“Here, let me.”
Before she could object, he was behind her, reaching for her luggage.
“Up the back, yeah?” he said.
They were standing so close—her back to his chest, her backside brushing his hips—she felt his words ruffle the hair near her ear. If she turned around, her breasts would be pressed against his chest. She’d only have to lean forward an inch, maybe two, to kiss him.
His body moved against hers as he pushed her bag into place. Desire washed over her like warm, sticky toffee. She closed her eyes, trying to quell the longing rising inside her.
How long had it been since she’d had sex? Really good, earth-shaking sex, the kind that made a woman forget her own name?
Too long. Way too long.
“There we go. Sorted.”
One minute Zach was behind her, the next he was gone, sliding back into his seat. She blinked, feeling distinctly robbed. Having him rammed up behind her had been the most fulfilling sensual encounter she’d had all year.
Then she remembered where they were, and exactly how many of their colleagues were seated around them right at this minute.
Dear God, and she was standing in the aisle, gasping like a landed fish, her face warm, her blouse untucked.
She shut her mouth and hastily retucked her blouse before dropping into her seat.
“Thanks for that,” she said belatedly.
“Not a problem,” Zach said casually.
She stared at what she could see of his profile through the gap in the headrests. He sounded very calm, while she felt as though she’d just stepped out of a Turkish sauna. Was it possible he could have this effect on her yet be immune to her himself?
A middle-aged woman stopped beside Audrey and gave an apologetic smile. “That’s me,” she said, pointing to the window seat. “Sorry to be a pain.”
“All good,” Audrey said, unclipping her belt and standing to let the woman take her seat.
She couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Zach before she sat back down and saw that he was reading his way through a very familiar-looking document.
“Is that ours?” she asked, leaning forward to get a better look, even though she knew the smartest thing for her to do right now was to go stick her head under the tap in the tiny bathroom until her unruly hormones calmed the freak down.
He glanced up at her. “Giving it one last go-over. Just in case.”
“You nerdy nerd.”
“Bet you’ve got a copy in your bag.”
She smiled her best mysterious, Mona Lisa smile. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”
“Good try, Mathews, but you’re as much of a nerdy nerd as I am,” he said, laughing at her.
It was a little scary how much she liked making him laugh. And how much she wanted to do it again. Anything to prolong their conversation. She was about to send a suitable insult his way when the flight attendant cruised past and asked her to fasten her seat belt, effectively saving her from herself.
It was a two-hour flight to the Gold Coast, and she spent most of it chastising herself for her heated response to Zach’s proximity. She really needed to be more careful around him if a little bit of close-talking and the most innocuous of body contact could get her so turned on. It was just as well that the report was all but finished. Once they’d presented it to Whitman, there would be no reason for them to spend so much time together.
She caught a cab to the hotel with Megan, and after they’d checked in they made their way to the lifts. Zach was waiting there, and the three of them entered the one elevator car. It was odd taking the lift up to their rooms and discovering that he was only one floor below where she would be sleeping for the next three nights. Megan gave her a look as the elevator doors closed behind him.
“Needle in your eye, remember? More binding than a pinky promise,” she said.
“Relax. Nothing is going to happen,” Audrey replied, distinctly worried by the lack of conviction in her own voice.
* * *
THE CONFERENCE KICKED off with a cocktail party that evening, an event she’d been dreading. She hated small talk, but as this was the only occasion when she had access to so many of the cooperative’s influential retailers and suppliers under one roof, she knew she had to make hay while the sun shone. So, she went to battle dressed in her best little black dress, friendly smile at the ready.
She spotted Zach the moment she entered the ballroom, even though he had his back to the door. He was wearing a gunmetal gray suit, and she knew before he turned around that the color would do amazing things for his eyes. Then he turned and she forgot to breathe for a moment as his stormy gaze met hers.
Wow. How was it possible for one man to contain so much hotness in one body? One very muscular, very hard, very toned body? And how was it possible that he kept getting better-looking? Because he definitely was. It wasn’t simply her imagination.
“Here.”
Megan slid an icy champagne flute into her hand.
“Bless you.” Audrey tore her eyes from Zach before her friend could notice and start campaigning again.
“How long does this thing go for again?” Megan asked out of the side of her mouth.
“Two hours.”
“Meet you in the bar afterward?”
“Deal.”
They clinked glasses and parted ways. Audrey threw Zach one last glance before diving into the fray. He was talking to one of the retailer’s wives, and the woman was gazing up at him with a small smile on her face. As if she couldn’t believe he was real, and that she was talking to him.
Audrey hoped she didn’t look like that when she was talking to Zach. It would be too humiliating and far too revealing.
She spent the next two hours schmoozing, cajoling, defending various decisions the merchandise department had made and laughing at bad jokes. It was nearly 10:30 by the time she could legitimately slink off, and she made her way to the bar and found a booth in its darkest, most hidden corner. She closed her eyes for a precious minute. Her feet ached and she was absolutely starving, the catering having been on the stingy side. Her throat was sore from speaking up to be heard over the crowd, and it would only get worse as the conference progressed.
“Oh, I thought that would never end,” Megan said as she slid into the seat opposite her.
Audrey pushed the drinks menu across the table. “Choose your poison, my dear.”
Megan gave her a grateful smile. “Have I ever told you what an awesome friend you are? Do you have any idea how many times my head would have exploded over the past five years if I didn’t have you keeping me sane?”
“Ditto, babe. The feeling is entirely mutual.”
They ordered nachos for two and a bottle of wine and bitched and moaned and strategized until they were both yawning and possibly a little tipsy.
“Bed for me,” Megan said.
“God, yes.”
They made their way to their floor and parted company in the corridor.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Megan said as she teetered up the hallway.
Audrey kicked her shoes off the moment she was inside her room, shimmying out of her dress before pulling on a tank top and pajama pants. She slept in the buff at home, but there were far too many unexpected intrusions in hotels for her to feel comfortable doing so tonight.
Megan’s words echoed in her head as she brushed her teeth. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. She entertained herself by wondering where, exactly, her friend would draw the line.
Eating every chocolate bar in the minifridge?
Making prank phone calls to their fellow conference attendees?
Knocking on Zach’s door and making him an offer he couldn’t refuse?
Okay. Where had that thought come from?
As if you don’t know.
Audrey spat out toothpaste and rinsed her mouth, then met her own gaze in the mirror. If they didn’t work together, she would be seriously tempted to follow through on the idea.
But they did.
She made a frustrated noise before walking to the bedroom. She flicked off the lights, then lay stiff as a board between the cool, starchy hotel sheets and tried to clear her mind.
But she couldn’t. All she could think about was Zach, and the crazy, reckless urge to find out if the way she felt when she was around him translated into the kind of mind-blowing sex she suspected it might.
After a few minutes of battling her own hormones, she gave in and let herself imagine what might happen if she really did go knocking on Zach’s door.
There was no harm in imagining, right?
She’d have a shower first, of course, and dig out the matching black bra and underwear she’d brought to wear beneath her dress for the gala dinner. She’d spray on perfume and do her best femme fatale makeup, then she’d slip into something that would be easy to take off again—no point pretending she was there to do anything but get naked with him.
She imagined herself striding up the corridor and stopping outside Zach’s door. Her stomach gave an odd little hop-skip, even though this wasn’t real.
She’d never propositioned a man in her life. But this was pure fiction, so she might as well go for broke. It wasn’t as though she would ever have the real thing, after all.
She’d knock, and Zach would open the door, and she’d look him in the eye and say something confident and sassy like “What happens at conference stays at conference. Get your clothes off.”
She smiled in the darkness, loving her fantasy-self’s brashness.
She’d push Zach backward, then she’d kiss him and press her body against his. He’d be hard already and she’d tilt her hips into his, teasing them both.
She shifted restlessly, aware of the growing ache of desire between her thighs. That was the thing with fantasy—it made for great foreplay, but when there was no payoff in sight it became a special form of torture. Her fingers curved to the soft roundness of her mound and she pressed ever so lightly.
She imagined Zach touching her, and her touching him. She imagined pulling her dress over her head and him pushing her onto the bed and peeling off her underwear and sliding his fingers inside her. He’d find her hot and wet and ready for him.
So ready for him.
She slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her pajama pants, but something stopped her from breaching the final barrier of her panties.
If she did this, she would be crossing a line, even if only in her head. It was one thing to admit she was attracted to Zach, another thing entirely to fantasize herself to a climax using him as her inspiration.
She had to work with him. She had to see him every day in the staff room. She had to present their joint analysis to their scary new CEO with him when they returned from conference.
She slid her hand from her pajamas. Her body sent up a silent wail of protest as she rolled onto her belly and very deliberately thought about the repairs she still hadn’t booked for her car.
Slowly her body cooled and the ache between her thighs dissipated. A good thing. She’d made the right decision. The smart decision. That was who she was now, since she’d used up her quota of bad decisions when she was sixteen.
One day, maybe, she could let up on herself. But not today. Definitely not today.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE ROSE EARLY the next morning and went for a walk along the beach, figuring she should take advantage of the fact that they were on the sunny Gold Coast. A small and completely harmless pleasure.
When she returned, she met Megan in the hotel restaurant and watched her friend all but backstroke through the offerings in the buffet.
“Feeling a little peckish, huh?” she asked as Megan slid her piled-high plate onto the table.
“I told you, I’m going through a growth spurt. Or I’m sublimating my disappointment at not being able to fall pregnant into growing a food-baby.” She patted her stomach. “Either way, this buffet works for me.”
Audrey ate her virtuous fruit and granola and watched her friend inhale her meal.
“Better?”
“I feel a little sick. But kind of proud of myself. Is that wrong?”
Audrey passed her a napkin and indicated that she had food on her chin. “We’d better motor, the first sessions start soon.”
She stood and turned from the table—and stopped dead in her tracks because Zach was there, standing mere meters away in front of the bread selection, trying to decide between a croissant and a Danish. Images of last night assailed her—Zach kissing her, Zach pushing her down onto his bed, her slipping her hand beneath her pajama pants...
Even though some of those things had only happened in the privacy of her mind, she could feel guilty, revealing heat stealing into her face.
Ducking her head, she hustled past Zach before he could spot her, stopping only when she was standing in front of the elevator bank.
“Wow, you are really worried about not missing the first session, aren’t you?” Megan said.
“I just remembered I need to make some calls,” Audrey fibbed.
She still felt warm, and even though she couldn’t see her face she suspected it must still be pink. Thank God she hadn’t actually gone all the way with fantasy Zach last night. She would have been at real risk of actually self-combusting back there.
The chime sounded, signaling the arrival of the elevator, and she and Megan stepped inside. The doors were about to close when someone called out for them to hold the lift.
Megan hit the open button and they both stood a little straighter as Henry Whitman stepped in. He wore running gear and had obviously been tearing up the streets. Audrey offered him a smile and a bright good-morning before averting her eyes from his bare shoulders, only to find herself looking at his bare legs instead. Really, there was no good place to look when your boss was in workout gear.
She could only be thankful he wasn’t an avid cyclist and she and Megan didn’t have to contend with a padded Lycra butt, painfully outlined man bits and silly shoes.
“Great day out there,” Megan said, super perky. “Sunshine, nice clear skies.”
“Yes,” Whitman said.
Audrey racked her brain for something to say. She’d had precious few face-to-face encounters with him to date—the banana incident, obviously, and the range-review inquisition, along with a handful of smile-and-nod pass-bys in the corridors at work. She’d noticed he wasn’t exactly the master of small talk. Or perhaps he simply preferred not to get too close to the people he would soon squash like bugs.
Either way, it was clearly going to be up to her to initiate conversation.
“Have you had a chance to—”
The lift pinged to a halt, the doors gliding open. Whitman exited after offering them a terse nod.
She and Megan remained silent until the doors closed again.
“That went well,” Audrey said.
“Yes, I thought so. I particularly liked your haiku.”
“Thank you. Have you ever considered TV weather girl as an alternate career?”
They both cracked up laughing.
“Is it just me, or is he super-scary?” Megan asked.
“He’s scary. I think he likes it, too.”
They parted ways at Audrey’s door and Audrey went inside to brush her teeth and make some final preparations for the day ahead. Her gaze fell on the bright Makers-blue of the cover of the analysis as she prepared to leave the room again. Zach would get a kick out of her encounter with the Great Man. She could almost see his mouth curling up into an appreciative smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’d probably tell her—
So we’re both on the same page here, you know what you’re doing, right? Standing in your hotel room, grinning like a doltish loon over an imaginary conversation with a man who is never going to be more than a friend?
She pressed her lips together and left the room. She was here to work. It would be a good idea if she focused on that fact. Instead of...other things.
&nbs
p; * * *
SHE DID HER best to avoid Zach for the rest of the day and night, but as fate would have it, he was the first person she saw the next morning when she arrived in the foyer. Hard not to notice him when he was standing in the middle of the lobby, talking to Henry Whitman. Shaking his hand and handing over a thick, spiral-bound document with a bright blue cover.
Time literally stuttered to a halt as neurons fired and connected in her brain. The smile on Zach’s face. The manly handshake. The fact that Whitman was walking away with her freaking analysis in his hand.
No. No, Zach wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t. Not after all the hard work we put into that thing.
They’d written it together. They’d rehearsed their presentation together. She couldn’t believe that Zach would shaft her so spectacularly by robbing her of her share of the kudos. Not now that they knew each other. Not now that they were friends.
Zach turned away, heading across the foyer toward the restaurant, clearly unaware that she’d witnessed his little confab with Whitman. She scuttled after him, her heels clicking and skidding on the tiled floor.
“Zach. Zach.”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Audrey. Hey.” He smiled the kind of smile that would normally make her lose her train of thought.
Not today.
“Was that our analysis I just saw you hand to Whitman?” She tried to keep her voice calm.
Because she needed to confirm his perfidy before she gouged his eyes out. Maybe he’d given Whitman a different report and the blue cover was a coincidence. Maybe she was on the verge of lunging for his jugular for no reason at all.
Please let that be the case. Please, please let him not have betrayed me like this.
“Yeah. I bumped into him when I was running this morning and mentioned I had it with me and he asked for it.” He shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal.
“So you gave it to him. Even though we’re scheduled to present it together in a couple of days?”
He frowned, clearly picking up on her tone. “I’m getting the feeling that if I say yes you’re going to have a problem with that.”
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