Desert Moon

by Jennifer Taylor

  Her patience was waning by the second, eroding away with his mocking taunts and, if she was honest, with the strange reactions her body kept giving. She didn’t like Flynn O’Rourke; he was a perfect nuisance who had done nothing but disrupt her life since he’d had the temerity to force his way into it. Yet that didn’t explain the odd little shivers running races up and down her spine, the hot tingles of awareness she experienced as she looked at him lounging there in her kitchen chair!

  His smile faded abruptly, his green eyes cooler than Arctic ice as they rested on her face. ‘You want to loosen up a bit, Natalie, and not take everything, yourself included, so seriously. The plain truth is that you weren’t in any fit state to be left by yourself last night so I decided to stay here to keep an eye on you. That’s it. No great mystery, and no, I most definitely didn’t attempt to have my wicked way with you.’

  He made it sound so ridiculous, like something out of a Victorian novel, and her face flamed but she stood her ground. ‘It would be a cold day in hell before that happened, O’Rourke!’

  He was up out of the chair and around the table before she could gasp out a protest. Catching her chin in one lean hand, he bent to stare into her startled black eyes. ‘I wouldn’t be quite so sure of that. Tossing out that kind of a challenge to a man is a sure way to make him want to prove you wrong.’

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be a challenge!’ She caught her breath and twisted herself free from the disturbing contact with his hand, her eyes blazing with anger. ‘Don’t bother giving me all that macho rubbish, because I’m not interested!’

  ‘Macho? And last night it was chauvinistic? You don’t seem to hold a very high opinion of me, Natalie, and after all the trouble I went to last night...’

  ‘You probably only did it for your own ends!’ she flung back at him.

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’ His eyes narrowed, coldly assessing, sending a chill through her body. She had the sudden feeling that she had touched a nerve but unfortunately didn’t know which one so couldn’t touch it again!

  ‘That you probably stayed not to help me, as you claim, but just so you could bait me this morning. It seems to give you no end of pleasure!’

  He grinned lazily, folding his arms across his chest as he studied her furious face and sparkling eyes. ‘And there was I doing my Good Samaritan act... You wound me, my sweet.’

  ‘Good! I wish I could do it a bit more effectively, leave you in no doubt about the fact that I want you out of my home and out of my life just as soon as humanly possible!’

  ‘In that case there doesn’t seem an awful lot left to say, does there?’ He strode past her, walking unhurriedly into the sitting-room to pick up his shirt from where it was draped over the back of a chair and slip it on. He buttoned it partway then sat down to slip his feet into his shoes, rolling the black silk socks into a ball and pushing them into his pocket. Picking up his jacket from the arm of the sofa, he hooked a finger in the collar and swung it over his shoulder, then glanced over at where Natalie was standing, silently watching.

  ‘Right, that’s it, then. Thank you for your hospitality but take my advice and invest in a bigger sofa. That one is death for any guest’s back unless they’re a midget.’

  Natalie bit down hard on the retort. Guests were people who were invited to stay and O’Rourke didn’t fall into that category. However, it seemed prudent not to prolong his leaving by arguing over such a technicality so she merely watched as he walked to the door. He glanced back at her with a mocking smile.

  ‘Aren’t you coming to wave me off, Natalie?’

  Natalie smiled tightly back at him as she marched into the hall and opened the front door. ‘But of course. I wouldn’t want to miss doing that for anything.’

  Flynn laughed deeply, his voice holding a rumble of amusement. ‘It’s been good meeting you, Natalie. I have really enjoyed it, believe me. If I didn’t have the strongest suspicion that you would refuse I would be tempted to suggest we do it again soon.’

  Natalie’s fingers curled around the edge of the door as she hung on to her temper. ‘How well you are starting to know me.’

  ‘Oh, not half so well as I would like to.’ He bent and brushed a kiss over her cheek, drawing back before she could frame a protest. He grinned at her furious expression, flicking a finger softly against her mouth. ‘No, don’t say it, Natalie. Let’s not spoil this tender moment.’

  Natalie’s fingers were locked in a death-grip on the wood because she was afraid to release them in case she did something dreadful! ‘If you have quite finished...’ She inched the door over, wanting only to be rid of him before he did or said anything else. However, he stopped her from closing it. with a hand against the wooden panels.

  ‘Not quite. I almost forgot. You had a visitor last night.’

  ‘A visitor...Marcus?’ There was a note of eagerness in the question that she hadn’t meant O’Rourke to hear and she felt colour run under her skin at the openly assessing expression in his green eyes.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you but no, it wasn’t Marcus. I think I told you that he intends to be away for a couple of weeks—unless you know differently, of course?’

  What was there in his deep voice now—a certain harshness which turned what should have been nothing more than a passing remark into a question? Natalie shrugged but didn’t answer, more concerned with finding out who the visitor had been than working it out, and after a moment Flynn continued smoothly.

  ‘Actually it was your boss—Guy, I think he said his name was.’

  ‘Guy? But what did he want? Why didn’t you get me?’

  Flynn shrugged dismissively. ‘You were dead to the world so I didn’t see any point. Frankly, I doubt if you would have been in any fit state to discuss business.’

  ‘I would have preferred to be the judge of that! Honestly, O’Rourke, what gave you the right to make that kind of decision for me?’ She bit off the rest of the tirade, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Arguing was only prolonging this, and that was the last thing she wanted. ‘Did Guy leave a message?’

  ‘No. In the end he decided to leave it until he saw you today. I must say he seemed a pleasant enough character.’

  Natalie smiled tightly. ‘I’m sure he will be eternally grateful for that compliment. Now, if that’s it...’

  ‘It is apart from where I put your clothes.’

  ‘Where you put my clothes?’ Natalie’s voice rose and she looked away from the green eyes which were glittering with undisguised amusement, heat suffusing her when suddenly she spotted the elderly woman who lived in the next flat.

  ‘Mmm, yes. They were soaked through so once we’d got you undressed I hung them in the bathroom to dry off.’ Flynn’s voice seemed to echo around the small hallway, the deep tones resonant with meaning. Natalie just had a chance to glimpse the expression on her neighbour’s face before the woman closed her door, but it was enough to tell her how it had sounded!

  ‘Why, you...you...!’ She knew exactly what she wanted to say, could hear each word clearly inside her head, but her mouth refused to frame them. And while Natalie struggled Flynn bent and patted her cheek.

  ‘Thanks for a really wonderful night, honey.’

  He was gone before she could stop him, before she could give voice to all those angry words. Instead Natalie had to content herself with slamming the door. Swinging round on her heel, she marched into the bedroom and picked up the photograph and stared at it. It was a tried and tested method of soothing her nerves, although she didn’t recall ever feeling this angry before! Yet for some reason the magic didn’t work this time.

  She concentrated harder on Marcus’s familiar features, his dark hair, the straight nose, that fascinating cleft in his chin...

  The picture started to blur around the edges and Natalie blinked rapidly to dispel the fresh one which was replacing it, but it proved as impossible to rid herself of the man’s image as it had been to rid herself of the fleshand blood version. Blond hair, danc
ing aqua eyes, a face so handsome it might have come from a painting... Flynn O’Rourke was stepping into her mind just as easily as last night he had stepped into her life!

  If anyone had told her twelve hours ago that she would be doing this then Natalie would have told them they were crazy. But a lot could happen in a few short hours, as she knew to her cost!

  Slamming the car door, she strode into the entrance of the imposing block of flats. It was empty apart from the porter on duty behind the desk. He nodded to Natalie but made no attempt to stop her as she made her way to the lifts. Over the past couple of years she’d been a regular visitor to the building as she and Marcus had shared the odd, companionable dinner in his flat. She posed no threat to the residents or their property in his view. If only the man had some idea what she would like to do to one particular resident then maybe he wouldn’t be so complacent !

  Lips compressed, Natalie set the lift on course for the third floor. When the doors glided open she didn’t hesitate, her footsteps muffled by the thick grey tweed carpet as she strode across the hall and rapped on a door; but there was no answer. She knocked again, louder this time, her impatience rising. If he was out...

  ‘Yes? Natalie! What a lovely surprise. Do come in.’ Flynn O’Rourke was suddenly there, mouth curving into a mockingly familiar smile as he saw the shock on her face. He glanced down at the white towel wrapped around his hips, the only item of clothing he was wearing, then said smoothly, ‘You got me out of the shower.’

  Natalie stalked past him, trying her hardest to ignore all that gleaming wet skin, the aroma of soap and shampoo which clung so enticingly to him. ‘So I see. Unfortunately I need to speak to you, though.’

  ‘Do you? Sounds interesting.’ He closed the door then waved a hand towards the sitting-room. ‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I get dressed?’

  Natalie would have loved to tell him not to bother but the thought of conducting a conversation with O’Rourke in that state was more than she could cope with.

  She walked into the familiar room, feeling a tug of pain that Marcus wasn’t there. She’d heard nothing from him, but then why should she? He had no obligation to tell her of his whereabouts, but it still hurt that he had gone away without so much as a word to her first.

  ‘Can I get you anything—a drink or coffee, perhaps?’ Flynn’s arrival in the room cut off the painful line of thought. Natalie turned to look at him with a relief which only lasted a second or so. He’d dressed in well-washed jeans which clung lovingly to his long legs and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, casual clothes yet he looked just as elegant and stunning in them as he had done in the black dinner-jacket. Natalie was suddenly intensely conscious of the fact that she’d come straight from the office without bothering to change out of her usual garb of knee-length black skirt and silky knit sweater. She hadn’t even run a brush through the snarls in her black hair and she suddenly wished that she’d taken time to change into an outfit which would have given a boost to her confidence. But there again this wasn’t a social visit; it was strictly business! she quickly told herself.

  ‘Nothing, thank you,’ she replied shortly.

  ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re upset?’

  ‘Probably because I am!’ She swung round to walk to the window, trying hard to stay calm, but now that she was here and O’Rourke was just a few feet away that seemed the hardest thing in the world to do!

  ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what’s wrong?’ Flynn’s voice was deliberately reasonable, the deep tones meant to be soothing, but all they did was set a light to her temper.

  ‘You know what’s wrong! Why did you do it? Just tell me that!’ She swung round to glare at him, tossing back the long strands of hair as they swirled around her shoulders.

  He sat down on one of the black leather chairs, regarding her quizzically. ‘I’d be happy to if you would just give me a clue as to what it is I’m supposed to have done.’

  ‘Supposed? There’s no supposed about it. It was done deliberately! Cold, calculated and deliberate interference—poking your nose in where it wasn’t wanted yet again!’

  Flynn sighed, steepling his fingers to stare at her over the top of them. ‘I can’t for the life of me imagine what it is, so perhaps I had better run through all the possibilities. I didn’t lay a finger on you last night so that rules out any future repercussions.’ He ignored Natalie’s gasp of outrage, a pensive look on his face as he ticked off his fingers. ‘I don’t think I left anything behind, nor did I help myself to your silver, so that’s two and three dispensed with. So what else could it be?’

  She must have been mad to imagine that they could talk about this rationally! Natalie strode back across the room, her eyes flashing with temper, but Flynn merely rested his head back against the cushion and regarded her levelly.

  ‘If I have created some sort of a problem for you then I want to know what it is.’ There was no mockery in his voice now, just a steely hardness she’d heard once before. Natalie hesitated, trying to reconcile this cold-eyed stranger with the man whose mockery had made last night an unforgettable experience. On the surface Flynn O’Rourke seemed to treat life casually, with an almost throw-away attitude, but was that merely a way to disguise that underneath that laughing, charming facade lay a man who was tough to the core?

  ‘Natalie?’

  The stern note in his voice roused her and she looked away from eyes which suddenly seemed far too discerning. ‘If you hadn’t——’

  He cut her off smoothly. ‘Poked my nose in. Yes, I know, so let’s not waste time rehashing old grievances.’ He got up and walked over to the table where there was a pot of coffee standing on a tray. He poured a cup then carried it back and offered it to her. ‘Drink this and tell me what’s wrong.’

  Natalie took the cup from him but made no attempt to drink it. She glared back at him from stormy black eyes. ‘This grievance is perfectly fresh! Just what did you and Guy talk about when he came to my flat last night?’

  Flynn raised both brows but didn’t reply until he’d poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down again. ‘This and that. I can’t remember it all in detail.’

  ‘Can’t you? Then allow me to jog your memory, Mr O’Rourke. Do you recall Guy mentioning that we had a problem with one of the models for the Renshaw contract?’

  He shrugged. ‘I might.’

  Her lips snapped together and she took a quick step - towards him. ‘And do you remember Guy asking you what line you were in?’

  He took a sip of his coffee then carefully put the cup down before smiling at her. ‘I do seem to recall something about it, yes.’

  ‘Then you must recall what you told him?’ Another couple of steps had her standing in front of his chair.

  ‘Much the same as I told your friend Renshaw, I imagine. Why? What’s the problem, sweetheart?’

  ‘I am not and never will be your sweetheart! And the problem is that, thanks to what you apparently said, Guy has got it into his head that you would be the perfect choice to replace the model who’s gone sick! I couldn’t believe it when he told me this morning. I spent almost an hour trying to convince him that the idea was crazy and then... then...’ She stopped abruptly, drawing in a long angry breath which did little to unlock the furious jumble of words.

  ‘Then?’ he prompted.

  ‘And then this afternoon Damian arrived.’ She sank down abruptly on to a chair and ran her hand wearily over her eyes. ‘Damian is determined that Egypt, the new Renshaw fragrance which we are promoting, will be a huge success. He intends it to be the market leader this Christmas, the result of a massive promotion throughout the summer months. No expense is to be spared, and all photographic work is to be done on location in Egypt because he feels, quite rightly, that it would be impossible to duplicate the atmosphere in a studio. Now he has decided that he wants to come along on the shoot next week just to ensure that it all goes well!’

  ‘And t
hat presents a problem?’

  ‘Yes! Of course it does!’

  ‘So can I take it that his interest in you hasn’t waned after last night?’

  Natalie gave him a murderous look. ‘No, it hasn’t! If anything he’s keener than ever, and it’s all your fault, O’Rourke! If you hadn’t...hadn’t challenged him last night by trying to prove how much you knew then I’m sure Damian would have turned his attention to someone else. Now, after this afternoon’s conversation, it’s obvious that he’s keener than ever to capture my heart because it would be such a blow to your over-inflated ego! And accompanying us to Egypt seems to him the perfect opportunity to do so!’

  Flynn smiled lazily, studying Natalie’s softly flushed face in its frame of silky black curls. ‘I don’t think I’m wholly to blame, honey. I think a large part of the blame must rest squarely on your own shoulders.’ His voice had deepened to a husky warmth which played sudden havoc with Natalie’s already stretched nerves. ‘You are a beautiful woman. It’s no wonder that Renshaw wants you.’

  ‘That has nothing whatsoever to do with it! If you had handled last night with a bit more tact and diplomacy then I’m certain Damian would have found other fish to fry!’

  Flynn chuckled. ‘What a metaphor! Still, I don’t suppose there’s any point in arguing about it now. I imagine that you didn’t come here just to voice your complaints. So what do you want, Natalie?’

  ‘What I want is to turn back the clock twenty-four hours so that I’d never left that message on Marcus’s phone!’ Now that the moment had arrived when she had to tell O’Rourke what she wanted him to do it seemed the hardest thing in the world. She’d dealt with persistent admirers before, so surely she could handle Damian Renshaw? Yet even while she tried to convince herself she couldn’t help but recall the expression on Damian’s face that afternoon when he’d informed her of his plans. Shaking Damian off wouldn’t be easy and she couldn’t afford to antagonise him when it could mean losing the account even at this late stage.