Inconvenient Lover

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  “Then you don’t like it,” she said, iciness slipping into her voice.

  Horribly, he smiled at her. He seemed amused by it all. “Of course I like it. What man wouldn’t?”

  “You just don’t want me to wear it at the office.”

  He put his pen down and swivelled around to look at her. Apparently the chill in her tone had registered and he treated the matter seriously. “I’m going to be your husband, Anastasia. Not your keeper. You can wear what you please, if it pleases you. It’s nice if it pleases me but that’s just a bonus as far as you’re concerned.”

  She felt herself relaxing a little.

  Hugh carried on. “Besides, you might as well get it out of your system while you can.”

  Anastasia’s defences snapped back into place. “What do you mean, ‘while I can’?”

  Hugh shrugged. “We are getting married soon. Time’s running out. If you’ve got any more of these little pockets of yearnings in there, you’d better exorcise them while you have the chance.”

  “Meaning I won’t have the chance after we’re married?”

  “Well, hardly,” Hugh replied, as if it were self-evident. “We’ll be married. You’ll have a reputation to keep up.” He stood up and moved to her. “So, have your little fling, Anna. If they’re all as fetching as this one it should prove quite interesting. Is that red lipstick smudge-proof?”

  He leaned closer and Anastasia realized he was going to kiss her only the split second before his lips touched hers. Surprise quickly turned to an icy shock. Normally, Hugh never touched her in the office, where they had an agreement to behave like professionals. And all physical contact with him outside the office was predictable, comfortable and undemanding. She had known that would change after their marriage and accepted it in a dim, objective way. So his kiss now was unexpected and she wasn’t ready for it.

  Her mind was startled into a strange dichotomy, where a part of her kept careful record of the event and a clinical monitoring of her reactions. The other half of her mind dealt with the emotional upheaval.

  “MMMmmm,” Hugh murmured against her lips. “This is very good. I could get quite carried away here,” and his hands slid around her waist, drawing her closer to him.

  She felt no such inclination and was faintly relieved. The part of her mind that was an emotionless recorder paused to analyze that relief and came up with the reason for it. In David’s arms she would have lost control. With him, she would have been carried away too. It was a relief to know that it was only with David she would react in that way. It didn’t mean her passion could be applied willy-nilly to any member of the male population. If that had been the case and she could have responded to Hugh as easily, it would have felt more like the betrayal it was, rather than a clinical experiment…

  At that thought, she gasped and wrenched herself out of Hugh’s embrace.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

  She kept her face averted, sure that he would be able to read the damning answer in her expression. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry…it’s just that we had an agreement…”

  It was a poor excuse at best and she wasn’t surprised when he responded with an angry snort and, “What’s got into you, Anastasia? You’ve been acting strangely for a couple of weeks now.”

  “I have?” she asked. Anything to change the subject, to veer it away from her rejection of his kiss.

  “You’ve been distant. Remote. Then there’s all those books you’ve been reading—fine art, theatre, literature. It’s like you’re trying to take on a different personality. And it’s been showing up in your work. Your relationship with your father is deteriorating rapidly—not that it was ever bliss. Your sleep has diminished to barely five hours a night and if you think I don’t know about your swimming, you’re wrong.”

  She bit back her surprise. Her father, of course. A confidential tidbit from one concerned man to another.

  “You keep making decisions that aren’t logical. You seem to pluck them out of thin air. You laugh at the wrong things. And your physical appearance…” He looked at her. “I suppose today could be called the culmination of a process. I’ve been watching your appearance change gradually outside the office. The hair, your makeup and your clothes. You wear it all differently now and I can’t pin down what it is. I hadn’t thought it might cross over to your work. I was wrong. And I’m worried.”

  She bit her lip. “Are you? I’m sorry about that. I’ve had some things on my mind.”

  “I know. We all know. Especially David. You treat him like the enemy, Anna. It’s almost frightening watching the way you deal with him. You continually watch him—like a cat, waiting for him to put a foot wrong so you can pounce. He’s my friend and you promised you would try to like him.”

  She looked at him then, her heart pounding. “He’s said something to you?”

  “He didn’t have to, Anna. I’ve got eyes. I’m only glad David is the man he is. He just laughed it off. He’s still fully convinced that you’re the woman of the year.”

  Hugh’s bewildered summing up brought her mind to focus upon David again and the hidden agenda that had been worrying her. Now she had seen it from another perspective and she could identify at least one part of it. David had been coaxing her dormant nature out of hiding. Step by innocent-seeming step, he had brought her to a point that only he could have discerned.

  And now what? she asked herself bitterly. She looked at Hugh. “Well, don’t worry about it too much. You’re probably right—I’m just letting out some last minute yearnings. Once they’re packed up in their boxes again, I’ll go back to the old Anastasia you want.” She walked across to the table and picked up her pad and pencil. If they can be packed up once they’re out free, she added to herself, slipping out of the room.

  Chapter Ten

  Anastasia walked slowly back to her office, appalled and at the same time amazed at the way she had instinctively labelled Hugh’s kiss as a betrayal to David. It was supposed to be the other way around. Had David crept under her skin so thoroughly that even her subconscious was now convinced he was right and not her?

  Her secretary called out as she passed her desk. “You’ve got a visitor. I put him in your office as usual.”

  She nodded and carried on toward her office door. What was David doing to her mind? Wasn’t he content with proving he could win the battle over her body’s responses?

  She opened the door, to find the very object of her musings, in one of his elegant business suits, sitting propped against the front of her desk, arms crossed, reading a file upside-down, head low. He looked up as she pushed the door wider and began to smile but the smile faded as he took in her appearance.

  She froze in the doorway. David’s arrival at the office wasn’t unusual. But after an absence of a week and coming right after the scene with Hugh, while her mind was attempting to analyze all the issues that David had thrown up in her life since she had first seen him under the bridge, his presence was the catalyst that unlocked a whole chamber of understanding within her.

  At the sight of him, she felt a fierce rush of joy surge through her. She wanted to reach out to him, to draw herself into his arms and cling tightly to him. The strength of the feeling was frightening. She had missed him and her misery at his absence had been the reason for her melancholy. This was the man she had betrayed by allowing Hugh’s kiss. He was infinitely more familiar, more dear to her, than Hugh could ever aspire to be.

  She loved him.

  David stood, studying her. “I know I explained in careful detail how I thought you would look dressed like this but I never got close to the reality of it.” He moved toward her.

  She looked down at her clothes. He had once described exactly what she was wearing and she realized she had, in a symbolic way, acknowledged his hold over her before her conscious mind had learned the truth.

  He crossed the room, shut the door behind her and drew her further inside. “Miss me?” His voice was a warm caress.

>   She swallowed. “Yes,” she said, her voice husky.

  He became still, his eyes wary. “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then dare I assume that you are wearing this outfit for my benefit, even though you didn’t know I might see it?”

  She swallowed. “Yes, although I didn’t know it at the time.”

  He shook his head slightly. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

  “It’s true.”

  He studied her face for a moment. “The temptation… I want to break my own rule and kiss you thoroughly and leave you the way I feel at the moment.”

  She lifted her chin. He and he alone, had the power to do that to her but she couldn’t afford to let him know that now. There were too many revelations she had experienced, too many implications to unravel. She had to hold him at arm’s length, even if her heart was crying out for him to take her in his arms. She needed a little time.

  “It’s a good thing you’re such an honourable man then, as Hugh keeps reminding me.” She brushed past him and crossed the room to drop her pad and pencil onto the desk. “Would you like coffee?” She turned back to face him.

  And was startled to find he had followed her across the floor and now stood very close. His hands settled on her hips, cupping the curves possessively. “I don’t know yet why you chose to dress this way, but I refuse to believe it isn’t a sign that I’ve managed to get past at least some of your defences.”

  She kept very still lest she betray herself by some unconscious movement or expression. David was too adept at reading her face and body. She lifted her gaze up to his face. “You already know the truth of that.” Stay with the truth as long as you can, he had said once. He was close, so very close to her. She swallowed on a dry throat, as the intoxicating smell of him washed over her. Her heart picked up a beat.

  “Yes,” he said on a breath. “I know.” She could see he was fighting off the need to kiss her, to draw her to him. A pulse was throbbing at the corner of his jaw and the jaw itself clenched as she watched. But his warm hands remained steady on her hips, unthreatening.

  They could have remained balanced at that point for aeons, except that Anastasia knew she would be the first to break. So, deliberately, while she was still in control, she put her hands to his wrists and lifted them away from her. She could feel the tendons and bones beneath her fingers. “You had better go.” Her voice was a rough parody of her normal tone.

  David nodded. “Yes.”

  She moved toward the door.

  A muffled groan sounded behind her. “No,” David muttered. His hand caught her arm and turned her back to face him and before she could protest his mouth came down upon hers, hard and insistent. She was gathered up into his arms.

  “No…” It was a hollow protest, for her breath had locked in her chest, fighting with her heart, which had leapt into her throat.

  His lips trailed down the long curve of her throat to the opening of her blouse. “You challenged me. Cool, calm and collected, not a moment of discomposure…” He grasped her waist and lifted her easily and turned and sat her on the desk, shoving files and paper aside.

  “What are you doing?” she said, alarmed. He ran his hand along her leg and under the hem of her skirt. He pushed the skirt back to display the delicate lace edging of her slip and caressed the warm satiny silk. “You move with the grace of a dancer, did you know that? And I catch glimpses of this, mere glimpses and it makes me want to see more. I can imagine…” He reached up to unbutton her shirt and Anastasia shivered as he slid her loosened shirt off one shoulder, revealing the thin coral pink strap of her camisole.

  “Ah,” he murmured. “You’re driving me slowly insane, Anastasia.” He lowered his head and kissed her bare shoulder, his thick dark hair brushing against her cheek and throat. His hand pushed the silky slip higher, revealing the sensitive bare skin of her thigh above her stocking top. She shivered again as he caressed the skin.

  “David…” she whispered achingly. She half closed her eyes as he stroked his hands along the length of her legs.

  “I know,” he replied, answering her unspoken plea. He lowered her to the desk, one hand pushing aside everything on the desk top, the other lowering her down onto the leather inlay. He kissed her again, his heavy body pressed against her, his lips hot and hungry against her skin.

  As his hands loosened her clothing and explored her body she struggled to hold onto the vague worry of being discovered but the contest of will-sapping lethargy and the thrill of his lovemaking drove it from her mind. She found herself responding with no coherent thought, her hands and mouth encouraging him.

  He pulled her thigh up tight against his hip, allowing her to feel his arousal against her. His eyes glittered as she looked up at him. She moistened her lips, feeling their bruised tenderness with the pointed tip of her tongue.

  He closed his eyes. “Heaven help me,” he groaned. He lowered his head to the tender skin at the base of her throat, sank his lips and teeth into the gentle slope at the top of her breasts. His hands fumbled with the tiny pearl buttons on the camisole and she could feel their trembling. Then, impatiently, he tugged and the buttons popped and slid undone, the filmy lace giving way with a soft rip.

  “Perfect,” he whispered, as he took her breasts in his hands. His mouth trailed downward and caught one aching nipple between sharp teeth, driving out a groan from deep inside her.

  His hot mouth devoured both breasts, while his hand slid beneath her back, fingers spread against the skin, to lift her up to him. Her skirt had ridden up over her hips and his hand found the ultra-sensitive plain of her abdomen and slid lower, beneath the lace of her pants, to capture the gentle swell of her.

  She gave a small cry, as her body and mind were hit with an explosion of sparks that twitched every nerve in her body. Her hands found his shoulders and she felt herself raking at him, trying to get closer, to have all of him.

  The strident ring of the telephone by their heads brought them both to a motionless halt. It continued to ring as they lay immobile, gathering their scattered wits. After three rings David lifted his lips from her skin. “Answer it,” he told her huskily.

  She reached above her head and fumbled for the phone and brought it to her ear. “Yes?” she said and was thankful that she managed to sound her normal efficient self.

  “The Robinson Co representatives are here. Hugh is waiting for you in his office.” It was her secretary.

  David placed a finger on the trip-hammering pulse below her ear, then kissed it.

  “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  “Fine.” Sally hung up.

  He took the phone from her and dropped it back onto the base, then kissed her cheek, his lips hard and moist. He lifted himself from her and helped her to sit up.

  She tried to dress herself but her fingers felt clumsy and throbbed with the surge of blood racing rhythmically around her body. She felt the lack of fulfillment like an ache in her breast, making her body hum like a dynamo.

  David tried to help her with the buttons but his fingers weren’t as fine as hers and she brushed his hands aside. “I’ll dress myself,” she said. She gave up on the camisole. It was beyond repair.

  Unlike her, his clothing had barely been disturbed, his business suit was still immaculate. The only sign of upheaval was his ruffled hair.

  “I guess I’m not as strong as I thought, where you’re concerned.”

  She shook her head, not trusting her voice to remain steady a second time. The ache in her body was becoming sour, curdled. As she tucked her shirt back into her skirt, she felt absurdly like crying but didn’t know why.

  David caressed her cheek. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She shook her head again. Abruptly, the tears welled and before she could prevent them, overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. She turned her head away, leaning against the desk for support, swallowing back a sob.

  He drew her into his arms and held her gently. “Don’t h
ide them, Anastasia. They’re natural and I’d have to be a selfish bastard not to know I’m turning your life upside down at the moment.”

  “Then stop it,” she said in a choked whisper.

  “I can’t.” He sighed. “I would if it were only to stop this little hurt but there is so much more at stake than that. Life changing decisions always cost something and this is your price.”

  “It’s not that simple,” she said. She lifted her head and stepped away from him. His clear, almost colorless eyes were warm, sympathetic. “I have to go.”

  He nodded and lifted a hand to brush away her lingering tears. “I’ll see you tonight, then. At the ball.”

  Anastasia grimaced. “The ball. I’d forgotten.” She still had to buy a dress, sometime.

  He pushed her gently. “Go.”

  She turned and left, forcing herself not to look back and headed down the corridor to Hugh’s office, for another boring meeting. She felt like a pendulum, doomed to forever swing between two points.

  She paused at her secretary’s desk to give instructions regarding messages and tasks and paused, struck by a sudden inspiration. She had been looking for time to herself, after all, she reasoned.

  “Sally, I’m going out.”

  “Out?” Sally repeated, astonished. “But Hugh—”

  “Tell him I’m sick. Tell him whatever you want.” She felt her spirits begin to lift as she watched the woman’s face grow even more puzzled. “I’m going shopping,” she declared. “And I won’t be back.”

  “But…Mr. Morgan…”

  “Tell David the same thing. And tell them I don’t want to be found. Hugh can go to the ball by himself tonight. I’ll go with my father.” Anastasia grinned. “Or maybe I’ll go by myself.” She laughed as the perfect response occurred to her. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The reckless sense of freedom that flowed through Anastasia as she stepped out into the busy downtown streets of Seattle was as intoxicating as champagne. It fizzed in her bloodstream, provoking thoughts that made her smile. “This could be dangerous,” she said to herself, as she wrote a mental list of things she wanted to do.