by Nicola Marsh
‘And you’re crazy,’ she said, taking in her blonde frizzy hair, her swollen lips, which looked as if they’d been ravaged all night—pretty darn close to it!—and her eyes, large and luminous and filled with fear.
Fear of where to now, fear of how much she’d miss him once he exited her life, fear of never finding a guy to make her feel half as good as he’d made her feel last night.
‘Whose fault is that?’ He kissed his way up her neck, turning her around slowly, staring deep into her eyes. ‘You make me crazy. With your sexy smile, with your incredible eyes, with that mouth that makes me want to do everything I did with you last night and so much more.’
‘You can cut the sweet talk. I’m a sure thing, remember?’
‘Time for you to shut that sassy mouth of yours. Again,’ he said, lowering his lips to hers in a slow, sensual kiss that would’ve curled her toes if she hadn’t been standing on them to reach up, desperate for his kiss, hating her treacherous body for it.
‘I thought you said you didn’t have any more condoms?’
By the feel of his erection pressing against her stomach, she guessed he wasn’t popping into the bathroom for a quick goodbye. More like a quickie something else.
‘I don’t.’ His hands strummed her back through the silk of her kimono, the slow, steady rhythm making her arch like a cat. Next she’d be purring. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t need them. I was only planning on taking a shower, that’s it.’
But that wasn’t it.
He tugged on the knotted tie and slid his hands under the front of her kimono, skimming her skin, teasing with his touch, brushing her nipples with his thumbs till they peaked in sweet agony.
Her breath hitched as he slid the silk from her body with infinite patience, one exquisite inch at a time till the kimono pooled at their feet in a slash of vibrant emerald-green against the white tiles.
‘I don’t think my shower’s big enough for the both of us,’ she said, eyeing the small glass cubicle with suspicion, considering Cooper took up most of the bathroom already.
‘All the better for a nice close fit.’
With an arm firmly draped around her waist to prevent escape—great, the guy was a mind-reader too?—he turned on the hot and cold taps, tested the water temp and took the opportunity to turn the five-second wait into another scorching kiss.
She could’ve shrugged out of his grip.
She could’ve picked up her kimono and stalked from the bathroom with what little dignity she had left intact.
But then, where was the fun in that?
She’d spent a lifetime being serious, first surviving and later being the model niece for Barb. And more recently, worrying her head off about how to keep the gallery afloat. She never had time for fun.
For that was what this last taste of Cooper would be: pure, unadulterated fun.
‘You coming in? The water’s warm.’
He didn’t force her, standing there wearing nothing but a sexy, persuasive smile, his arm loosely draped around her waist.
Now or never…
Sending him a coy glance from beneath her lashes, she said, ‘You bet,’ and stepped with him into the shower.
A staunch environmentalist, Ariel conserved water by taking minimal showers even though she loved the hot spray peppering her skin. Today, however, her ideals flew out the window along with her reservations as she leaned against Cooper, her back wedged against his front, while his hands travelled her body in long, slow strokes, soaping, circling, teasing, turning her legs to jelly before he delved between them and brought her to a screaming orgasm with a few deft flicks of his fingers.
‘You’re a dangerous woman,’ he said, pulling her into a tight hug that squeezed the breath out of her. Or was it the intensity in his blue-eyed stare that robbed her of the normal function of air-in, air-out?
‘Not really. But I can be.’
She sent him a smile designed to entice, a smile filled with promise.
He’d given her so much pleasure, it was time to return the favour. In spades.
Reaching between them, she captured his erection in her hand, stroking it till he groaned, loving the ecstasy etched on his face as she moved harder, faster, till he came in a hot rush.
His head had fallen back, exposing the strong column of his neck, and she placed a gentle kiss there, knowing they could never recapture this moment, shocked by how sad that made her feel.
Neither spoke.
Instead, Cooper opened his eyes, smiled and rested his forehead against hers, not moving, not saying a word.
And as the water sprayed down on them Ariel knew why.
They had nothing to say.
After all, what could you say when you’d just slept with the enemy?
Cooper knew the precise time his revamped proposal had been delivered to Ariel: ten o’clock. It was now ten twenty-five and it would’ve taken her exactly twenty-five minutes to high-tail it to Vance Corporation in the Central Business District of Melbourne, including the time she would’ve spent jumping up and down on the spot having a tantrum.
She wasn’t going to like the amendments he’d made to the proposal.
In fact, if the ruckus outside his office door was any indication, she intended on making her feelings known to all and sundry before she even made it into his office.
As he pushed back from his desk and strode across his office the door flung open.
‘You’ve got a nerve!’ Ariel shouted, making a beeline for him while Beryl, his secretary, gave an apologetic shrug and made crazy signs with her finger circling her temple.
‘I’ll take it from here, thanks, Beryl,’ he said, walking straight past Ariel to shut the door.
Not that it would make much difference. Half of Flinders Street would’ve heard Ariel’s indignant shriek as she whirled and advanced on him, her eyes filled with emerald fire and her curls bristling about her like a fuzzy halo.
Not that there was anything remotely angelic about the woman considering what they’d got up to last night and in the shower first thing this morning.
‘Why don’t you take a seat and we discuss the new developments like two rational adults?’
‘Rational?’
She drew back her shoulders, drawing his attention to her breasts straining against the Paisley halter top that moulded her like a second skin, eliciting erotic memories of the way she’d felt lying on top of him last night, passionate, feverish, responsive, like a fantasy come to life.
‘You expect me to be rational when you have a courier deliver me this?’
Reaching into a huge straw carryall, she flung a sheaf of papers onto his desk and planted her hands on her hips, looking like an avenging Amazon come to slay him. ‘Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.’
‘What does it look like?’
He shouldn’t antagonise her further, he really shouldn’t, but a small part of him was enjoying their confrontation.
She’d had all the comebacks last night, shooting him down in flames when all he’d tried to do was lay the foundations for a possible future relationship.
She’d hadn’t listened to him, she hadn’t acknowledged his honesty and she sure as hell hadn’t given them a chance even after the most mind-blowing sex. Several times.
If he were completely honest with himself, he didn’t know if he wanted a future with this woman but he’d be damned if he walked away without exploring the fireworks that exploded whenever they were within two feet of each other.
She was confusing business with pleasure and the only way he knew to bring this to quick closure was to finish the business and move onto more of the pleasure. A lot more…of her soft lips clinging to his, her hands all over his body, her excited little moans as he licked her to orgasm…
‘What is wrong with you?’ She broached the short distance between them and snapped her fingers in front of his face. ‘Cut the vague act and start explaining.’
Wrestling his raging libido into some semblance of control, h
e headed for the safety of his desk and away from Ariel’s intoxicating scent. He’d never smelt anything like it and the weird perfume he could now label as neroli thanks to the tiny essential-oil vial he’d spied in her bag the other day had grown on him. A lot. He doubted he’d ever smell oranges again without remembering the blonde goddess with the eyes of green fire.
‘Would you like a drink?’
‘No! I would like an explanation. Now.’
She grudgingly plopped into the leather chair opposite his and folded her arms, looking like a recalcitrant schoolgirl waiting for punishment from the principal.
He sat down, straightening the messy papers scattered on his desk, hoping a few extra seconds would help calm her down.
When he caught her eye and saw the narrow green slits glowing with anger, he knew a few extra hours wouldn’t help.
‘If you’ve read the amendments, you don’t need an explanation. It’s pretty clear.’
‘The part where you’re threatening me or the part where you’ll do anything to get your grubby hands on the gallery?’
She leaned forward, her fingers clenching his desk till the knuckles whitened. ‘Oops, silly me. The gallery doesn’t mean a thing to you, it’s the land you’re after. I really must learn to clarify my terms, just like you have in this pathetic excuse for a proposal.’
He let her vent. He’d expected the animosity, the antagonism, but it hurt nonetheless.
He cared about her.
And he hadn’t realised how much till just now when she looked at him with loathing and contempt.
Damn it, what if his plan backfired?
What if, in attempting to finish the business side of things and move onto the personal, he finished them completely?
‘I’m not threatening you; I’m giving you an opportunity to come out of this deal a winner.’
Her scornful look burned a hole straight through to his conscience. ‘You’re trying to buy me off to get what you want. And if I don’t comply, you go ahead and offer the council twice what the land is worth by the end of today?’
She shook her head, golden curls rioting around her face and a perfect contrast for the faint pink staining her cheeks. ‘Some “opportunity”.’
‘This deal has to go through. Today,’ he said, feeling like a heel when the fire drained from her eyes only to be replaced by fear.
‘I need some more time.’
Her whispered plea slammed into his soul, raising questions he’d rather ignore.
Was his dream more important than hers?
Did he care enough about her to turn his back on his own future?
If he cared, how much?
And what was he going to do about it?
‘Time isn’t going to help.’
Either of them. He needed to get out of Vance Corporation, she needed to start a new gallery elsewhere with the money he was determined she would have. And they needed to recreate the fire that had consumed them both last night, repeatedly.
‘You don’t know that. There’s the National Trust, the Victorian Arts Council…’ She trailed off, the truth finally dawning in her stricken eyes. ‘You’ve already made the offer, haven’t you?’
Cooper hesitated, knowing he couldn’t lie to the woman he loved yet aware the truth would potentially ruin what little chance they had for a future.
The woman he loved?
He slumped in his chair, the words echoing through his head like a gunshot.
He loved her…he loved her…he loved her…
It couldn’t be.
No way.
His mind must’ve slipped up under the strain, substituting the L word for caring.
Yeah, that sounded better. He cared for her.
Much better.
Yet when he met her defeated stare, unshed tears glistening green, his heart made a mockery of his head.
For a guy who thrived on cool, hard facts, who used logic to sort through everything, an emotion he had little time for had snuck up and whacked him a beauty.
The longer Ariel stared at him, the worse his heart clenched till it took every ounce of will-power not to leap from his chair and cradle her in his arms.
‘Tell me the truth.’
Cooper started, shocked to think she’d seen right through him in his moment of revelation before realising she meant the truth about his offer to the council. He could’ve sagged with relief if the thought that what he was about to say would probably rob him of any chance to express his newly discovered feelings ever.
Taking a deep breath, he selected his words carefully. ‘I have approached the council and had discussions about the sale of land but nothing has been formalised.’
‘But you’ve basically thrown more money at them than they know what to do with, right? So if I don’t accept your offer now and sell out before the lease is up, they’re going to jump at it pretty much straight away?’
He nodded, hating the defeated slump to her shoulders, the shaking hand that fiddled with a curl near her right ear, winding it furiously around and around till he thought it would snap off.
‘So what was the extra time about? Giving me another twenty-four hours to stew before I finally capitulate to Mr Big-Shot and make his day?’
Scorn dripped from every word and she straightened, anger replacing defeat in her eyes.
That’s my girl, he thought, admiring her fighting spirit yet wishing he weren’t the one to instigate it.
‘I want you to do this of your own accord, to make the decision yourself.’
She laughed, a harsh, hollow sound that had nothing to do with happiness. ‘That’s rich coming from you.’ Tapping her temple, she looked heavenward as if deep in thought. ‘Let me see. I get to make my own decision as long as it’s by the end of today. Thanks so much.’
‘We’re going round in circles here. That’s my final offer and, as a smart businesswoman, I think you should take it.’
Though it wasn’t his final offer, not if he had any say. Once this whole mess got sorted and they could put business behind them, he had a whole host of other offers in mind, the main one being a relationship.
He didn’t have a whole lot of experience with love.
He’d loved his mum; she’d died when he was too young.
He loved his dad; he might as well have died.
No, love wasn’t a reliable emotion, but one thing was for certain; he loved Ariel and he’d make damn sure he gave it his best shot.
Her steady green-eyed gaze locked on his. ‘Why is this deal so important to you? You’ve used words like imperative. I just don’t get why a ruthless businessman like you would fluff around for a couple of weeks, posing almost naked, going out for coffees, attending art shows and the like when you could’ve shafted me right from the start. What’s with that?’
Cooper bit back an ironic smile. Here was his big chance to hint at his burgeoning feelings.
And get the same reaction he’d had last night before they’d had sensational sex? No way. Making a total ass of himself twice in less than twenty-four hours wasn’t his style.
He settled for semi-truth. It was the least he could do considering she’d stood up to everything he’d thrown at her and then some.
‘This deal is my ticket out of here. It’s something I’ve been planning towards for a while now and I really need to make it happen.’
Her lips twisted in a cynical smile. ‘Why? Aren’t they paying you enough? Not enough perks? The boss got you over a barrel? Though with a name like Vance Corporation, I’m guessing you like to keep it all in the family.’
All in the family.
Ironic, considering he’d lost the bulk of his family, his dad, that fateful day almost a year ago when he’d signed on the dotted line, blown away to be working with someone of Eric’s reputation.
‘My father’s the CEO,’ Cooper said. And all his dad cared about these days was making money, acquiring prime land, developing properties. And all at the expense of the things that used to matter
to him, like fishing, four-wheel driving and hanging out with his son.
Despite Cooper’s drive to leave Vance Corp behind, he knew he’d miss his dad. Cooper hadn’t given up on him completely. Maybe his dad would remember the old saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ and make an effort to patch things up once he left?
He hoped so but he wouldn’t hold his breath.
Ariel quirked an eyebrow, losing none of her sass despite the anger tightening her exquisite features. ‘So it can’t be the pay or the perks that’s the problem if daddy holds the purse strings. What is it? The executive bathroom not up to scratch? You’ve lost your car park?’
‘It’s time for me to go it alone. You of all people should understand that.’
‘Oh.’
Ariel blushed and practically squirmed in her seat, and he held up his hand to ward off whatever she was about to say when she opened her mouth.
‘My motivation is irrelevant. What needs to be done right now is you placing your signature on the dotted line before five o’clock today. That’s all that matters.’
He rustled papers and, along with his brisk tone, hoped that gave her the message. He needed to concentrate on the business at hand, get away from the sensitive topic of his motivation. The momentary concern he’d glimpsed in her eyes had him wanting to blurt out the whole sorry tale just to get it off his chest.
But he couldn’t. He was a guy, a tough Aussie bloke, a man’s man. He would stifle his feelings and get on with things. His dad’s mantra, not his.
And for the last year, he’d thought his dad’s mantra sucked.
‘All that matters?’ she muttered, grabbing her bag and leaping from her chair as if she’d sat on hot coals. ‘What matters is that you’re a selfish, spoiled rich boy who always gets what he wants. You don’t care about who gets trampled on the way or whose dreams your ruin. And to think I was actually feeling for you a few seconds ago, about the whole going-it-alone, doing-it-tough thing!’
‘I don’t need your pity.’
He shot to his feet, torn between wanting to blurt the truth and sending her packing for her damning character assessment. Though at that moment, he didn’t know what rankled more: the fact she thought so poorly of him or the tiny niggle of truth in what she’d said.