Plus One Is a Lucky Number

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Plus One Is a Lucky Number Page 28

by Teresa F. Morgan


  “A few months ago, he was preparing to expand our Manchester factory and he wanted me to oversee it. Then he put it on hold, with his health scare, realising I’d be needed here more. Once I’d been running the company for a while, I could then think about the expansion again.” Sophie nodded, not really having a clue where it was leading. She’d drunk too much champagne and couldn’t even blame Cassie this time.

  “Anyway, our secretary, Joan, is going to make sure I get anything that’s too stressful for my father to handle. He’s agreed to help me by remaining in the office for the next six months – he didn’t really want to retire yet. Joan promised me she’ll make sure he goes home on time, and he’s promised to take it easy.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to move to Manchester, and expand our factory.”

  “You’re coming with me?” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice, though she still felt hesitant. Was that what he was actually saying?

  “Yes, and if you like, we can get a place together between the two companies for ease of commuting and I’ll make a desk for you in our office, so you have office space there – in case you need to get away from that ghastly Nick.”

  “He’s not ghastly.”

  “He is if he goes anywhere near you.”

  She playfully slapped his arm. “You have no reason whatsoever to get jealous. I‘ll set him straight.”

  “Good.” His lips found hers, and his kiss melted her bones. If he hadn’t been holding her, Sophie would have positively wobbled to the floor.

  Once they’d stopped kissing, realising they were still in public, she chewed her lip, frowning. “But this means you’re putting on hold becoming the new M.D.?”

  “Yes, but as I said, my father wasn’t actually happy about retiring early. I will still have a lot of responsibility, supporting him,” he said seriously.

  “Is this what you really want?” She looked up into his eyes, and he strengthened his hold around her, pressing her body close to his.

  “Yes. You’re what I want.”

  She smiled, then nervously worried. “What if it takes longer to expand the factory?”

  “Then, as I said, you can work from our Manchester office. But I hope, all things going to plan, to have it wrapped up in six months at most. But whatever, we’ll make sure we get you home to see your new niece or nephew regularly.”

  He’d remembered. She tried to kiss him, but he put a finger to her lips.

  “And one day – not today, can’t steal James and Kate’s thunder, and I’d like to do it properly – but if I asked you,” he raised his eyebrows, his voice casual, “would you marry me?”

  “Yes!” She kissed him. They held one another tightly, the kiss deepening.

  He pulled away, his sexy grin spreading across his face. “Good. Just remember that answer for when I ask you again.”

  Bonus Material

  Coffee’s On Me

  “We’ve been here before,” said a gravelly voice from behind me. My heart leapt to my mouth, then dropped into my stomach and my cheeks burst into flames.

  I swallowed and turned, my fears confirmed; Carl. How could I not recognise Carl’s deep voice with its sexy rough edges?

  Why him, of all the men in the department, company, city, country even? Hadn’t he left?

  He took a chair beside me, and fire coursed through my body. We wouldn’t need the heater on, I was generating enough heat to warm the whole building - all five floors.

  “Looks like we’re on the night shift together again,” he said, grinning. Well, he seemed chirpy, considering the last time we’d done this shift together it had been a total disaster.

  More for me than him.

  “Just try to keep your clothes on this time.”

  Yes, that’s why it had been a disaster.

  “I will.” I pursed my lips. I wanted to remind Carl he’d been the one removing my clothes.

  “Coffee?”

  I shook my head.

  “Oh, yeah, I suppose you don’t drink coffee anymore?” His smile was so annoyingly flirtatious and he smelled amazing – all male and musk aftershave. He was torturing me. If I told him how I felt, would he laugh in my face?

  Possibly, after last week.

  “No, I’ve just finished one, thanks,” I replied, as cool as a cucumber, then stared at the monitors in front of me. Just empty offices and corridors. Nothing moved. Trying my hardest not to show any reaction to him, I looked him in the eyes – and regretted it, my insides turning to jelly.

  “I thought you were leaving,” I said.

  “I was.”

  This job was some extra cash. All I had to do was watch some monitors and walk the corridors of a swish company on some business park. I’d started University late in life, but it was only now I knew what I wanted to do, and this worked around my studies nicely, paying better than bar work. Carl was probably ten years older, ex-soldier – the Paras I believed, hence his fantastic physique – and was trying to find his own niche in life, too, settling back into civvy street. He hadn’t said why he’d left the army, and I didn’t want to pry.

  “What happened about that personal trainer job?” I asked, my focus still glued to the security monitors, rather than look him in the eye.

  “It fell through.”

  “Oh, sorry to hear that. So you’re back here?” I glanced at him.

  “Never left. Not that stupid.” He winked. “And you? How’s the studying?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Need a nude male model?”

  I coughed, sitting up straighter. God, if I’d been drinking coffee again, it would have been all over me, just like last time. Carl just grinned at me.

  Why an earth had I told him I was studying an art degree?

  That’s what we’d been talking about before the incident. I’d had a life class that day.

  I reluctantly smiled at him. “No, I don’t need a nude male model, thank you.”

  Mind you, what I would do to see Carl naked … all that muscle definition … posing like Adonis. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on drawing him though.

  As it was, he’d seen me down to my bra and knickers. Actually, as hot coffee landed in my lap, I hadn’t any choice. The soldier in him reacted instantly, stripping me down, ripping my blouse open. Buttons flying off as if in some passionate clinch – I’d wished! Once he’d unzipped and removed my trousers, he’d dragged me into the nearest toilets, and started dabbing the red patches on my thighs and stomach with cold water, using paper towels. I’d been too stunned to tell him I could manage, and that he might be overreacting.

  The most embarrassing day of my whole twenty-five years of existence, and yet, dealing with the whole situation calmly, while I stunk, and stung of coffee, he hadn’t so much as batted an eyelid. He’d obviously seen much more horrifying things in his time in the army than non-matching underwear.

  The real indignity of it all was I’d been trying to be poised and cool, flirting with him, trying to be impressive – but it had backfired. How I’d managed to get a whole cup of scalding coffee in my lap I would never know.

  So embarrassing.

  Then again he was probably the cause of the spill. For some stupid reason, I turn all fingers and thumbs with him around. I’d been thankful it hadn’t landed over the equipment and wiped out the security systems. At least the event was just between us. I was sure he hadn’t told a soul. No one else had said anything, or made teasing remarks.

  I’d sat, mortified, with my jacket wrapped around me the whole evening, patches of my skin still stinging, until my uniform had dried. Carl had done the walks along the corridors, and he’d cheekily grinned and pulled faces into the cameras as he passed them. I’d been too miserable to laugh at him.

  The following morning, the shift ending, I’d left the premises swiftly, with a coffee-stained blouse, tightly buttoned where some remained, and knotted at the bottom. I couldn’t get out of the bu
ilding fast enough. My trousers, luckily black, looked better for wear, albeit still damp. I’d zipped my coat right up, endured a bus ride, paranoid the other passengers could smell the aroma of eau-de-Nescafe which followed me everywhere, but at least relieved I would never see Carl again.

  Or so I thought.

  “I thought Matt was on with me tonight?” I said, frowning.

  “He was, but he needed to swap shifts,” Carl said, watching the screens. “I’ll go do the first patrol. You sit tight.” He placed a strong hand on my shoulder as he got up and gave it a squeeze. I wanted to lean into his hand, feel it on my cheek but instead stayed rock solid, resistant.

  He’s not interested in you. It’s your head playing games with you.

  And I wasn’t about to make an idiot of myself for the second week running.

  Left alone to watch the screens, my tension ebbed away as I saw Carl come into the picture and go. Although black and white, and not as crisp as my telly at home, at one point I got a good look at Carl’s backside as he walked away from the camera.

  What a fit bum. Tight, black uniform trousers doing it justice. Solid, muscular thighs, a narrow waist that flared out to broad powerful shoulders …

  And then his face. He had bright blue, dazzling eyes and a cheeky grin. Always closely shaven, not a trace of stubble. His light brown hair was longer than if he’d been in the army, but still short, gelled into a fashionable spiky style. Lips I wanted …

  “Did you miss me?”

  I jumped clean out of my seat. “Bloody hell, Carl, don’t do that to me!”

  “You did miss me.” He was beaming. “Here, I got you a Coke from the vending machine.” He handed me the bottle. “Careful how you open it. I don’t think I can cope with seeing you in your undies twice in a row.”

  “Can you please stop reminding me?”

  “Why?”

  “Because that was the most humiliating thing to happen to me – ever.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes! I think being dumped by Jason Becket at my school dance, in front of all my classmates, was less embarrassing.”

  “The boy was a fool.”

  I frowned. What did he mean? Carl was good at being nice. Another attractive quality. “Well, I know now we were much too young, and yes, I can see he was a git.” I shook my head. Why was I telling him this?

  “Are you seeing anyone?” he asked, so matter-of-factly, I was taken by surprise.

  “What?”

  “Well, you’re at uni now. There must be young men, tongues out and tails wagging, trying to get a sniff of you.”

  “Pardon?”

  “So… you’re single then?”

  “Yes. And sadly, living back home now I’ve decided to go back to university.”

  “Beautiful woman like you, single. Outrageous. Have to change that.”

  Beautiful woman?

  “Carl, did you get a bump on the head or something? Have we had intruders and you’re not telling me?” I looked around. “Hey,” I yelled, sarcastic, cupping my hands around my mouth, my voice echoing around the large room. “Can we please have the real Carl back!”

  He chuckled at me. “I’m being serious, Izzy.”

  “What? You saw me in practically my birthday suit, and … nah.” I pushed my long hair behind my ears, irritated I’d forgotten a band to tie it back. Was he suggesting, what I thought he was? I stood, and my hands trembling, I slid them into my trouser pockets.

  “I’ll go take a look up on the top floor,” I said, and walked off before he could argue.

  I took my time patrolling the fifth floor. Too scared to confront Carl. Surely, after last week, he would’ve been put off. He was probably joking. Or felt sorry for me.

  Unable to hide up there forever, I returned to the security room.

  “I thought you were avoiding me,” he said, teasing, his blue eyes piercing through mine. “What took you so long?”

  “No, I thought I heard something, so had to check it out.”

  “Oh, yeah, I saw.” He frowned, gesturing towards the monitors. “What could possibly be up on the fifth floor?”

  “Nothing.” I smiled.

  “So, you going to let me buy you breakfast after this shift?” Carl flicked out his wrist to look at his watch. “Only a couple of hours to think about it.”

  “Um…”

  “Go on, Izzy. Don’t break my heart. If breakfast goes well, I promise I’ll take you to dinner, too.”

  I swallowed. My chest wanted to burst open with the delight - he wanted to take me out.

  Me.

  He grinned, laying on his charm, his voice thick with persuasion. “Come on, least I can do after last week. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

  Yes. Of course, it’s yes!

  I giggled and nodded, trying to keep a firm reign on what felt like a big kid inside of me, trying to break out and scream with excitement.

  “Alright. Breakfast would be good,” I said, as calmly as possible, all things considered. “Thank you.”

  He leaned towards me, looking from my lips to my eyes, his hand gently stroking my hair from my temple, to behind my ear. My body responded, blood pounding crazily from my toes to my ears. I swallowed. Was he going to kiss me?

  “And – I don’t want you thinking I’m jumping ahead of myself here – but if I do get to peel off your clothes again, I promise to take it slower.”

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  First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013

  Copyright © Teresa Morgan

  Cover Illustrations © shutterstock.com

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