by Maggie Cox
‘So, Miss McKenzie…where do we go from here?’
It was difficult to think straight with the sudden rush of blood to her head. Her expression revealing her anxiety more candidly than she knew, Morgen glanced nervously up at Conall. ‘Where do you want to go from here?’
Overwhelming her with another sexy smile, he tightened the strong arms around her waist a little. ‘Want me to be frank with you?’
Morgen nodded.
‘Your bed would be good.’
She dipped her gaze, her heartbeat going crazy. She knew she should do the sensible thing and say no, but she was suddenly tired of her enforced self-restraint. After six years of celibacy, her body ached for a man’s attentions. And not just any man. Only this man would do…this dark-haired, blue-eyed giant who had ‘heartbreak’ written all over him. Right then, Morgen thought her heart was worth the risk.
‘All right, then.’
He watched her tug her tight pink T-shirt over her head in the lamplight. Impatience overpowering him, he took it from her and threw it on the bed. The white lace cups of her uplift bra presented her beautiful curves like a sensual banquet, causing heat to flood Conall’s body at the sight, making him immediately heavy and aroused. When Morgen reached for the snap on her jeans, his hand waylaid her and jerked her towards him.
His kiss was almost ruthless—all worthy intentions of taking things slowly helplessly abandoned in the heat of passion. Weaving his fingers through her long dark hair to anchor her more firmly to his embrace, Conall let his hand shape and mould her heavenly curves, thoughts of possessing that beautiful body making him a little crazy. He’d staked his claim and—barring acts of God—had no intention of letting her go any time soon. Feeling her tremble, Conall exulted in his manhood, his only desire to pleasure them both in a way that neither would forget in a hurry. He had been aching for her from the moment he’d set eyes on her, and if he’d nurtured any fantasies at all about his perfect woman, Morgen was the living, breathing manifestation of that fantasy.
Sliding his hands down her slim back, he deftly released the catch on her bra, sending up a silent prayer of thanks that he’d accomplished it without difficulty, then removed it completely. It too joined the discarded pink T-shirt on the bed. Her breasts were as lovely as he had known they would be. Voluptuous and womanly, with dusky nipples that just begged for his mouth to pleasure them. Making a little sound of need, Morgen wound her arms around Conall’s neck, pressing those same luscious breasts deep against his chest.
‘Let me finish undressing you,’ he whispered huskily against her neck, and she willingly let him do as he desired, her skin quivering wherever he touched her. When she was naked, he laid her back on the bed and stripped off his own clothing.
Morgen reached out in wonder to caress the flat brown nipples on his magnificent chest, her fingers diverting to push through the springy dark hairs surrounding them. His body was amazing. Wide smooth shoulders, with enough rippling musculature to die for, that incredible chest tapering down to a hard flat stomach, lean hips and long, well muscled legs—now tangling with hers. She sucked in her breath, letting his kiss devour her, the hands that explored his powerful male body as eager to stroke and touch as his own were in pleasuring her.
Conall’s movements were instinctive, yet skilled, and he seemed to know exactly where to touch her to elicit the utmost pleasure. He also knew the exact pressure to apply to make her gasp, and Morgen arched her back off the bed, truly believing she would lose her mind if he didn’t possess her right now.
Above her in the lamplight, Conall stilled. His blue eyes seemed to burn into her heart with the intensity of his stare. ‘I hate to be the voice of reason, but I really need to protect you.’
‘Have you—? I mean, did you—?’ It was a bit late in the day to be struck dumb with embarrassment, but Morgen was. How could she have been so mindless as not to think of it herself? Was she so eager to bring trouble crashing down on her head?
But Conall was reaching down to the end of the bed for his jeans, withdrawing the requisite protection from his pocket and sheathing himself adeptly. Morgen’s heart slowed to beat at a more normal rate. Thank God. Thank God he’d had the foresight to be sensible before things had gone too far.
Moving above her, his big body covered hers, and she slid her long slender arms around his neck then, with a hungry sigh, eagerly received his kiss. As his mouth moved tormentingly over hers, taunting and teasing, nipping and caressing, Conall let one hand slip down her body to part her legs. Morgen had been ready for him practically from the moment he’d suggested they go to bed and, seeing no reason to postpone their mutual pleasure, Conall eased his way inside her, his satin length filling her until Morgen thought she might lose her mind with the intense gratification of it.
‘Wrap your legs around me,’ he ordered, and she needed no second bidding.
He drove into her hard, his hips grinding into hers as his mouth took possession of first one nipple then the other, nipping and suckling so that Morgen felt the deep primeval connection convulse like lightning from her breast to her womb. Then she was digging her fingernails into that strong muscular back, the tips of her fingers sliding on skin slippery with perspiration, holding on for dear life as he took her over the edge to an intensity of bliss she’d never experienced before. With a fierce groan that seemed to take him by surprise, he quickly joined her. The weight of his body drove her deep into the bed, but there was pleasure in that too, in being held captive in those big strong arms, feeling those slick hard muscles contract beneath her fingers.
Emboldened by his loving, Morgen pushed back his dark silky hair as he raised his head to look down at her, her heart almost stalling in her chest when he smiled.
‘You are definitely the nicest thing that’s happened to me in a long time, Miss McKenzie.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself, Mr O’Brien.’
‘Just one question.’
‘What’s that?’ Morgen gasped as his mouth temporarily captured one of her fingers and sucked on it.
‘Why wasn’t I informed that the woman of my dreams was working right under my nose, so to speak?’
‘Hardly under your nose when you work in New York,’ she reminded him, a smile raising one corner of her softly curving mouth.
‘My mistake. My big mistake.’ His voice husky with delight, Conall stole another deeply hungry kiss. When he raised his head again his expression was more serious. ‘As soon as I can finalise things with the New York office I’m transferring back to London permanently. Did I tell you?’
Morgen stared. ‘No. You didn’t tell me. Can you do that?’ Her brain racing with all the implications of Conall working permanently in London, she absent-mindedly traced a circle on his bicep.
‘Sweetheart, I can do anything I damn well please, seeing as I own the firm.’
Something in Morgen’s mind snapped to immediate attention. What was she thinking of—being so delighted that Conall was transferring back to London? They’d just made love, and it was wonderful, blissful, the best thing that had happened to her in ages, but she couldn’t allow herself to get swept along with what was happening between herself and this man. He’d just delivered a very timely reminder of who he was, and she was under no illusion that they would enjoy more together than a brief passionate affair.
Men like Conall O’Brien did not commit to women like her—she only had to think of Simon to understand that—and Conall was not a man who had long meaningful relationships with women; that much she did know. Okay, so she’d heard it on the office grapevine, and usually she held no truck with gossip, but this was different, wasn’t it? How could she ignore his past track record under the circumstances? This was her livelihood she was possibly playing with—hers and Neesha’s. She couldn’t afford to lose her job because she’d had sex with her boss. When Conall tired of Morgen—and she was certain he would—and moved on to the next attractive woman, where would she be then? She’d die if she had to see h
im every day at work, knowing she’d just been a temporary distraction to while the time away now and again.
‘Why did you become an architect?’ she asked him, hungry for anything—any snippet of information that she could use to point out the insurmountable differences between them—to tell him why a relationship between them just wouldn’t work. Because, God help her, he’d stirred up a wild impossible longing inside her that just wouldn’t be tamped down, despite her profound reservations on the wisdom of it.
‘My father was an architect.’ Kissing her fingers one by one, he smiled down into her eyes and made Morgen’s heart melt. ‘Even as a child I was fascinated by what he did. And when he used to drive me past the buildings he’d designed, and explain to me how he’d go about working on ideas, I was hooked. When he retired I’d already been working for him for about ten years, so I was happy to take over the reins. His partner James Stoughton had retired a year earlier, so I was really the logical choice.’
‘And it didn’t faze you? The responsibility of taking over your father’s firm?’
Seeming amused by her question, Conall grinned. ‘No. I knew I could do it. Why should it faze me?’
‘You’ve obviously never been hampered by a lack of confidence. When did you become so sure?’ Her hungry gaze roved his face, examining one impossibly handsome feature after another, finding no flaws. Even the tiny lines fanning out from beside his eyes and the deeper grooves bracketing his mouth were fascinatingly compelling to Morgen.
‘I’ve never really thought about it.’ Frowning at her, Conall cupped her face between his hands. ‘Why so many questions, hmm?’
‘We’ve just made love.’ Lifting her shoulders, Morgen tried to ignore the sudden longing that was sweeping relentlessly through her body all over again. ‘I hardly know anything about you. That doesn’t seem right, somehow.’
‘What does seem right is you and me together like this. When I’ve made love to you again you can ask me all the questions you want…deal?’
As his mouth hovered bare inches from hers, his passionate words intoxicating her and for the moment driving out her fears, Morgen was powerless to do anything else but agree. ‘Deal,’ she whispered as his lips descended.
CHAPTER NINE
FEELING like a schoolgirl creeping out of the dorm at midnight for a snack, when everyone else was fast asleep, Morgen pushed open the door of the airy modern office, almost dizzy with relief when she saw that she was clearly one of the first to arrive. All was quiet, save for the distant hum of recently switched-on computers down the hall, and in her personal domain—the domain she was sharing with Conall—everything was just as they’d left it on Friday night.
Quickly hanging up her coat, then unpacking her sandwiches and shoving them into a desk drawer, she planted herself on her chair and with her hands pressed up against her temples gave herself a few moments to recoup.
She’d slept with her boss, and it had been a magical never-to-be-forgotten experience, but today she had to work with the man and try to pretend it had never happened. Because when she’d woken on Sunday morning the space in the bed beside her had been ominously empty. No note, no ‘see you later’ kiss—nothing. He’d left without so much as a by your leave. Taken what he’d wanted and gone. For the sake of her own self-respect, she now had to keep a particularly cool head. Not let him see that his desertion in the early hours of the morning had left her hurt and confused, even though she’d guessed that that was probably the way it was going to be.
It was too late now for recriminations; that much was clear. The deed was done and she had to accept the consequences. At twenty-nine years old, a divorced woman with a six-year-old child, Morgen was no wide-eyed innocent. She knew how things worked in the world of office relationships. Basically, you got involved with a colleague at your peril—because sooner or later your personal relationship would start to infringe on your work. One of you would end up leaving if things turned sour—or working life could turn into a nightmare.
Neither was a scenario that Morgen particularly wanted to contemplate, so she would assure Conall that she wasn’t about to make any claims on him or make him feel awkward in any way, and no doubt he would breathe a grateful sigh of relief. All that talk about transferring permanently to London had clearly been just that—talk. Most men would say what they thought a woman wanted to hear after they’d made love.
Morgen sighed into her hands. If only he had been a man of honour, as she’d hoped he’d be. Walking out on her on Sunday morning had been pretty low. He didn’t deserve to get off scot-free just because sleeping with her clearly meant nothing to him.
Still, it was pointless getting herself all worked up about it. She couldn’t see how it would serve her at all. No: if she got even the smallest opportunity today, she’d force herself to tell Conall that it was okay. He wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around her, or feel he’d taken advantage. She was a grown-up and she would act like one. Whatever the fall-out from Saturday night, Morgen told herself she’d handle it. Even if her heart ached because she’d believed him when he’d said that he wanted to see her again, that he was transferring back to the London office—that she was the nicest thing that had happened to him in a long time.
Voices in the corridor made her sit up smartly and reach for the pile of work in her in-tray, but her glance gravitated automatically to the door as Conall swept into the office, closely followed by his colleague Richard Akers.
‘Good morning, Miss McKenzie.’
The formality of his tone hardly surprised her, but it still hurt. Silently acknowledging it was probably for the best, Morgen felt her emotions thrown into further turmoil when she saw him wink conspiratorially, one corner of his mouth kicking up in the suggestion of a smile. Her heart did a cartwheel.
‘Morning.’ Addressing her response to both men, she wasn’t surprised that Richard Akers barely glanced at her. Instead he preceded Conall into his office, his dour face unsmiling. The man had a reputation for being of a bit of a sourpuss, but for once Morgen didn’t let it worry her. She was too busy walking on air because Conall had winked at her. Pathetic.
The meeting with Richard dragged on for two interminable hours, during which time Conall had to hand it to the man for surely being the champ at making mountains out of molehills. No wonder Derek Holden had been driven to drink if Richard had been his main point of contact day to day!
He’d started off the day feeling eager and optimistic, but now he felt distinctly ratty and in dire need of at least two large mugs of Morgen’s excellent black coffee. Not to mention an even greater need to see the woman herself. That was if she was even speaking to him.
He could have kicked himself for leaving early on Sunday morning, without waking her up to say goodbye. If he’d wanted to give her the impression he was some kind of heartless lothario, playing fast and loose with her feelings, then no doubt he had succeeded. His actions had been almost automatic, he was ashamed to admit, but he’d also felt an absurd sense of panic that his life was suddenly taking a direction he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He’d needed to walk and think, and then walk some more. Exercise always helped to get his head together, he found.
He’d spent the whole day trying to straighten out his thoughts. By the time evening had rolled around he’d pretty much made up his mind that he was going to give a relationship with Morgen a proper chance. Having reached that momentous decision, Conall had discovered an urgent need to ring her and let her know that Saturday night had surpassed all his expectations about making love with her. Unfortunately, Morgen hadn’t been in when he rang, and even though he’d persisted late into the evening to try and contact her, her phone had just rung on, unanswered. It had irked him that she didn’t even have an answer-machine to pick up a message, and he’d resolved to speak to her about that just as soon as he had the chance.
Consequently he’d spent the rest of Sunday wondering where she was all this time—and who with? He knew he was falling for her hard
, but right now he had no intention whatsoever of pulling back. Instead he was absolutely resolved to see how things might pan out, for once in his life willing to let a relationship with a woman run its course without anticipating a break-up. My, my…how the mighty are fallen.
The sight that met his eyes when Conall stepped into the outer office had his mouth splitting in a grin from ear to ear. Morgen’s very cute, very shapely rear end, hugged by her slim black skirt, was wriggling beneath her desk as she apparently searched for something.
‘Need any help?’
The sound of Conall’s deeply amused rich tones had Morgen bumping her head on the underside of her desk in shock. Feeling her face flame red, she moved out of harm’s way and quickly rose to her feet.
Her dark hair was yet again escaping from the confines of its loose knot, drifting across her heated face in feathery wisps of silk. The desire that had seized Conall’s body at the sight of her delightful derrière beneath the desk became almost painful.
‘I was looking for my fountain pen.’ Raising the slim gold pen aloft for him to view, before placing it back on the desk, Morgen struggled to conceal her embarrassment. Of all the undignified moments for him to walk in and find her… ‘It was a present from Neesha and I didn’t want to lose it.’
‘I can understand that.’ Moving in closer, Conall reached out to touch her hair.
Jerking back in surprise, Morgen wiped her palms down her skirt, then nervously tucked her blue silk blouse more securely into her waistband to cover her confusion.
‘I was just about to come in and make you some coffee. I didn’t get a chance earlier, when Richard Akers was with you.’
‘Well thank God he’s gone now.’ Conall winced. ‘That man could bore for England.’
Morgen tried to smile, but somehow her facial muscles wouldn’t work. He overwhelmed her, that was the trouble—scattered her thoughts with just a glance. But she could hardly afford to have her wits scattered when he’d clearly demonstrated by leaving early on Sunday morning that she had just been a diversion for him…nothing more. Long years without knowing a man’s touch had left her vulnerable to the first man she’d really been attracted to since Simon, and now she had to pay the price. If only he wouldn’t stand there looking at her, with that sexy little smile of his playing havoc with her senses and driving her heart wild.