Five Exotic Fantasies: Love in Reverse, Book 3

by Serenity Woods

  She looked into her mug. “I didn’t mean to imply you were. It’s just…I don’t really know you. I hardly know anything about you.”

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “I want to trust you, especially after what we’ve shared.” She could feel her cheeks reddening, and looked up to see the beginnings of a smile curving his lips. “But we’ve gone about this all wrong, working together and having a relationship. It’s not surprising we’re both wary.”

  “I guess.” He reached out and took her hand again. “I wish it had happened differently. I wish we could have met without the shadow of McAllister Dell hanging over us.”

  “Yeah.” But it was pointless to discuss it, wasn’t it? She couldn’t unravel the past, wave a wand and make the case disappear, turn back the years to before she turned seventeen, before she met Peter and he met Lindsey, and make her and Felix each other’s first love. Life didn’t happen like that. She just had to play the hand she’d been dealt and live with the consequences of the decisions she’d made.

  She sat back, suddenly depressed about the whole situation. Why couldn’t things have been different?

  “Okay, so we’ll say Friday for your interview,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  “I have something else to ask you.” His gaze softened and took on a mischievous look.

  “Oh?”

  “Friday is actually my birthday.”

  “Oh!” She smiled.

  “Yeah. I had a call this morning from a good friend of mine, Jean.”

  Coco’s heart missed a beat. A female friend?

  “He’s coming to Wellington on Friday,” Felix continued.

  Now she was confused. “Sorry, he?”

  Felix stared, then grinned. “Ah. That’s G-E-N-E, not J-E-A-N.”

  “Oh.” Relief swept over her. “I see.”

  “Yeah, he gets that all the time. Anyway, he’ll be here Friday with his girlfriend, and he’s organised for my brother, Toby, and his wife to be here, and also you remember me saying I was friends with Faith Hillman and Rusty?”

  “The Seven Sexy Sins couple?”

  “Yes—they’re going to be here too. We’re going to meet up for dinner and…” A smile curved his lips. “I wondered whether you’d like to come along?”

  She frowned. “Do they know about me?”

  He looked shifty. “Maybe.”

  “How on earth have you described me?”

  “Blonde,” he said, and grinned.

  She glared at him. “You know what I mean. How have you described our…?” She tried to think of a word and failed.

  “I haven’t.” He smiled. “I said there’s a girl I might bring along.”

  “And now they’re curious,” she said, reading between the lines.

  “Sort of.”

  She couldn’t squash the little thrill that rose in her at the thought that he wanted her to meet his friends and family. It probably wasn’t sensible, but she might as well make the most of his time in Wellington until he had to go. “Okay, I’ll come.”

  “Good.” He ran a hand through his hair. He’d been nervous about asking her. Aw.

  “We’d better get back,” she said to cover her shyness.

  “I suppose.” He finished off his coffee and they stood and left the coffee shop.

  They walked across to the building. He hesitated outside and she turned to face him.

  “Thanks,” he said, although for what she wasn’t sure. For not resenting the fact that he had to interview her? Or for agreeing to go out with him?

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.” His warm brown eyes caressed her, the sudden, hungry desire in them taking her breath away.

  “You only had me last night,” she scolded, bold under his hot gaze.

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. Longing and regret, desire and wistfulness for more twisted inside her so that for a moment she could barely swallow.

  Without another word, she turned and walked into the building.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Felix spent the rest of Wednesday and most of Thursday interviewing the secretarial staff. The majority of the time, Coco sat with him and Rob, introducing the secretaries to Felix when they came in, putting them at ease and taking notes as the interviews progressed.

  Felix began by informing them that although their statements would be kept within the circle of partners at the firm, he could not guarantee to keep them confidential if they contained information important to the case. He asked whether they were aware of the situation between Sasha and Peter Dell—had they been in the office when it happened or had they already gone home? He asked what Sasha’s behaviour had been like the few days after—had she seemed upset, stressed or angry? Had she talked to any of them about what had happened? He questioned them about Sasha’s behaviour in general—what did they think of her as a person, did they like her? What did they know about her social life? And then he asked them about Dell—did the senior partner flirt with them? Had he ever made advances—acceptable or unacceptable—toward them? Did they believe Sasha’s claim was true?

  Time and again, the answers came back the same. All but one of the secretaries had gone home by the time the incident was alleged to have occurred on the day in question. Sasha’s behaviour had not really changed following the incident—she was always sullen and kept herself to herself, and she’d been much the same afterward, perhaps a little moodier. None of Sasha’s colleagues knew anything of note about her. They knew she lived just out of town, that she was single, that she had a cat. Not one mentioned she was gay, and Felix didn’t ask, feeling it wasn’t his place to break her confidence. None of them really liked her, although they couldn’t put a finger on why—just that she refused to join in, even though they asked her out with them, and that she made no effort to be friends, choosing to eat her lunch in solitude, her head stuck in a book and discouraging any attempt at conversation.

  The one secretary who’d stayed late the night of the alleged incident stated that she caught a glimpse of Sasha in the elevator. The secretary had been walking toward her and asked Sasha to hold the doors, but Sasha had let them shut, even though she’d clearly seen and heard the other secretary. Sasha had been crying, the secretary said, and her cheeks had been red, but that was all she could remember.

  Their answers had been frustratingly unhelpful, and left him as much in the dark about Sasha as when he started.

  His questions regarding Dell, however, proved more entertaining. Two of the fifteen secretaries he interviewed admitted to having had an affair with Dell in the past. And Felix was pretty sure at least another two had as well, although they were too nervous to say so, perhaps for fear of losing their jobs. Most of the other secretaries knew of at least one person who Dell had had an affair with.

  The two who’d admitted it had similar stories. Dell had flirted with them, flattered them, persisted with his attentions until—certain he was crazy about them—they gave in and slept with him. The affairs lasted several weeks before Dell lost interest and moved on. Both women had looked hurt by his callous disregard of them, but they explained that because they’d entered into the relationship willingly, they felt there was nothing they could do. He was a philandering pig, one said, and there was no cure for that.

  By the end of the interviews on Thursday, Felix felt no closer to finding an answer than he had the moment he arrived. Dell was clearly a womaniser who saw nothing wrong in having affairs with the women he worked with. But to be fair to the guy, if Sasha was removed from the equation, there was nothing legally wrong with his behaviour. Certainly all the other women he’d seduced appeared to have welcomed his advances, and there’d been no question of rape so far. Although he would probably have used his position of authority to impress women, it didn’t sound as if he’d used it to blackmail them into affairs by threatening their jobs if they didn’t—again, di
scounting Sasha’s accusations.

  No, the reason Felix disliked Dell was based not on legal but on moral objections. The man had cheated numerous times on the woman he’d promised to love, “forsaking all others”. That, together with his apparent assumption that the secretarial staff were there for his personal entertainment, revolted Felix and made him want to punch Dell’s teeth down his throat. But equally, if Dell asked the women out and the women said yes knowing perfectly well he was married and had had other affairs, who was Felix to cast Dell as the bad guy in this case? And, most importantly, just because Dell had slept with God knew how many other women, that didn’t necessarily mean he’d made unwanted advances to Sasha. Perhaps she had been the one to initiate it, and he’d turned her down because it was the chase that turned him on and she’d been too pushy. Hell hath no fury, and all that.

  After the final secretary left, Rob went out to get a coffee, and Felix rose and stood by the window, looking down at the harbour with his hands behind his back, conscious of Coco watching him. He felt uneasy about the whole case, finding the women’s stories a little too close to his own situation for his liking. After all, wasn’t that what he and Coco were doing? They’d found each other mutually attractive and had come together for some hot sex. They both knew it could only be temporary, and even though he liked to think they’d talked a lot more than Dell and his conquests, they didn’t really know much about each other at all. Could he be a hundred percent certain that she hadn’t slept with half the men in the office? He was sure that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t be certain. She’d jumped into bed with him pretty quickly, after all.

  She’d been very quiet during the interviews, ramrod straight in her chair, her posture almost disapproving, and for the first time he wondered whether maybe she’d had an affair with Dell. He couldn’t understand it at all, but the senior partner obviously held a strange fascination for women. Had she succumbed to his advances?

  Something touched his arm and he looked around to see Coco standing beside him, looking down at the harbour. She said nothing, and for a moment they both just watched the seagulls floating above the waves as if suspended on wires, the tips of the choppy sea lined with white.

  “You’re agitated,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

  He looked across at her. “What makes you say that?”

  “You keep running your hand through your hair. You only do that when you’re upset or nervous about something.”

  He gave a wry smile at that. “Oh really?”

  She turned to face him. “Are you thinking that what we’re doing is the same as what Dell did with those secretaries?”

  He couldn’t stop his eyebrows rising and his eyes widening with surprise. “How did you know that?”

  “It’s written all over your face and in your body language. What we are doing is not the same as what Dell did with those women.” Her voice was vehement, her eyes hard. She didn’t want it to be the same. That didn’t mean it wasn’t.

  Then he met her gaze, saw the anxiety deep in her eyes, and affection swept over him. She was thinking exactly the same and had the same fear as he—that he was just using her, that he saw her as an object, and had no feelings for her at all.

  How could he explain to her that was completely not the case? That he was starting to panic because he did have feelings for her, strong feelings, and that wasn’t good news when he had to return to Auckland after the weekend?

  He stared into her eyes, wishing he could voice his emotions but knowing to do so would be pointless and just make it harder when he eventually had to leave. They had to pretend this was just fun, otherwise they were going to dig themselves deeper into this hole and make it completely impossible for themselves to climb out without getting badly hurt.

  Still, he needed to show her how he felt. After casting a quick glance at the door to make sure Rob hadn’t returned, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers in a brief but sweet kiss.

  When he pulled back, the hardness had vanished from her eyes and her whole countenance had softened.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, clutching the clipboard she was holding to her chest like a shield. “This whole case has just got to me.”

  “Me too,” he admitted.

  “I know what we’re doing has complicated matters, and I’m sorry for that. I don’t like the thought of making things more difficult for you.”

  He couldn’t deny her statement because it was true, but still, he didn’t want her to think that he wished they hadn’t slept together.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s clarifying things for me as well, in a strange way. I’ve always considered myself an advocate for equality between the sexes and I supposed I believed women needed my help and support, but that in itself is patronising in a way. In the past I would have assumed those women that Dell had an affair with had been coerced into it somehow, but the experiences you’ve shared with me have shown me that sometimes there are other factors at play, and that women like sex and are happy to indulge in a purely sexual relationship as well as men. I don’t know that I really believed that up until now.”

  She looked down at the harbour. “I think that’s true. But I would imagine—although obviously I can’t speak for everyone—that for women sex is still mostly about feeling desirable, about being wanted. We all love to be loved, after all.”

  She looked back up, her green eyes glittering beneath her glasses.

  He glanced up at the clock. It was five past five.

  He smiled. “Time to clock off.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

  He could hear Rob’s footsteps approaching. “I’ll pick you up at six.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Wear a skirt.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Coco hovered by the living room window, waiting for the taxi, and nibbled her fingernails. What did Felix have planned for tonight? She had no idea and couldn’t remember what fantasies she’d mentioned to him the night they’d first visited the bar. Wear a skirt, he’d said—why was that? Easy access? Her heart pounded at the thought. Dear God. What was he going to do to her?

  “Where are you going?” Eleanor wheeled herself into the living room.

  Coco turned, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure. He likes to surprise me.” And that was the understatement of the year.

  Eleanor smiled. “He seems like such a nice young man. He obviously cares about you if he goes to all this trouble to arrange these evenings out for you.”

  Coco looked back out of the window. It had been such a strange conversation she’d had with him in the office, after he’d finished interviewing the secretaries. It had been a stressful day, for her at any rate, sitting there and listening to the women who’d admitted having an affair with Peter Dell. She’d curled up inside with shame at her sex, only to then grow angry with herself, because wasn’t she doing exactly the same thing with Felix?

  But she wasn’t going to think about it tonight. She’d left Veronica Stark at the office, and deliberately taken the time to dress as Coco, donning a calf-length, flowing, summery blue skirt and a pretty blue blouse, and she wore her hair down, the sides plaited and joined at the back like a medieval princess. She knew he liked her hair—he liked to thread his hands through it, and she’d caught him curling it around his fingers after they’d made love, admiring the colour. She wanted to please him—she wanted him to look at her with that light in his eyes that made her heart beat faster. It wasn’t just about sex.

  A taxi drew up outside, and she turned, kissed her mother on the cheek, shouted goodbye to Frances who was making tea in the kitchen, and opened the door just as Felix rang the bell.

  “Hey,” she said, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

  “Hey.” He ran his gaze down her, then slowly back up. And there it was—that light in his eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. “You look fantastic,” he murmured, and leaned forward to press his lips against hers
.

  “You too.” It was the truth—he wore a pair of Levi Mechanic 501s, a white T-shirt and a casual black jacket, and he looked good enough to eat. Ooh, there’s an idea…

  He smiled and took her hand. “Ready?”

  She nodded and followed him along the path to the taxi. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a secret.” He grinned at her and opened the door so she could get in, then went around the other side and climbed in beside her. The taxi set off, so he’d obviously already instructed the driver where to go.

  She nodded toward the backpack that sat on the floor by his feet. “What’s in that?”

  He tapped the side of his nose, and she rolled her eyes. He laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  The taxi threaded through the city, and she felt a wave of satisfaction at the thought of being with this man, enjoying his company, with the evening stretching out before them, hopefully ending in some good sex. “It’s a nice evening,” she said, looking out of the window up at the sky. “I think summer’s on its way.”

  “Yes,” he said with some relief. “We might have been in trouble if it had been raining.” Refusing to elaborate, he started talking about a review he’d read on the movie they’d seen at the Empire, and she had to content herself with enjoying the feeling of anticipation at what lay ahead.

  Before long the taxi pulled up. To Coco’s surprise, they were outside the entrance to the Wellington Cable Car. Her eyebrows rose. “Where are we going—to the Botanic Gardens?”

  Felix paid the driver and got out, and she followed him, taking his hand as he offered it. He nodded happily and gestured to the bag on his back. “I’ve packed a picnic. I thought we could find a nice private spot in the gardens somewhere.”

  “A picnic?” Warmth filled her. “Oh, what a nice idea.”

  They went into the building and Felix bought the tickets, and before long they were in a cable car climbing the hills of Wellington.

  “I haven’t done this for years,” Coco said.

  “I’ve never been on it,” Felix said, taking her hand. “I haven’t been to Wellington much at all really—when I was younger we tended to go to Auckland if we wanted to go shopping or to a show or something.”