  She shouldn’t read too much into it. He’d probably been tired and fallen into a deep sleep. But the fact he’d acknowledged it meant something to her; that despite all his protestations about being unable to connect emotionally, maybe a small part of him already had.

  They’d made their agreement, so the fact he’d spent the night shouldn’t be such a big deal, yet why did it feel as if it was?

  It made her wonder. Had she sensed something that day at the warehouse? That this guy could pleasure her in a way no man ever had? That for once she’d rather live a fantasy, no matter how brief, rather than read about it?

  An outlandish, ludicrous supposition, especially as she only dealt with facts and figures on a daily basis. But even when she’d learned her sexy stranger’s true identity, she hadn’t shied away from him. She’d tried; he had too, with their initial conversation to keep things professional.

  She guessed she should be grateful that they were both adult enough to confront their unrelenting attraction and do something about it without letting it interfere with work. Well, not much anyway. Because every time she completed a task, every moment she had between clients, her thoughts drifted to Alex and how badly she wanted him.

  It defied logic, this constant yearning to have him. She’d gone from celibate to sex maniac in no time.

  Thanks to Alex.

  She wanted to show him how much she appreciated his honesty and his apology earlier that week.

  And she knew just the way to do it.

  However, she dithered for a full hour and a half after her naughty idea first struck. She headed home and cleaned counters in the kitchen, scrubbed the bath, even disinfected the toilet, her least favourite job on the planet. Doing the most menial of tasks couldn’t dislodge her idea and she pondered it.

  Doing something so outrageous as turning up at his workplace on a Friday night with seduction in mind...baffled her. How could she, the queen of low self-confidence, do something like that, let alone think it?

  Seduction was for self-assured women who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to grab it.

  Isn’t that you lately?

  ‘Dumbass voice of reason,’ she muttered, sifting through the lingerie box for the hundredth time.

  Silk and satin slid between her fingers, soft and sensuous, as she imagined Alex experiencing the same tactile sensations if she wore this stuff and he touched her...

  With a frustrated growl, mind made up, she snagged what she needed, had a quick shower and headed back to the office before she could change her mind.

  With a new boss intent on making changes, a few people would have stayed back to work late but most would have left by seven-thirty.

  Even if a few foolhardy souls remained, Alex’s door had a lock.

  She’d texted him before she left home on the pretext of a work discussion to ensure he’d be at the office. He’d responded with a flirty ‘work or work?’ She’d left him guessing, responding that she’d be there in fifteen minutes.

  She’d made it in ten.

  After swiping her card through security, she entered the office, to find all the lights dimmed and not a workaholic in sight.

  Good.

  She’d worn flip-flops, easier to slip off, and a white cotton dress she’d picked up for ten dollars many moons ago.

  A dress with a zipper down the front.

  She’d bought it on impulse, when Mak and Abby had been hassling her to go clubbing with them. But she’d got the flu and hadn’t been too sorry to miss out on yet another social occasion where she would have felt gauche. So she’d never worn it, as it made her feel slightly vulnerable having that zipper on it. As if it could slide down at any time and reveal more than she intended.

  Tonight, that was exactly what she hoped for.

  For someone who’d ignored her sexuality for so long, she’d turned a little slutty. And was enjoying every minute of it, despite her usual self-doubts rearing their ugly heads at inopportune moments.

  She could see it so clearly: being in her fifties, still living in her dream cottage that she hoped to put a down payment on in a fortnight, her kids dropping around for a visit, cooking up a storm, but still remembering during the odd illicit moment how she’d turned into a vixen for that brief period at twenty-five before she settled down.

  In her daydream she could envisage a husband too, the perfect guy who’d come home at the end of the day and slip his arms around her waist from behind while he nuzzled her neck.

  She’d turn, secure in the circle of his arms...to find Alex staring at her with blatant lust.

  Charlotte stumbled and slammed her palm against the nearest desk for support.

  Alex couldn’t be her dream husband.

  He wasn’t husband material.

  He’d made that perfectly clear.

  Mentally chastising herself for mixing up her daydreams, she traversed the office on steadier legs. With every step she shed shy Charlotte and morphed into her new sexier self, the kind of woman not averse to wearing scandalous lingerie with the aim to seduce.

  Alex had articulated a particular fantasy to her.

  She had every intention of making it come true.

  He hadn’t closed the door completely and muted light spilled out through a crack. She paused on the threshold and took a few steadying breaths to quell her rampant nerves. Wearing racy lingerie and a zippered dress might be a confidence boost, but going through a full-on, office-based seduction was another thing entirely.

  Her arms tingled, nerve endings firing, and she shook them out. Rolled her shoulders. Yeah, like that would loosen her up. She did a few calf raises and managed a rueful smile. She wasn’t warming up for a Zumba class; she was intent on getting Alex warmed up.

&nbs
p; Before her meagre bravado fled entirely, she pushed open the door. And her lungs seized.

  Alex was sprawled across the sofa to the right of his desk, intently studying a financial report. His hair was ruffled, like he’d run his hand through it several times. He’d lost the tie and undone the top two buttons on his shirt, leaving a tantalising glimpse of bronzed chest. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves too, revealing strong forearms.

  She had a thing for good arms on guys. Arms capable of handling a woman. She didn’t mind a broad chest and firm ass either.

  She flushed from head to toe as she recalled exploring much of his body that night he stayed over. Trailing her fingertips over all that gorgeous tanned skin, skirting over ridges and dips, mesmerised by the sheer beauty of the man.

  And he was. Absolutely beautiful. Not an adjective used to describe men usually, but in Alex’s case it fitted.

  He glanced up at that moment, caught sight of her and smiled, sending her pulse into overdrive. ‘Hey.’

  She cleared her throat and managed a sedate ‘hey’ right back at him, as she entered the office and closed the door.

  His eyes widened imperceptibly as she flicked the lock.

  ‘Are you here to take advantage of a hard-working man?’

  ‘Something like that,’ she said, crossing the room to his desk, where she proceeded to remove items and stack them on the floor in neat piles.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Spring cleaning.’

  He laughed and when she risked a sideways glance at him, she knew he knew. Her hands shook as she carefully lifted the PC screen and placed it next to the other items.

  Only when the desk was completely clear did she turn towards him and crook her finger. ‘Come here.’

  He stood so fast the file on the sofa tumbled to the floor and documents scattered. He didn’t care. He advanced towards her, the intent in his gaze making her skin pebble.

  ‘Nice dress,’ he said, stopping two feet in front of her.

  ‘You think?’ She shrugged, as if his proximity didn’t affect her in the slightest, when in fact her heart thudded and the crispness of his aftershave flooded her senses, making her heady.