by Nicola Marsh
Most importantly, it would prove to herself she was whole again.
That had been the worst part of her enforced rest at Ten-ang—the insidious self-doubts that would creep up on her at inopportune moments and make her wonder if she had what it took to continue leading Seaborns.
For someone who’d loved being the face of the company, who’d attended posh soirées and glamorous events and talked up Seaborn’s fabulous jewellery every chance she got, during her recovery she’d wondered if she’d ever find that kind of energy again.
Sure, she’d improved, but every time she yawned or had a twinge in her muscles or a minor headache from spending too long at the computer, she experienced a fleeting panic that she could suffer a relapse.
Being with Patrick, having him desire her, made her feel physically thriving, and that, more than anything, silenced her doubts in getting sexually involved with him.
Anything, or anyone, that could make her feel on this constant high, as if she was invincible, was worth pursuing.
She remembered the way he’d looked at her those times he’d pleasured her, the way he’d been turned on, the way he devoured her with his eyes every time he thought she wasn’t looking—and her body buzzed.
The endorphin release from Patrick’s touch was much better than any workout.
But craving him this much…how had she morphed from a successful, confident businesswoman to this muddle of need?
His fault for being so darn appealing. Which raised the question: if she did throw herself into a dirty little fling with him, would her sensibilities return or would this crazy, out of control feeling intensify?
She couldn’t afford the latter—needed to ensure Seaborns presented their best work at the Fashion Week show. A real quandary: indulge in a no-holds-barred fling with Patrick, feel utterly amazing and the best she had in ages. Or walk away from any further physical involvement and run the risk of going completely batty wanting him regardless.
She stuck her tongue out at her reflection. How had she ended up in this situation?
She didn’t lust after guys—especially ones who’d driven her nuts in high school. She worked hard and worked out. That was the extent of her life.
Maybe that was half the problem?
Probably. Which was why a decadent weekend of raunchy sex could be just what the doctor ordered.
She chuckled, wondering what the physicians at Tenang would think about that as a treatment for CFS.
Though could she do it? Shuck off her business suit and become a sex-starved goddess for a weekend with Patrick?
As she settled in front of her PC and waited for Patrick’s Skype call one thought reverberated through her head: first time for everything.
Patrick had worked his ass off the last three days. Pulled an all-nighter. Done the work of ten men. Supervised and brainstormed and delegated.
Usually this manic pace gave him a buzz. In the past it had come from partying; these days it was from ensuring Fourde Fashion stayed ahead of competing European designers.
This time working like a maniac hadn’t taken the edge off. Only one woman could do that and he couldn’t wait to see her—even if it was only via a screen.
He didn’t like how she’d got under his skin. Didn’t like the anticipation making his palms clammy. She was a distraction he could ill afford but somehow, despite working his butt off, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
At least Skype was safe. A visual without the temptation of touching. And he’d been doing a lot of that, fantasising about touching her…
He’d half expected Sapphire not to respond to his call, but in a few seconds she appeared, her eyes wide and luminous, her cheeks pink, her lips glossed, and his gut tightened.
‘Hey, gorgeous.’
‘Hey.’ A smile played around her lips but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘What did you want to discuss tonight?’
‘Business, of course.’
He had to stay focussed on business before he ignored his vow to stay away from her and drove like a maniac to her apartment.
Seeing her, even through a screen, wasn’t such a smart idea after all. He should have stuck to e-mails.
‘Good.’ She nodded, as if his answer had allayed her fears of getting too personal. ‘What did you think of those shots I e-mailed this morning?’
‘Ruby’s incredibly talented.’ He held up a sketch. ‘The embedded sapphire choker will look amazing with this evening gown. And the emerald dog collar will accentuate the showstopper perfectly.’
‘Great.’ Her shoulders relaxed a little but her studiously polite smile didn’t slip. ‘What about the yellow diamond set? Could it be used with the saffron sheath or the alabaster A-line?’
‘Think we’ll make that decision when the models wear the final pieces.’
‘Timelines still on track?’
He nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Good, because we’ve been working like maniacs over here.’
‘Same here.’ He slipped a finger between his tie and collar. ‘I’m in danger of becoming a very dull boy.’
Her lips quirked into a coy smile. ‘I doubt that.’
‘I miss playing,’ he said, knowing he shouldn’t flirt but unable to stop.
‘I never have time to.’
He heard the wistful undertone, well aware that if she were anything like she’d been in high school Sapphire would never take time out to play.
‘Everyone should make time to play. It’s healthy.’
‘So I’ve been told,’ she said, glancing away from the screen, fiddling with the neckline of her dress.
In that moment he knew exactly how to make her come out to play.
He locked fingers, stretched and settled them behind his head. ‘Tell me what you’re wearing.’
A cute little crease appeared between her brows. ‘Pretty obvious, I would’ve thought. Ochre shift dress.’
‘I meant what you’re wearing beneath it.’
Her lips parted in a delightful O of surprise before she clamped them shut. ‘We are so not having Skype sex.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because.’ She darted a glance away from the screen. Prob-ably trying to find something to cover the inbuilt camera. ‘I don’t see the point.’
‘The point being it’s fun to play. And if you’re half as horny as me it might take the edge off.’ He unlocked his hands and leaned towards the camera. ‘Plus I love seeing you get off.’
A deep crimson flushed her cheeks.
‘Come on, give a guy a little something to tide him over while he’s working all-nighters.’
The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip before she said, ‘I—I—haven’t done this before. I’m not sure—’
‘It’s all about the fantasy, sweetheart.’ He lowered his voice, knowing he needed to say the right thing or he’d lose her. ‘There’s no right or wrong way. Just do what feels good.’
She paused, worrying her bottom lip for a few indecisive seconds, before her chin tilted and he knew he had her.
‘You tell anyone about this and you’re a dead man.’
Victorious, he leaned back in his chair. ‘Consider this a prelude to the real thing.’
She nodded, and a sweep of hair the colour of gold silk swished across one eye before she pushed it back impatiently.
‘Let’s try this again. Tell me what you’re wearing.’
She inhaled and blew out a breath. ‘Pale pink lace.’
‘Bra and panties?’
‘Thong,’ she corrected, and his hard-on twitched.
‘Sheer?’
‘Yep.’
He cursed.
‘Take off your thong.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Patrick—’
‘Do it,’ he said, his voice thick with lust. ‘And I want to see proof.’
‘I’m not doing that—’
‘Relax, just seeing the thong will do.’ He grinned. ‘For now.’
She huffed out
a breath but he saw her wiggling, and in a few moments she waved the flimsiest excuse for underwear he’d ever seen in front of the camera.
‘Satisfied?’
‘Not by a long shot, babe, but we’re getting there.’
He wondered how far he could push her and decided to go all the way.
‘Now touch yourself.’ He throbbed, and shifted in his chair. ‘You’re turned on, wet, and as you touch yourself I want you to imagine it’s my tongue.’
She moaned, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard via electronic medium.
‘I’ll do it,’ she said, ‘but only if you do it too.’
Kudos to his sexy Sapphire. She was a quick learner.
‘Okay, but only because you asked so nicely.’
He unzipped and sprang free of his boxers, rigid and straining. As he wrapped his fingers around himself he closed his eyes, visualising the encounter he’d had with Sapphire in her bathroom. How her breasts had bounced as he’d thrust between her legs, how slick she’d been, how her face had looked as she came.
‘Can you feel my mouth on you?’ she said, and it was his turn to groan. ‘Because I’m taking you in all the way as I’m touching myself.’
He wanted to open his eyes, to watch her face, but he knew if he did this would be over all too quickly.
‘Tell me what you feel like,’ he said, moving his hand, wishing it were hers.
‘I’m so wet for you,’ she murmured, giving a little pant of surprise. ‘I think I’m going to come pretty soon.’
‘That’s good, because I was ready to blow the second I imagined your mouth around me.’
‘Let’s do this together, okay?’
He heard the vulnerability in her voice and his eyes snapped open. And, yeah, he immediately wished he’d kept them closed.
She had an incredibly rapt expression, filled with wonderment and excitement and awe, and it made him want to fling himself through the screen and cyberspace to sweep her into his arms.
Her wondrous gaze never left his. ‘Patrick, I’m so close…’
‘Come for me,’ he said, his hand quickening as his muscles tightened in pre-release.
‘Patrick…this feels…oooh…’
She came on a drawn-out keen and it was enough to push him over the edge.
His mind blanked as he blasted to outer space and back, despite the fact this had been a poor substitute for where he’d like to be.
‘Patrick?’
‘Hmm?’
‘I have a newfound respect for Skype.’
‘Good, because we’re having another business meeting tomorrow night.’
Patrick was a glutton for punishment.
It was the only explanation for why he’d agreed to personally drop off the fabric swatches to Ruby at Seaborns.
Though it wasn’t Ruby he was hoping to see and he knew it.
It had been two nights since his Skype session with Sap-phire and while he hadn’t contacted her since he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She invaded his every waking moment, and most sleeping ones too.
His vow not to be distracted by her during preparations for this show was not working out so great.
He didn’t like feeling this…confused. Women always held some fascination, but in the past he’d been able to relegate them to his downtime without a problem. But Sap-phire? Whether he was working, or at the gym burning off his frustration, she was there, in his mind, the echo of her pleasure reverberating in his ears until he couldn’t think straight.
Turning up at Seaborns today was about proving to himself he wasn’t enthralled. That he had a grip on this thing between them. That he wasn’t such a schmuck he couldn’t control his libido.
Then Sapphire opened the door and his blasé self-talk faded into oblivion.
‘Thanks for dropping the swatches by,’ she said, holding open the door and beckoning him in. ‘Ruby’s dying to match them to the latest batch of gems.’
‘No worries,’ he said, taking great care not to brush her as he entered.
One touch and he’d take her up against the nearest glass display case.
‘Want a drink?’
He swallowed his first response, a resounding no, and nodded out of politeness. ‘Sure, coffee would be great.’
‘Through here.’
He followed her into a tiny kitchenette at the back of the showroom and immediately regretted his decision to stay, manners be damned. The room was no bigger than a box. A very tiny box that resulted in her light cinnamon peach perfume mingling with the coffee bean aroma and wrapping around him in a sweet, tempting blend.
While the percolator did its thing, she propped herself against the bench and he struggled not to stare at the teal silk wraparound dress that did incredible things to her body and highlighted the sparkle in her eyes.
‘Can I see the swatches?’
He wanted to fling the fabric samples at her and make a run for it while he still could. For he knew without a doubt that if she took a step towards him he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her.
‘Yeah.’
He fished them out of his pocket and held the swatches at arm’s length, earning an amused smile.
‘For someone who was mighty forward the other night, I find your sudden reticence intriguing.’
‘Just take the swatches,’ he said, gritting his teeth against the urge to say more.
Such as what he’d like to do to her right here, right now, up against the tiny kitchen bench.
‘You? Shy?’ She reached out and rubbed a piece of crimson satin between thumb and forefinger. ‘Rather cute.’
He watched her feel the satin, how the soft material slid between her fingers, and counted to ten. Slowly.
It didn’t work.
He snagged her fingers and hauled her towards him, their bodies slamming into one another with enough force to leave them winded.
He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath, ravishing her mouth with the desperation of a man who’d been pushed to his limits.
This idea of his to keep his distance, to keep distractions to a minimum—so not working.
Her hands tangled in his hair, finding purchase, as he shoved her against the nearest wall and pressed into her.
She groaned and he deepened the kiss, yearning to be inside her with a hunger that left him reeling.
How could he be this out of control over a woman? One who could never be more than a fling, considering his long-term plans?
Crazy.
The percolator made a god-awful noise as it clicked off, the sound penetrating the sensual cocoon enveloping them.
Sapphire broke the kiss, her chest heaving, her eyes flashing. ‘One sugar or two?’
He laughed, easing the tension between them. ‘Two. With a double shot of brandy if you have it.’
‘Sorry, you’ll have to make do with sugar,’ she said, busying herself with organising the coffee but unable to hide the betraying tremble in her hands.
He knew the feeling—this relentless, all-consuming craving that had him off-kilter.
Maybe he was going about this all wrong? If an enforced absence wasn’t working, maybe he should try the opposite? Getting her out of his system?
It couldn’t be any worse than the agonising torture he was going through now.
‘Come away with me for the weekend.’
Her hand stilled, holding the kettle in mid-air as she poured boiling water into her mug.
‘I thought we were going to not see each other during the campaign—’
‘Screw it.’ He dragged his hand through his hair and took two steps, which constituted pacing in the tiny kitchenette. ‘We need to get this thing out of our systems, and staying apart isn’t helping, so let’s go for it.’
‘Well, when you put it like that, how can a girl refuse?’ She topped off her mug and placed the kettle on its stand.
He winced. ‘Sorry, that didn’t come out right.’
‘I get it.’
She handed him his coffee. ‘We’re going a little stir crazy. I guess a weekend away can’t hurt.’
‘Great. I’ll set it up—e-mail you the details.’
She nodded, cradling her mug, staring at him with wide eyes over the top of it.
He couldn’t read the expression in those rich blue depths, but if she was half as shell-shocked as him he couldn’t blame her.
Hopefully this impulsive weekend away would ease this clamouring attraction between them once and for all. And then he could concentrate on more important things—like putting his plans into action.
‘What’s got you in a tizz?’ Ruby held out an arm, effectively blocking Sapphie’s exit from her workshop.
‘Nothing,’ she said, wishing she hadn’t snapped at her sister. It was a sure-fire sign something was going on, considering she’d been nothing but the epitome of calm since Tenang.
Before Patrick showed up, that was.
Ruby pointed to a spare stool next to her workbench. ‘Sit. Spill.’
Sapphie shrugged, pretending she didn’t have a care in the world, when all she could think about was getting naked with Patrick face to face. Or other bits to other bits, more precisely.
‘I’m getting angsty about the show.’
Ruby frowned. ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to get ang-sty? Part of your new relaxation routine?’
‘There’s only so far yoga can take you, Rubes.’
Her sister’s astute gaze swept over her. ‘This isn’t about work, is it?’
‘’Course it is—’
‘Why don’t you just bonk him and get it out of your system, already? You’ll feel a lot better for it. Trust me.’
Sapphie screwed up her nose. ‘Euw! Please don’t elaborate on how you and Jax managed to brainstorm that auction.’
Her sister’s smug grin reeked of sin. Half her luck.
Ruby laid down her pliers, pushed her loupe out of the way and crossed her arms.
‘You’ve been working like a maniac this last week. Why don’t you take the weekend off? Call Patrick? Get together—’
‘He’s taking me away for the weekend,’ she blurted, unable to keep it a secret any longer.
She’d had no intention of telling Ruby anything, expecting to be teased, interrogated or both for the next millennium, but with her departure to destination unknown creeping ever closer Sapphie had to say something for no other reason than articulating made it real.