Mr One-Night Stand

by Rachael Stewart

  ‘Sorry, I should’ve knocked properly—should’ve waited. I shouldn’t... I just didn’t expect... Well, I didn’t think you’d be so...naked,’ she babbled, standing at the doorway to his office, needing to move through it yet finding herself rooted.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in yet.’

  She bit into her bottom lip. She could hear him moving behind her, and the urge to look was driving her crazy. Just one glance...

  ‘Granted, having seen the news this morning, I should’ve expected you to be.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ It was all that could come out, and was high-pitched as it was. She should leave him to get dressed. Their conversation could wait that long, at least. She moved away from the door. ‘I’ll just—’

  ‘Did you see what the press are saying about it?’ He talked over her, and his tone and topic drew her in.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Take a look at this.’

  Her eyes wavered between the doorway and him, without truly focusing on either. She needed to get past this. She was the one who had said no more sex, but, Christ, she’d hardly expected to find him half naked...again.

  Forcing herself, she turned and headed to where he was bent over his desk, one hand hovering over his trackpad, one finger pointing at the screen.

  She fixed her gaze on where his finger rested, doing her damnedest to ignore the steamy male scent and the inviting warmth radiating off him.

  She planted her hands on the cold glass desktop and read. And then she read some more. But the words weren’t going in. She couldn’t set her focus, her head going dizzy with his appeal.

  He straightened on a sigh, and she caught sight of his chest flexing as he did so, which sent desire climbing up her throat.

  He was less than an arm’s reach away. Why couldn’t she just give in?

  And then came the painful retort—He can’t love you back—and she almost choked with it.

  Love? Was that where she was at?

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

  ‘Think...?’ Get with it, Jennifer.

  She swallowed and he coughed. She glanced at him and caught a brief sweep of his tensed muscles, his heated gaze, and knew he wanted her.

  But he doesn’t want more.

  It served to up her resolve. ‘I have some ideas.’

  ‘Ideas?’

  ‘Yes.’ Pulling her plait over her shoulder, she righted herself and turned to face him fully. ‘Why don’t you get dressed and join me in my office?’

  He brushed a hand over his hair, sweeping the damp curls away from his face and she almost snapped, almost reached up to repeat his exact move.

  She fisted her hands at her sides. ‘Unless you want to do this half-naked?’

  He gave her a lop-sided grin. ‘I will if you will!’

  ‘Marcus.’ She whirled away and threw her hands in the air, her sexual frustration and teetering resolve sending her storming for the door. ‘My office—when you’ve bothered to put some clothes on.’

  He would have laughed if he hadn’t been working so damn hard to appear normal.

  Seeing her, knowing now how he felt, had intensified every sensation. When he’d heard her say his name his heart had ballooned, cutting off his ability to breathe. And then he’d seen her, his eyes devouring every last inch of her, and his towel had been lucky to stay steady.

  It was fortunate that he hadn’t just kissed the look of shock right off her face. The hint of lip gloss glistening on her otherwise innocently bare features had pleaded with him to do as much. Her woven hair, still wet, told of a recent shower, and the thought of her in it, naked and slick, had teased him senseless.

  And if someone had told him he’d find a polo neck and trousers sexy he would’ve laughed them out of the room.

  In the bathroom he hit the cold tap, turning it on full, and doused his face, trying to send a message to the searing burn making camp in his gut.

  The thing was, if it was just that—desire—then he would be able to cope. He knew he would. It was the fact it was so much more than desire now. Seeing her and knowing that left him all kinds of vulnerable, and it was chewing him up inside.

  He’d barely slept the night before, battling with it all, the risk weighing heavy on him. But he couldn’t carry on like this. He knew that now. He just had to work out how to broach the subject and not send her running for the hills with his turnaround.

  He raked the towel over himself and got dressed, prepping his mind for the topic at hand—the competitor’s product launch. They would deal with that and then he would make sense of the rest.

  He found her at her desk, scribbling furiously on her notepad. The professional Jennifer he had come to know so well was in full swing. She was every bit the businesswoman he had come to respect above all others, her brain working like no one else’s he knew, piecing things together even quicker than him—and that, frankly, was saying something.

  ‘I see you really do have some ideas.’

  She glanced up, her eyes bright with excitement.

  ‘I do—check this out.’

  She beckoned him over, moving so she could stand directly behind her and could read what she was working on.

  ‘I think our product is better,’ she said. ‘I’ve taken a look at what they’re offering and ours outstrips it by far.’

  ‘Okay...’ he said, his hands sinking forcibly into his pockets.

  ‘I told you it was a good idea to merge product specifications!’

  She was ribbing him, but all he felt was pride blooming. He had the crazy urge to pull her into his arms and tell her as much.

  ‘So, I reckon the best solution,’ she continued, ‘is to have a red carpet affair for our launch and do it now.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Well, not literally—but certainly within the next week or two, hot on the back of this. I think I can pull a few strings, get some big names in the business to attend, bring in the press, and it’ll bury this morning’s news.’

  He chuckled. ‘Remind me never to get on your bad side.’

  She smiled up at him, her expression unreadable. ‘Our product is better,’ she stressed. ‘It deserves to be treated as such.’

  ‘No arguments here.’

  Her eyes went back to the page and she traced her index finger down the list she’d created. ‘These are my first thoughts on guests, location, theme, catering and—’

  The trill of his phone interrupted, but it was a while before he even registered it because he was so lost in her and what she was saying.

  ‘Do you want to get that?’

  Her question brought with it his senses. Of course he should get it. Someone ringing at this hour had to be important. He slid his phone out of his pocket and checked the ID. Gran.

  He stared at it, a thread of unease coiling steadily up his spine.

  ‘Who is it?’

  He could hear the concern in her voice. She was so astute.

  ‘It’s my grandmother.’ Or would it be Pops again?

  He knew he needed to answer but his fingers were frozen around the phone. If he didn’t answer, whatever news was coming wouldn’t be real...

  Christ, don’t be ridiculous!

  Next to him, Jennifer stood and placed a hand on his arm. ‘Would you like me to step out?’

  The comfort of her touch radiated through the ice and his fingers came alive. ‘No.’

  She nodded and he answered the call, lifting the phone to his ear. ‘Gran?’

  ‘Marcus.’

  ‘Pops?’ It came out gruff, unrecognisable even to his own ears.

  ‘She’s been rushed in—’

  His grandfather broke off and Marcus felt as if someone had a noose around his neck, was pulling it tight, his very life being squeezed out of him.

  He needed to spea
k, but the words weren’t coming. He shut his eyes, then opened them to seek out Jennifer, and she was there, her own eyes shining with an emotion that he knew mirrored his own.

  He burned to reach for her but didn’t dare. And then she was doing it—slipping her arms around him, tucking her head beneath his chin, and his breath was freed up, leaving him in a rush.

  Thank you, he wanted to say. But his free arm closed around her instead, taking the strength she offered, the comfort, the love... If only.

  His grandfather coughed. ‘Sorry, son.’

  ‘It’s okay, Pops, tell me what’s happened?’

  He heard him take a shaky breath and then he was rambling—something about another stroke, her being in critical care, the doctor’s current assessment...

  It was all coming at him in a blur, but he knew he needed to get moving—he needed to be there now.

  ‘Okay, Pops, listen.’ The words came out controlled, and for that he was grateful. He wanted to reassure him, no matter what was going on inside himself. His grandfather needed his strength. ‘I can be with you in a few hours. I’ll check flights or I’ll drive. Either way I’ll be with you by lunchtime.’

  His grandfather let go of another shaky breath, ‘Thank you, son.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  Marcus cut the call and sucked in some much-needed air, feeling Jennifer tighten her arms around him as he let it out.

  ‘How bad is it?’ she asked softly.

  ‘She’s in critical care,’ he said, his skin prickling as his gut rolled. ‘Another stroke.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Marcus.’

  She lifted her head off his chest to look up at him, and there was so much compassion in her gaze that he could almost—almost—believe she loved him too. That there was already so much more between them.

  He searched her face, wanting to ask, wanting to confess.

  ‘Go now,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the launch finalised, and if you can’t make it, it doesn’t matter.’

  He nodded, knowing she spoke sense but feeling rooted to the spot, rooted to her.

  ‘And if you can make it, all you need to do is turn up and do what you do best—schmooze.’

  ‘Schmooze?’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Is that all I’m good for?’

  ‘Maybe...’ she teased gently.

  God, he wanted to keep hold of her, take her with him. The weirdest feeling took hold—that nothing could hurt too deeply if she was near.

  ‘Go on, Marcus, be there for your family.’ She stepped back and paused, her eyes flickering, and then she swept her arms around him once more, raising herself up to say against his ear, ‘Know that I am here for you if you need me.’

  She turned into him, her lips pressing softly into his cheek, and the world stopped, warmth flooding him as his love for her swelled.

  And then she was gone, dropping back as a shutter fell over her expression, wrapping her arms around her middle. ‘Let me know when you get there safely?’

  ‘I will.’

  He had to fight not to pull her back, to make her kiss much more than a peck, but the moment was so special, so right, he didn’t want to break it.

  Slipping his phone into his pocket, he headed for the door, pausing on the threshold to give her one last look. ‘Thank you.’

  And then he left, with the chill resurfacing, increasing with every step he took away from her.

  * * *

  Jennifer watched him go, her insides trembling as she fought the desire to follow.

  He’d needed her—she’d seen it in him. She didn’t know what it meant but it had called to her. It still did. It had been emotional rather than physical, and had he said Come with me she knew beyond a doubt that she would have gone.

  But he hadn’t, and she hadn’t expected him to—not really. So she would help in the one way she knew how: she would keep on top of work and make sure he wasn’t disturbed. She would field his calls, organise the best product launch he’d ever seen, and work every waking moment.

  She knew she wasn’t being entirely selfless, that it would help her too—because being awake and busy meant not thinking about the mess her heart had become. And, no matter what she’d seen in him today, it didn’t negate what he had said to her previously.

  She’d come so close to blurting I love you—had felt it on the tip of her tongue as she’d drowned in his agonised gaze. The only thing to stop it had been the memory of his obvious horror when she’d hinted at wanting more in the alley.

  But for the briefest moment she’d believed he felt it too, that something had changed between them.

  Was it too much to hope for?

  The fear-filled flutter in her belly kick-started and she pushed her mind to work.

  Concentrate on something you’re good at—something you can control...something that doesn’t ache as if it’s never going to stop...

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  WHEN HE CLIMBED into bed that night, absolutely wiped out, he expected sleep to come quickly. He should’ve known better. As soon as his head hit the pillow his thoughts turned to Jennifer.

  He smiled as he remembered his grandmother’s face when he’d told her about Jennifer. His intention had been to distract her from the tubes and the machines beeping around them; what he’d got had been a lecture.

  ‘Don’t let this woman slip through your fingers,’ she’d told him. ‘If you don’t try you’ll wonder forever, and life’s far too short for that.’

  Having those words uttered in a hospital, in a building so full of loss, his own deep-rooted argument had collided with hers. Yes, you could have a long and happy life together, just as his grandparents had proved, or by some mean twist of fate it could be taken away from you far too early, like his parents.

  But the idea of not trying for the former, of letting Jennifer go, was agony in itself.

  He rolled over and picked up his mobile from the bedside table. Propping himself up on his elbow, he scanned his messages. He’d had several from her throughout the day. They’d all contained work updates, but he’d sensed her intention had really been to check on him. The fact that she cared was obvious and it gave him hope.

  Another message came through.

  How’s your gran?

  Doing well, all things considered.

  Thank goodness. And you?

  Missing you. He wanted to type it so badly, but not yet. It wasn’t right.

  I’m okay. You should get some sleep.

  Yes, boss.

  His smile grew.

  Night.

  Night. x

  The ‘x’ heated him through, and without thinking he sent a simple ‘x’ back.

  He stared at it, at the harmless letter glowing and pulsing at him from her message to him.

  Hope swelled.

  * * *

  He stayed just over a week—until the day of the launch...until he was certain his grandmother was going to be okay.

  He stopped by the hospital on his way home. The beeping machines were thankfully long gone, and his grandmother’s new private room was cosy, with splashes of yellow, and the flowers he’d brought her lit up the window ledge.

  ‘You’re stubborn, my boy—remember that.’ She positively beamed up at him. ‘Don’t you be taking no for an answer.’

  He chuckled and bent to press a kiss to her brow. ‘I’ll try not to. But she can be rather stubborn too.’

  ‘Good—I like a girl with a bit of backbone.’

  ‘Oh, I have no doubt you’ll like her.’

  ‘Well, make sure you bring her home soon, so we can see for ourselves.’ Sadness swept across her features. ‘I often worried that you would never settle...that somehow your past had seen to that.’

  ‘Hey, easy, Gran.’ He placed a hand over hers. ‘It just took me a while, that’s all.’

/>   She nodded, her eyes glittering with a smile, and his throat tightened.

  ‘We understood why you didn’t come home much. We knew how hard it was for you to keep coming back here.’

  ‘Don’t make excuses for me.’ He squeezed her palm. ‘I should’ve come back more. I was being selfish—foolish, even.’

  ‘It’s not foolish to want to avoid those memories.’ She took a shaky breath. ‘Nonetheless, the past is the past, darling. You can’t change it, but you shouldn’t let it taint your future either.’

  ‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘I get that now.’

  ‘Aren’t you done lecturing the boy yet, Angie?’

  His grandfather’s booming Welsh lilt invaded the room as he joined them, a fresh bouquet in his arms.

  ‘I don’t lecture,’ his grandmother bristled.

  ‘Whatever you say, dear.’ He smiled and bowed down to plant a kiss upon her forehead, adding with a wink, ‘The important thing is, did it work?’

  She returned his smile, happiness filling her cheeks with colour. ‘How could you ever doubt me?’

  His grandfather chuckled and looked to Marcus, his gaze warm and hopeful. ‘You finally ready to stop running and start living?’

  Marcus grinned, loving their interchange, and loving the whole promise life suddenly held. ‘You’d better believe it, Pops.’

  ‘Diolch i’r Arglwydd.’

  His grandfather pounded him jovially on the back, back to his best now that Gran was on the mend.

  ‘So what are you waiting for? Be off with you and bring us back a granddaughter-in-law.’

  ‘I’ll do my damnedest.’

  ‘Language!’ came his grandmother’s warning.

  He exchanged a look with his grandfather and they both erupted with laughter.

  ‘He has you to thank for that, Angie.’

  She gave an exaggerated huff. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Whatever, Gran,’ he teased. ‘I’ll see you both soon—very soon.’

  And he would. He could say it and mean it now.

  * * *

  Over a week had gone by in a crazy, manic blur. During the week Jennifer had thrown herself into work, and at the weekend she’d thrown herself into her family. But in between she’d thought of him.