And when she licked her lips and then touched them… Dear God…the flame of a reciprocal desire was well and truly ignited for Oliver.
Not that he was going to act on it, of course. That would be totally inappropriate, not only because she was being employed to care for his mother but because she was so totally unlike any woman he’d ever allowed into the inner circle of his life. Whoever said that a class system didn’t exist in New Zealand had never been involved in the kind of social circle he would be a valued member of later this evening.
To choose to be with someone like Bella Graham would be a form of rebellion and he had never done rebellion, had he?
Was that what he’d been missing out on all these years? What had propelled him prematurely into middle age?
The sun was sinking rapidly now and the light was fading more with every passing second. Any moment and Bella would realise that his workout was over and that he’d turn around and she’d be busted. Any moment now and she would probably slip silently away. Exactly what she would do if she saw him start to turn around, too.
So Oliver didn’t turn around. He spoke to the reflection he could see in the mirror.
‘Was there something you wanted, Bella?’
* * *
Oh…God…
How long had Oliver known she was standing here? The embarrassment was excruciating.
‘I…um…I’m looking for your mother’s necklace. I think it must be somewhere in here.’
‘Come in, then.’ Oliver picked up a towel that had been draped over the handlebars of the treadmill. He mopped the sweat off his face and then the front of his chest. ‘Don’t mind me. I’m about to hit the shower.’
Bella tried not to watch Oliver towelling himself off. Or think about him sluicing that body with soap and water in a nearby shower. She could have scuttled back upstairs but the determination to salvage something from her day included more than finding that necklace.
She forced herself to walk closer to Oliver. ‘I’d like to apologise,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m absolutely appalled at what happened this evening. It won’t happen again, I promise.’
She looked up then, hoping she could convey the genuine message that Oliver could trust her to care for his mother.
He seemed to get it. He nodded slowly. He stepped closer to Bella.
So close that her mouth went dry. He seemed to have stepped so close that any barriers between them, invisible or otherwise, had simply vanished.
He knew, she realised. Somehow, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking when she’d been standing there so absorbed in watching his body.
The thought should have been horrific except for the intensity with which Oliver was looking at her. The eye contact that went on…and on… The interest she could sense coming from him.
Was it remotely possible that he found her as attractive as she found him? Judging by the way the air seemed to be crackling in the space between them, Bella had to believe it was possible.
And more exciting than anything had ever been in her whole, entire life.
The subtle movement of her body was instinctive. She barely felt herself tilt forward in invitation but she was aware of her lips parting. Of her tongue coming out to moisten them because they felt so incredibly dry. And she could see the way Oliver’s gaze dropped as he watched her tongue.
She wasn’t sure what happened next. When she thought about it later, it was simply a blur of excitement intense enough to be blinding. One moment they were standing there with the air about to ignite and then she was in Oliver’s arms, being kissed like she had never, ever been kissed in her life.
It was overwhelming. A solid mass of almost naked, perfect male body that was touching Bella with a hunger that made her feel like the most desirable female in existence. She could smell the heat that still came from his body after a punishing workout. She could feel the way his tongue moved against hers, withdrawing and then thrusting, stroking the fires of need for it to be the real thing instead of an imitation performed by their joined mouths and dancing tongues.
She could feel the slick of sweat on his lower back that made it so easy to slip her hands beneath the elastic of his shorts. Could feel the rock-hard evidence of his desire pressing into the part of her that wanted more. More…
She must have whispered the plea aloud because Oliver groaned.
‘No condom,’ he growled.
‘I’m safe.’ Bella’s words came out in a gasp as she pressed herself closer and moved to close the gap that had appeared between their mouths. She was safe. She’d been through the routine screening offered to medical personnel at St Pat’s. She’d never been exposed to a sexually transmitted or blood-borne disease.
Oliver’s hands were moving. He was cupping her breast.
‘You’re on the Pill?’
‘Oh…’ His thumb was grazing her nipple and Bella’s knees almost buckled. ‘Oh…yes…’
He was undoing her jeans now and that meant he wasn’t stopping. Thank God for that…
Somewhere in the back of Bella’s head a warning bell was sounding. He thinks you’ve said that you’re on the Pill, a small voice whispered.
Stop now. This is dangerous. You don’t know what could happen. This is quite probably the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever considered doing.
Bella had had plenty of practice not listening to that little voice. Besides, she knew what could happen but what were the odds, really? Pretty darned small and…and she could go for a swim afterwards and that would probably wash any risk away. If that didn’t work, didn’t she have a dose of the morning-after pill tucked away from a time it hadn’t been needed after all?
And…the risk would be worth it, wouldn’t it? She might never have this opportunity again.
Oliver’s hands were against bare skin now. Touching the very core of the blinding heat of her need.
‘Oh…’ Bella gasped again. She was touching him now, too. Could feel the velvet over steel that her body was desperate to enfold. The past was irrelevant. The future ceased to exist.
‘Now…’ Bella pleaded. ‘Oliver…please…now…’
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHAT had he been thinking?
Oliver Dawson found himself fumbling uselessly with his gold cufflinks. He hadn’t been thinking, pure and simple. For the first time in his life, he’d been carried away by the moment. By something as base as physical desire. Even now, when he had come to his senses and realised how incredibly stupid he’d been, his body was betraying him with a stab of remembered pleasure. Of longing.
The knowledge that he wanted more.
It was about more than sex, he realised. That sense of freedom he’d experienced giving in to the temptation to do something because it was what he wanted for himself had been irresistible.
Intoxicating.
The worst thing about it was that he had been perfectly well aware of exactly how much of a risk he was taking. It was, without doubt, the first real risk with potentially catastrophic consequences that he’d ever taken in his life.
It was certainly the first time he’d ever had unprotected sex.
Oh…God… He groaned aloud, following the sound with a muttered oath as he jerked his dinner suit off the clothes hanger.
He had to walk past the gymnasium as he left his bedroom suite but it felt like only minutes since he’d been in there with Bella. Hell, it had only been a matter of minutes. At least the alarm sounding on his watch to remind him of his obligations elsewhere had been an excuse to escape having to deal with the aftermath of what he’d done in front of Bella.
He couldn’t just leave things like that, though, could he? Bella might think it had been the start of…something. She might say something, even, in front of his mother.
Was she still in there? As he’d
rushed off to have a shower and get changed she’d said something about having a quick swim before going back to check on Lady Dorothy.
Yes. Wrapped in a towel, Bella seemed to be lying on the floor of the gymnasium, her limbs jerking in a fashion that made alarm bells ring for Oliver. He was beside her in seconds.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘N-nothing…’ Bella wriggled, pulling her arm out from beneath the treadmill. She scrambled to her feet, the movement loosening the towel and giving Oliver an unwanted glimpse of her still naked body.
And he’d thought that shaft of renewed desire he’d had moments earlier was as much as he’d have to resist from now on?
He’d been dreaming. This was going to be torture. Oliver sucked in a steadying breath. He had to gain control here. Better late than never.
‘That…what happened here…it shouldn’t have happened, Bella.’
She was eyeing his dinner suit and Oliver suddenly felt ridiculously overdressed in his Armani suit and velvet bow-tie.
‘You’re employed by my mother,’ he continued.
It was a good enough reason to excuse himself from the almost palpable awareness that what had happened here might possibly happen again. No, make that probably happen again. And again.
He simply couldn’t let that happen.
Not after a lifetime of doing the right thing. Doing what he was supposed to do. Oliver wasn’t about to fall off the rails on a regular basis. Tasting the freedom of pleasing only himself was intoxicating enough but the lure of doing it again was dangerous. Self-indulgence could only undermine what his life had been about for as long as he could remember.
It could turn him into the kind of person his father had been.
He had made his own rules and learned how to earn self-respect, if nothing else.
‘It can’t happen again,’ he heard himself say, his voice curiously raw. ‘It’s just not…appropriate.’
‘No-o-o…’ Bella’s smile was crooked. She gave his suit another glance and then looked over her shoulder, taking in their surroundings. ‘Bit like bonking one of the servants, really, wasn’t it?’
Oliver’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s a ridiculous thing to suggest.’
‘Is it?’ Bella fiddled with the towel again, tucking it more firmly around her body. As she did so, something came loose from her hand.
‘What’s that?’ The query came out as a snap because Oliver realised he was angry at her inference that he’d taken advantage as someone in a more powerful position than she was. Or that she was in some way socially inferior. That wasn’t the reason it was inappropriate at all. It was because she was his mother’s nurse. Or maybe that wasn’t the real reason either. Bella was so totally the opposite of anyone he’d ever been remotely attracted to. So carefree and full of life and…well, just…Bella. The way she was right now, with her face lighting up with a smile.
She personified rebellion, that’s what it was. And while the attraction was undeniable, could there be a space in his life for something like that on a regular basis?
Oliver could feel a hard, grim band curling around inside his gut and it tightened with a painful jerk. Of course there wasn’t.
Bella held out her hand to show him the object and Oliver recognised the necklace he’d given his mother so many years ago.
‘It was under the treadmill,’ Bella told him delightedly. ‘I spotted it when I was…when we were… Anyway, I kind of forgot but then remembered when I was swimming.’
Oliver could feel his eyebrows rising. She’d been distracted by the glint of jewellery in the middle of the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever experienced?
Bella seemed to be watching him carefully. ‘Afterwards,’ she said softly. ‘Not during…’ Her smile widened. ‘That’s a ridiculous thing to suggest.’
* * *
She’d made him laugh.
Funnily enough, it had been that genuinely amused, appreciative sound that that provided the tipping point for Bella.
You’d think it was the raw power that came from a man with his kind of intelligence and status that would have done it.
Or the sheer physical beauty, not only of his body but in the way he made love.
But no. It was a chuckle. A moment of connection that touched something so different in Bella’s soul, she knew she was lost.
Head over heels in love with Oliver Dawson.
Or should that be hopelessly in love?
Yep. That was the one because nothing could ever come of it. Bella was doomed to live with the agony of unrequited passion.
That became painfully obvious the next morning, after a sleepless night of vacillating between the pleasure of reliving every moment beside the pool to the pain of seeing Oliver looking so impossibly gorgeous in that dinner suit, heading off to spend the rest of his evening in the company of appropriate people. Appropriate women. Like that Monique.
He came into Lady Dorothy’s suite to say goodbye and wish his mother a good day—the way he did most mornings.
Bella was helping Lady Dorothy to apply the minimum of make-up that she deemed necessary even for a day when they wouldn’t be leaving the house. Thank goodness she was putting the lid back on the lipstick and not applying it to Lady Dorothy’s face when her hand shook that little bit.
He did speak to her as he left.
‘Have a good day, Bella,’ he had said.
The eye contact had been brief enough that the knowledge that Oliver was deliberately avoiding any kind of connection was unmistakable. Bella had primed herself to be ready for it but it was still crushing.
Unbearable.
Or was it?
Maybe she deserved the rejection because she’d done the most irresponsible thing ever. Told the biggest lie ever. Maybe Oliver knew instinctively that she wasn’t trustworthy. She could hardly reassure him now and tell him that she’d taken that morning-after pill. She hadn’t been that reassured herself when she’d noticed it was past its expiry date but, hey…they built in a huge safety margin, didn’t they?
Bella went on with the routine of the day in an uncharacteristically subdued manner. She checked Lady Dorothy’s blood-sugar levels and administered her insulin, quickly followed by a robust breakfast of scrambled eggs and parsley on toast. She made sure that she recorded everything in the notes she was keeping on her patient, adding in a few extras as well, like blood pressure, heart rate and respiration rate measurements. A neatly written paragraph about the progress Lady Dorothy was making filled up the whole page of the big diary for that day. A diary she knew that Oliver would be checking more carefully after yesterday’s hypoglycaemic episode.
A large part of the afternoon was taken up with examining a catalogue from a medical supplies firm and discussing the merits of various assistive devices with Lady Dorothy.
‘I think the easy-grip cutlery would be worth a try. And the high-lipped plates.’
‘Baby stuff,’ Lady Dorothy sniffed. ‘I’m getting better at feeding myself, aren’t I?’
‘Yes, but with that high edge on the plate you could chase your food until you caught it. You wouldn’t need me to put it on the spoon. And, you never know, that dinky little knife might mean you could cut things up yourself, too. You wouldn’t need me to do anything. Independence isn’t babyish.’ Bella threw in a trump card. ‘Nanna would have loved these. She hated being fed.’
‘We could give them a try, I suppose,’ Lady Dorothy conceded. ‘And maybe you’re right about that shower chair. I’d like to be able to do that by myself too.’
‘At the rate you’re going, they’ll probably be temporary aids. Think of them like using crutches for a broken ankle or something.’
‘Hmm. In that case, let’s have another look at that modified keyboard thing. I’m missing doing my emails.’
Bella was
already filling in an order form. ‘If I ring the supplier, they might be able to deliver it all by tomorrow. Later today even.’
‘Don’t forget we’re doing the spa pool again later.’
Bella’s smile was forced. Having to be back in that space with its new memories was something she might well try to avoid but she was hardly likely to forget because she knew how hard it would be.
And it was. But in the turmoil of thoughts and feelings that even walking past the treadmill engendered, something happened to move her forward a step. A new notion presented itself and it grew slowly over the next day or two, especially when Oliver relaxed a little as the normal routine of his life was re-established, uninterrupted by any challenge from Bella to revisit their impulsive connection. When he could actually meet Bella’s gaze and exchange more than a few words with her, as though nothing untoward had even happened.
He’d sounded almost pleased to be talking to her today, in fact, when he’d been telling her about Wally’s surgery and how well it had gone. The elderly man hadn’t regained consciousness yet so they couldn’t know whether there would be any lasting effects but, at the moment, things were looking good and they may well have given him a good few extra years.
Bella had been thrilled to hear the news, of course. So thrilled that her plan took final shape and was clearly the way forward for her because it meant she would be able to retain her pride. With a bit of luck, it might mean those little cracks in her heart from the pressure of unrequited love might heal as well.
The plan was centred on the fact that Bella was doing an exceptionally good job with Lady Dorothy. Oliver would notice her record-keeping. He would notice the progress his mother was making over the next while, too. Progress that could well speed up with the arrival of all those assistive devices that had been ordered with no expense spared.
Bella had no doubt that she could earn Oliver’s professional respect and, more importantly, his trust by doing her job so well she would also be showing him that she wasn’t about to run away from a challenge. Or the humiliation of knowing that she wasn’t appropriate.
Falling for Her Impossible Boss Page 8