by Nina Croft
The office looked different. There were one, two…three potted plants on the desk, an orange, a yellow, and a red one—he had no clue what they were. He remembered her saying she loved flowers all those years ago.
Two photos stood on the desk, one of a woman with a look of Summer about her, presumably her mother. And one of Summer and two other women, a brunette and a blonde, all high-fiving. There was no photo of the man she’d been with the other night. Good.
He’d built himself up to seeing her. Had she gone? Disappeared again?
He headed across to his own office and pushed open the door. Thankfully, his office looked exactly the same as when he left it. No flowers. But he’d found his personal assistant. She was in the big leather chair behind his desk and she was…spinning. Her eyes were closed.
“Summer.”
The chair stopped turning, but still faced away from him. For a few seconds, she didn’t move. She was so small, he couldn’t see her head above the back of the chair. He’d just decided he needed to say something else when the chair slowly swung around.
If he’d ever wondered what Summer really thought about him, then he didn’t need to wonder any longer. It was there on her face, plain to see.
Abject horror.
“Pleased to see me?” he asked wryly.
She cleared her throat. Her hands were still gripping the arms of the chair, but she released them slowly, wiping them down her gray skirt.
“My…uh…chair doesn’t spin,” she said.
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, her face free of makeup, though she had more natural color than when he’d last seen her. She wore a plain white shirt and a gray skirt that skimmed her knees. He could vaguely remember the outfit from her first stint of working here in the accounts department.
She certainly wasn’t dressing to impress. And whatever she’d spent her ill-gotten gains on, it hadn’t been clothes. Or makeup. Or jewelry. She wore none, except a simple black watch.
He suspected the outfit was more to make her invisible than anything else.
The worrying thing was, he found it amazingly sexy. She looked prim and proper, and he’d seen her naked. He knew she was anything but prim.
She jumped to her feet, smoothed her hands down over the skirt, then shifted from foot to foot, biting her lip. She wasn’t comfortable around him. Was she remembering that he’d been deep inside her? That he knew what she looked like when she came? That he’d made her moan with pleasure?
Shit, he shouldn’t be thinking about that. Because he’d decided he wasn’t going there again. And now he was getting hard just from the memory.
He strolled into the room, and she edged around the desk, her hands gripped in front of her. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said.
He studied her silently, and she almost twitched under his stare.
“Er…can I get you anything? Is there anything you need?”
You.
He had an image of her perched on his desk, prim gray skirt bunched around her hips, prim white shirt open. Beneath it, he could make out a plain white bra.
She cleared her throat and he realized he’d been staring at her breasts for at least thirty seconds. He raised his eyes to her face. Her cheeks were flushed with color, but her eyes were clear of expression.
He had to get a grip. “Set up these meetings.” He handed her a piece of paper. “And ask Harry to come up.”
She scowled as he mentioned Harry.
“What’s he done?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He raised a brow.
“All he did was drop by, tell me he didn’t trust me, that I was going to screw up, and then let me know he’d be waiting to march me to the police station.”
“He wants you to screw up.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “We sort of made a bet. I said you could change if someone was willing to help you. He reckons you can’t.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “You made a bet?”
He shrugged out of his jacket, handed it to her as he passed, and she took it automatically. He sat in his chair where she’d been spinning and studied her. She looked miffed, her teeth clenched, brows drawn together. “Not actual money.”
“Let me get this straight. You ruined my life for a bet.”
He grinned. “No, I’d already decided to ruin your life anyway. But this added to the fun.”
“Fun?”
“Come on, Summer. Your life is hardly ruined. You’ve got a good job; you’re well paid and away from temptation.”
She opened her mouth. Then, clearly thinking better of whatever she’d been going to say, she whirled around and marched to the door. She opened it but then turned back. “I need tomorrow morning off.”
“What for?”
He presumed she’d been hoping that he wouldn’t be back. That she could take the time off and he’d be none the wiser.
“None of your business.”
He folded his arms across his chest and waited.
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “My friend Darcy is being released tomorrow. I promised to meet her.” She swallowed, stood up taller. “Please.”
“The woman who owns the gym?”
She nodded.
At least she wouldn’t be alone in that place. “Okay. You can have the morning off.”
“Thank you.” She sounded as though the words caused her physical pain. But she said them. A moment later, she was gone, the door shut behind her.
He sat back in the chair. She seemed so quiet and unassuming. But that wasn’t who she really was. Underneath, she was a mass of seething emotions. She’d just learned to hide them.
Why?
Summer Delaney was an enigma. He might have promised himself he would keep his hands off her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find out exactly what made her tick.
He spun around in the chair, a smile tugging at his lips. Then he reached for the phone.
…
Ugh.
He’d made a bet that he could rehabilitate her. What sort of person did that? Reduced someone’s life to a goddamn game? She hated that she couldn’t just tell him to go to hell.
But she couldn’t risk that he might turn her in to the police.
And he’d been staring at her breasts.
The pervert.
She would sue him for sexual harassment, except he hadn’t actually harassed her.
She’d hated the way her nipples had tightened to hard little peaks under his stare. Heat flooding her belly, sinking lower.
Stop thinking about him.
Dreaming about him. How many times had she woken up, hot and bothered and so turned on, sleep had been impossible? She plonked herself down in her chair and picked up the phone, then dialed Harry’s number.
“Nik is back. He’d like to see you.” She slammed the phone down without giving the jerk time to make any snarky comments.
She’d been sort of kidding herself that this whole thing wasn’t too bad. That she would get through it. Obviously, that had been far easier when there was an ocean between her and Nik Masterton.
As it was, she was enjoying the job, though there hadn’t been that much to do. She’d spent time familiarizing herself with the structure of the company. It was huge. Spread out across the globe. One thing she had learned was that Nik had broken off business ties with Trenton Industries soon after he’d become CEO. She had no clue why, but she hoped it was because he didn’t approve of the other company’s underhanded business practices.
So maybe he wasn’t the bad guy she’d thought him to be. He was still a rich, arrogant asshole, though.
She was guessing that the workload would increase now that he was back.
She still felt a little disoriented, finding it hard to accept that she could do what she liked, when she liked. Eat whatever she wanted. There was every sort of takeaway imaginable, all within easy walking distance of the flat. She was working her way around the world: Chinese, Indian, Turkish, Thai�
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In her spare time, she’d been riding on the Underground, getting off at different places and just walking for hours. She’d met Sherry, Danny’s new girlfriend. She was a social worker and a tough woman who seemed more than a little suspicious of Summer. She presumed Danny must have told her they’d been a couple, on and off. Summer hoped she’d put the woman’s mind at rest, because she was clearly good for Danny.
She switched on her monitor and started setting up the meetings for Nik. She was halfway through the list when a knock sounded on the outer door. It opened, and a man about Summer’s age popped his head around. When he saw Summer, he grinned.
“Delivery for Summer Delaney?”
“That’s me. But I didn’t order anything.”
He shoved the door wide open and then pushed a chair in ahead of him. A chair just like Nik’s. A chair that spun.
An inane smile tugged at her lips. He must have ordered her one.
Why did he have to go and do something like that?
“Are you new here?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you around.”
“I started last week.” She’d been keeping to herself. She was still a little worried that someone would recognize her. Remember her as Sarah, not Summer. So she ate her lunch at her desk and kept away from the finance department.
“I’m John,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Summer.”
She got up and leaned across the desk, took his hand, just as Nik appeared. He lounged in the open doorway, watching as her hand dropped to her side, almost guiltily. But what did she have to feel guilty about?
Absolutely nothing.
She stepped aside as John rolled the old chair out of its spot behind her desk and pushed the new one into place.
“Thanks,” she said.
John looked from her to Nik. She suspected he wanted to say something else, but wouldn’t under the boss’s eye. She was glad. He seemed nice enough, but the last thing she needed was any sort of involvement. Her life was way too complicated. And besides, she was coming to realize that she didn’t actually like nice men. They did nothing for her.
He left, and she sank down into her new chair. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me by not spending working hours flirting.”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
“You were holding hands and batting your lashes at him.”
“No, I—” What was the point? She gave him her best sarcastic smile. “I thought he might be worth cultivating. You know—if ever I feel the urge to steal some chairs.”
Humor flashed across his face. Christ, why did he have to be so gorgeous?
“Is it comfortable?” he asked. It took her a moment to realize he meant the new chair. “It looks a little high.”
As he stepped toward her, she reached underneath for the lever, then brought the chair all the way down with a jolt.
His lips twitched. “Do I make you nervous, Summer?”
“No,” she scoffed. “Do I make you nervous, Nik?”
“Absolutely terrified.”
What the hell did he mean by that? But before she could say anything else, Harry stepped into the room. She felt the usual sense of irritation he always managed to invoke prickle across her skin. He’d made it perfectly clear from day one that he didn’t trust her. Of course, there was the little fact that he’d made a bet with Nik. He was counting on her to screw up. Plus, he always looked so…perfect. Immaculate suit, hair perfectly cut. He made her feel inadequate in a way Nik never did. Yet seeing the two men together, it was clear who had the upper hand in the relationship.
Harry raised an eyebrow when he saw Summer almost on the ground.
Nik held out a hand, but she ignored it and pushed herself to her feet.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked.
“Summer has a new chair. She likes to spin.”
Harry shook his head. “You wanted to see me?”
“Come through. Summer, I’ve sent a report to you. Can you print it off and bring it in?”
“Yes, sir. Certainly, sir.”
She waited until they had disappeared, then fiddled with her chair until she got it the right height. Once that was done, she printed off the report.
She took it through and handed it to Nik, who was seated behind his desk. She made to turn and leave but stopped as Nik held up his hand.
“Just wait a minute. I might want you to make some changes.”
Harry stood by the window and she shifted from foot to foot, trying to pretend he wasn’t scrutinizing her.
“So, I’m guessing you learned all sorts of useful things in prison,” he said, standing with his hands in his pockets, that pompous, superior smile on his face. “Safecracking, lock picking…?”
Actually, Regan was a jewel thief, albeit a reformed one, and had taught Summer about both—in theory, anyway. Hey, they had to entertain themselves somehow. There wasn’t a whole lot to do in prison. But obviously, there was no way she was going to use her newfound skills. On the other hand, Darcy had taught her something else entirely. Something she’d never envisaged using, but now saw the perfect opportunity. She cast a sideways glance at Nik. He still sat in his chair, but had stopped reading the report and was watching the two of them as though they were misbehaving children.
She walked toward Harry slowly. She would have only one chance at this, and she wanted it so badly, it was like a pain in her chest. He’d niggled her one too many times. She gave him her best sweet smile. “You want me to show you what I learned?”
He shrugged. “Go ahead.”
She stopped in front of him.
“Well?” he said.
And she whirled around and kicked out, hitting him smack in the center of his chest. Perfect. Shock flared across his face as he toppled backward and crashed to the floor.
Harry lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Would you like me to show you some more?”
He came up on his elbows and looked at her. She couldn’t quite read what was in his eyes, but the boredom was gone. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Did you know that Summer’s ex-cellmate was a contender for the world MMA championships?” Nik said. His lips twitched. “I’m guessing not.”
He must have had Darcy investigated. Perhaps he’d had everyone she was connected with investigated. She tried not to worry. “Darcy believes that every woman should be able to protect herself,” Summer said. “She reckons there are a lot of dickheads out there who would definitely benefit from being knocked on their asses occasionally.”
Harry picked himself up and brushed himself down. “You needn’t look so amused,” he said to Nik. “I’m guessing I’m not the only dickhead around here.”
“You want to knock me on my ass, Summer?”
Oh, yeah.
She’d like to swipe his legs out from under him, knock him flat on his back and then…
There she was again. Off into fantasyland.
She sniffed. “Of course not.”
“This is okay,” he said, waving the report. “You can go.”
Thank the Lord.
She headed back to her desk and continued with her work, setting up meetings with various heads of departments. She got to the last entry on his list, only it wasn’t a business meeting. Confirm date with Giselle Savant tomorrow night, book table at Dino’s for eight o’clock.
He was getting her to make his dates for him. She recognized the name. The woman was a supermodel. Tall and thin and gorgeous and everything Summer wasn’t. And she’d phoned Nik that night at Summer’s apartment. This was obviously not a first date.
It really shouldn’t matter.
But it did.
Chapter Nine
Summer couldn’t believe how good it felt to see Darcy again. She was grinning madly as the gate opened and her friend walked through.
Darcy was beautiful in a striking way that made an immediate impression. She was on
e-quarter Chinese, which showed in her ivory skin and the almond tilt to her dark eyes. But her hair was a natural platinum blond, cut short—she’d done it herself in prison—and spiky so it showed off her high cheekbones and long, slender neck. A good five inches taller than Summer, she wore black jeans, a black tank top, and Doc Martens boots embroidered with bloodred roses. The black and red ink of tattoos snaked down her left arm. She was super cool. Summer couldn’t ever imagine being that cool.
But there was a sadness lurking in her eyes. Summer had been there when Darcy had gotten the news that her sister had been killed in a car crash. She’d seen her break down, and then slowly put herself back together again. She’d wanted revenge, but the person responsible had died along with her sister. Darcy had been convicted of grievous bodily harm against her brother-in-law because she’d broken his arm when he’d been drunkenly beating up Darcy’s sister. Unfortunately, he was also a police officer, and no doubt his friends had rallied around him, and Darcy had gone down. It should never have happened.
But when was life fair?
Now the only family Darcy had left was her sister’s baby, born while Darcy was inside, so she’d never even met the little girl. Summer knew that child was Darcy’s biggest hope for the future.
They hugged, and then Darcy stood back, her hands still on Summer’s shoulders, and studied her. “You look well. Much more color, and I think you’ve put on weight even in just a week. Have you been eating properly, working out?”
“No and no.” She just hadn’t felt up to it. She would, though. That had been the plan when she got out. To take control of her life. Obviously, that hadn’t exactly worked out. But just because Nik was controlling her working hours, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t take control of the rest.
“Don’t worry.” Darcy patted her on the arm. “Now that I’m out, we’ll soon get you in shape.”
“Why does everyone think I need looking after?” she muttered.
Darcy pursed her lips. “Who else thinks you need looking after?”
This wasn’t somewhere she wanted to go right now. She still hadn’t decided what she would tell Regan and Darcy about her current situation, her new job, and the threat that was hanging over her head. Part of her wanted to share it, to see if they had any ideas. But really, there was nothing they could do. Other than maybe put out a hit on Nik…although she was pretty sure that would be a violation of their parole.