by Nikki Ashton
‘It seems to be doing really well. Why Ziggy’s, by the way?’
‘Ziggy Stardust,’ he replied as if I should have known. ‘Henry and I are both David Bowie freaks. Have to admit we both shed a tear when he died.’
While I kind of wanted to laugh at that, Roman’s face was so serious that I didn’t.
‘Well, it’s a great club; Emma and I love it,’ I replied, making Roman’s smile reappear.
‘So how long have you been friends with Emma?’ he asked.
I continued to tell him all about my friendship with Emma and regale him with stories of my family. He laughed a lot and asked numerous questions, and it was absolutely perfect.
‘Can I ask you something now?’ I asked, playing with the stem of my glass.
I wasn’t sure that I should, but we were getting along, and he wanted to know things about me, so why shouldn’t I get to know him too? It was something that I’d been wondering about, I’d had a couple of glasses of wine, and my lips were loose.
‘Oh dear, am I going to hate this question?’
Roman sat back in his chair, throwing his napkin onto the table.
‘I don’t know,’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t see why you would. But, you don’t have to answer.’
Deep down, I hoped he would because I needed to know if I was hoping for something that would never happen.
‘Go on.’
‘How do you know Caroline? Is she an ex-girlfriend?’
Roman was silent for a few seconds, his eyes firmly set on my face. I swallowed, wishing I’d not asked, as he clearly didn’t want to answer.
‘No, she’s not,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘She the girlfriend of a friend of mine. Well, he’s dead now, but that’s how I know her.’
His eyes were downcast, and his voice quiet, so while I wanted to feel some relief—that she was nothing more than the girlfriend of a friend—I had to wonder if he wished that there was more to it.
‘Oh, I’m sorry your friend died,’ I replied, feeling like a total idiot.
I let out a sigh and resigned myself to the fact that this would probably be a first and last date. I was too damn nosey, and he appeared to be hung up on someone else.
‘You don’t need to be sorry, Summer.’ He said it so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. ‘It was a long time ago.’
I had no idea what to say, Roman looked so desolate, and I wanted to hug him, but that would just be weird on a first and last date. I took another sip of my wine instead, and tried to think of ways of avoiding him in the office until I could get a new job. Then I felt stupid, because he’d never said it was a date, only an apology for being horrible to me.
‘This has been lovely, Roman,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘Thank you, and consider yourself forgiven.’
‘You’re letting me off the hook that easily?’ he asked, a smile now lighting up his face.
‘Well, you don’t want to have to keep buying me expensive meals, do you? Next time I think you’re being mean, I’ll force you to buy me a cream cake or something.’
‘Really.’ Roman was now grinning widely, and his brows were arched. ‘You’d be happy with just a cream cake?’
‘Yes, of course. I’m not a high- maintenance PA, who’d expect an expensive meal every time you lost your temper with me for no reason. Let’s face it, you’d be bankrupt by the end of the month.’
Roman nodded slowly and reached across the table for my hand that was still playing with my wine glass.
‘So, you think that this was simply an apology for being a mean boss?’
As his fingers wrapped around mine, my mouth suddenly felt dry and I couldn’t form any words. His dark, smouldering eyes were drinking me in, as though I was the most desirable woman he’d ever seen. While his thumb rubbed slow circles on my wrist, I could feel the excited throb between my legs.
‘That’s what you said,’ I replied, around a swallow.
Roman’s eyes darkened further as he leaned closer to me.
‘I think you’ll also remember that I said I was very attracted to you,’ he said, in a low voice, ‘and have been since the first time I saw you in my accountant’s office, and have become more attracted to you since that kiss. While I know that this could go royally tits up, Summer, I’d still like to try and see where it goes, because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is too short.’
As Roman’s thumb continued stroking my wrist, I felt every nerve in my body pulsate, but nothing pulsated more than my fandango—okay, so Emma’s issues about the nouns for the reproductive organs may have rubbed off on me!
‘Are you okay with that?’ Roman asked again.
I swallowed and nodded.
‘Good. Now drink your coffee because I’m taking you dancing.’
I gave a sharp intake of breath, snatched up my coffee cup, and drank it back in one go, ignoring the burn it caused in my throat because the anticipation of going dancing with Roman was far more overwhelming
‘Good morning.’
I shivered as Roman’s breath ghosted against my neck as he whispered against my ear.
‘Hey,’ I sighed. I turned in my chair and gave him what I hoped was a brilliant smile.
My heart was racing being so close to him, and I was sure that he knew exactly what he did to me. The cocky little grin told me he did.
Friday night had been amazing, and I’d had the best time. After Bennett’s, Roman had taken us to a Salsa club in Manchester, where we’d danced for hours. We hadn’t got there until late, and I was sure we wouldn’t be allowed in, but Roman told me he’d checked it out on the Internet and it stayed open until four in the morning. And we danced until the place closed. We weren’t very good at it, and spent most of our time crying with laughter, but were having too much fun to care. When it came time to leave, we almost had the hang of it. We did, however, get the hang of kissing each other—more than mastering it in fact. Just thinking about the way Roman threaded his hands in my hair, or cradled my face while he kissed me, had me feeling hot. It had been the perfect first date.
‘Would it be a bit girly of me to say I missed you over the weekend?’ he asked, caging me in with his hands on the arms of my chair.
I sucked in my bottom lip and shook my head. Seriously, if he didn’t move I was going to do something stupid: deliciously sexy, but stupid.
‘Well, I did. I missed you and your smell.’ He moved closer and breathed in deeply. ‘Do you know I actually went to a department store and sniffed every fucking bottle of perfume until I found the one that drove me crazy every day, the one that you wear, the one that I bought for you?’
I felt as though I was going to collapse from the vapours: the only word for him was ‘swoony’.
He then lowered his head and kissed me. His lips were soft and gentle as I opened my mouth for him, and my tongue searched for his. As his hand came into my hair, I let out a moan and pushed forward in my chair, gripping onto Roman’s hand that remained on the arm of the chair. He bit lightly on my bottom lip before gently pulling away, and dropping a sweet kiss to my cheek.
‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ he groaned.
I gasped and looked at him warily, until a huge smile lit up his face.
‘If someone comes in, Summer, it’s not going to look good is it?’ he said, pointing down to his trousers that were showing a definite bulge.
I started to laugh and pushed at his shoulder.
‘Get into your office and sort yourself out.’
‘Seriously,’ he cried. ‘You want me to jack off in my office?’
‘No!’ I gasped. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it. Just go and do something with it … I don’t know, go and think of something less exciting.’
Roman chuckled, and with another quick kiss to my lips, went through to his office, leaving the door ajar.
‘I’m going to bang one out now, Summer,’ he called.
‘Okay, Roman,’ I replied, with a giggle. ‘Let me know when you’ve
finished and I’ll bring you a coffee.’
His deep laugh was the only response I got, but it made me smile.
As I carried on reading my emails, and getting my heart pattern back to normal, the phone rang. I snatched it up.
‘Hello, Roman Hepburn’s office,’ I answered breathily.
‘Summer, it’s Alan Cromwell. Put him on.’
His response was short and curt, but at least he’d eventually decided to call. Roman had been waiting for days for him to ring about the quotation.
‘Roman,’ I said as he picked up his line. ’Alan Cromwell.’
He breathed a sigh of relief on the other end. ‘Finally. Thanks, Summer, put him through.’
Unfortunately, a little over ten minutes later I found out that Roman’s relief at Mr. Cromwell calling was totally misplaced.
‘The fucking bastard,’ Roman roared as he slammed out of his office.
‘What’s happened?’ I stood up and went to him, mainly to try and stop him wearing a furrow in the carpet.
‘He’s given the job to someone else. Whoever it is has undercut me by almost ten grand.’
My mouth dropped open. ‘They can’t, surely? I know how tight those margins were.’
‘Yeah, well, they have. They must be using some shit materials to undercut us by that much, that’s all I can say.’
‘Can’t you look at the figures again?’
As soon as I asked the question, the way Roman’s lip curled made me wish I hadn’t. It was a stupid thing to say. No way would Roman cut back on quality just to get a job, and, as I’d already pointed out, his profit would be pretty slim as it was. Thankfully, it appeared that Roman was already starting to try and avoid the need to buy cream cakes—he simply shook his head.
After a couple more minutes of pacing, Roman flopped down on to a chair and dropped his head back.
‘I don’t get it,’ he said still staring at the ceiling. ‘How the hell can they do it so cheaply? There are some materials that will have to be shipped over, plus the labour costs over there are higher. I’d love to know who got the damn job so I can ask them how they worked their figures out.’
‘I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry.’ I took Roman’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘How bad is it?’
He lifted his head and looked at me, looking utterly defeated. ‘Really bad if we don’t get The Palisades moving soon.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked, pretty sure that there wasn’t.
Without any words, Roman pulled me onto his knee and then hugged me tightly to his chest. Evidently my hugs helped.
It had been a week since Alan Cromwell had dropped his bombshell and Roman was gradually getting more and more stressed. He’d asked around all his contacts, but no one knew who Mr. Cromwell had given the work to.
‘The building world isn’t that big,’ Roman groaned. ‘I know people all over the damn country, how can no one know who got the job?’
‘I don’t know.’ I bit at my lip wondering what on earth I could do or say to help him. ‘Do you think they’re keeping it from you, or they just don’t know?’
Roman shrugged and walked over to the sink. He turned on the tap and filled a glass with water, before knocking it back in two gulps.
We’d worked late and then gone over to Roman’s house, having eaten a Chinese take-away. I say we’d eaten it, but Roman merely pushed his food around the plate. He tried to look interested in whatever drivel I could think of to talk about to try and distract him, but the smiles and nods weren’t fooling me. His head was full of the business, and how he was going to turn things around.
The Palisades still wasn’t moving: the new planning officer appeared to be as obstructive as the previous one. He had refused Roman’s idea of flipping the plan until he was convinced there were no protected birds anywhere in the vicinity, never mind where the nest had been found. On reading the letter telling him this, Roman had stormed down to the council offices and sat outside Geoff Williams’s office until he came out for his lunch. Roman then cornered him and demanded a meeting there and then. Unfortunately, Mr. Williams didn’t have any good news to impart. Apparently some ornithology specialists were coming from Cambridge University to study the nest. He wasn’t willing to allow work to start again until he was positive that it was actually abandoned. Rather than put Roman’s mind at rest, it sent him into a major tailspin, wanting to know why it had taken almost five weeks for the experts to be called in. When he arrived back at the office, I was really concerned that he might have committed murder, he was so angry. Thankfully he assured me that he’d left Mr. Williams in one piece—minus the use of a few auditory nerve endings.
‘Do you want me to go home?’ I asked, placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder.
He turned his face to me, gave me a small smile and put his hand on top of mine. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been shit company tonight.’
‘It’s understandable.’
I moved closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. My hand moved from his shoulder and I brushed the hair from his forehead. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and he looked exhausted from spending all hours worrying about the business. I stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips softly.
‘You need to get some sleep,’ I whispered.
Roman’s arms snaked around my waist and pulled me tighter against him.
‘Stay.’ It wasn’t a question or a command: it was a plea.
I wasn’t a nervous virgin, and I certainly wasn’t a girl like Emma, who insisted on the five-date rule before sleeping with someone, but the thought of staying the night scared me. It scared me because being with Roman meant something to me. He meant something to me. It was nerve-wracking enough him being my boss, which meant part of me wasn’t able to relax into the relationship in case it went wrong, ultimately affecting my job.
‘Roman, you really need to get some rest,’ I protested.
‘I don’t, Summer,’ he whispered. ‘I need you.’
He pulled me into his arms and started to kiss me, softly and slowly.
‘Oh God, Roman. Is this a good idea?’ I gasped as Roman’s lips kissed down my neck. ‘I mean, you’re my boss and—oh shit!’
Roman groaned as his hands gripped my waist and pulled me closer to him. His erection was definitely evident in his trousers, and, as it brushed against me, my fandango did a little dance—quite possibly a fandango.
‘At this moment, Summer, I couldn’t give a damn about whether this is a good idea or not.’ He nipped at my earlobe as his hands snaked up my back and into my hair, gripping it tightly.
‘What happens if ..?’
‘No thinking about ‘if,’’ Roman said in between hot, delicious kisses. ‘Just think about now.’
Thinking about ‘now’ and how turned on I was feeling, I dragged my hands up Roman’s back, taking his shirt with me. My nails dug into his hard muscles making him quiver beneath my touch. My heart beat rapidly at the thought that I could do that to him. I could make Roman shiver with desire, and it made me feel gloriously confident.
‘I need you, Summer,’ Roman whispered against the swell of my boobs. ‘But this won’t happen if you’re not ready.’
I almost laughed in his face. Not ready? He had to be joking. I was so ready that if touched me in just the right place, I’d go off like a rocket. A very loud rocket at that!
‘I’m just worried,’ I gasped, as he gently nibbled at my neck.
‘What are you worried about?’ he said huskily, in between kisses and gentle bites.
‘You’re just feeling low because of the Cromwell deal. Oh God …’
Roman’s hand brushed over my boob, and my sensitive nipple tingled with joy.
‘I promise you, this is not to make me feel better because of some damn deal that’s gone south. This is because I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s getting harder every day to keep my hands off you.’
I had no willpower and caved.
‘Okay,�
�� I sighed, dropping my head back and giving him access to more of my neck.
‘Good.’ Roman pulled his mouth away from me and grabbed my hand, dragging me from our spot against the wall in his hallway, towards the stairs.
He almost took the stairs two at a time as I scrambled behind him. When we got to his bedroom he pulled me to him, my back against his hard, muscled front. One of his arms wrapped around my chest, while his other hand reached for the zip of my dress. As he gently pulled it down, his lips kissed the back of my neck; warmth flooded through me and my stomach fluttered as he pushed the dress from my shoulders.
‘You are so damn gorgeous, you know that,’ Roman whispered against my skin. ‘And you smell amazing.’
I turned my body to face him and saw desperate longing in his eyes. Roman’s jaw clenched as I reached up and ran a hand through his hair. As my dress dropped to the floor, Roman’s gaze moved to my boobs, barely covered by the pink-and-black lace push-up bra that I was wearing. He drew in a breath and pulled me to him, devouring me with a deep, sinful kiss that was full of promise. I kissed him back just as fervently, and then stepped out of my dress which was pooled on the floor.
‘Fuck,’ Roman groaned as he looked at me in my sandals and underwear: the knickers I was wearing were as brief as my bra.
‘I think you need to get your clothes off too,’ I giggled, as I started to undo the buttons on Roman’s shirt. ‘I feel distinctly underdressed.’
Roman tugged the shirt away from my fingertips, pulled it over his head and threw it onto the floor next to my dress. He unzipped his trousers and toed off his shoes and socks, never once removing his gaze from me. When he kicked his clothes to one side, it was my turn to take a sharp breath. He was stark, buck-naked—not a pair of undies in sight and—oh, lordy, lordy!—he was beautiful. Hard, toned and glorious.
‘You’ve got no undies on.’ I stated the obvious, earning a grin from Roman.
‘Like my dad, I find them far too restricting,’ he replied with a smirk. ‘Now get on the bed.’