by Nicola Marsh
Join the long line, honey.
Abby strode down the corridor that led to the kitchen, and I followed, the aroma of sugar and cinnamon and buttery goodness getting stronger with every step.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Sadness clogged my throat. Potent. Disorienting.
When she opened a door marked ‘Office’ off the corridor, I’d never been more grateful.
I couldn’t enter the kitchen right now, not when some strange nostalgia gripped me, making me yearn for a past I’d left behind a long time ago.
‘Remy’s very organised, so you’ll find everything documented in spreadsheets. Supply order forms. Current stock. Online orders. The works...’ She trailed off as I slammed the door, wishing I could do the same on the memories swamping me. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Nothing,’ I growled, annoyed that she was so insightful. ‘Continue the induction.’
‘No.’ She folded her arms, her superiority annoying me as much as the relentless memories of how much I missed Mum. ‘For some reason, being here has you rattled, and I need to know why so we can fix it.’
‘Babe, you may be many things, a shrink isn’t one of them.’ I stalked towards her, covering the short distance between us. ‘I don’t need to be fixed.’
‘I—I didn’t mean it like that.’ She took a small step back as I invaded her personal space. ‘I want this place to run smoothly while Remy’s away and if there’s a problem I want it sorted now before it affects business.’
I admired her dedication to my brother. Not many employees would give a rat’s ass about their boss’s business. But no way in hell would I stand here and be analysed by her ladyship.
‘So that’s what’s all-important to you, is it? Business?’
A tiny dent appeared between her brows, as if she didn’t understand the question, before she nodded. ‘Of course. Remy gave me a chance when my life was down the toilet. I owe him. And I won’t have you breezing in here on the pretext of helping and screwing it up.’
My respect ratcheted up further. I didn’t like many people in this world let alone respect them, so I decided to wind her up a little to detract from the flood of uncharacteristic emotions swamping me the last few minutes.
‘If you’re all business, when do you have time for pleasure?’
Her lips parted in a surprised little O and I took it a step further.
‘You do know what pleasure is?’
I leaned in, close enough to smell the sweetness of vanilla in her hair, close enough to see her porcelain skin was one hundred percent natural and unadorned by make-up, close enough to kiss her if I was so inclined.
‘Back off,’ she said, her fighting words at odds with the soft, breathy way she uttered them.
‘Make me.’ I squared my shoulders, wondering when I’d last enjoyed sparring with a woman this much.
‘You’re such a...child,’ she muttered, and I laughed at how she must’ve watered down that insult.
‘And you’re all woman.’ I leaned against a filing cabinet, knowing she’d have to push past me to get out. ‘But a prickly one. Don’t you ever lighten up?’
Anger sparked in her eyes, flecks of vibrant emerald and sizzling sapphire among the blue. ‘I haven’t got time to lighten up. I work ten-hour days here, five days a week, while attending classes one day a week to complete my apprenticeship. On Sunday, my one day off, I do extensive research to update my blog so that people will know who the hell I am if I eventually save up enough to open my own place one day.’
Her chest heaved with indignation as she tried to shove past me. ‘So why don’t you lighten the hell up and give me a freaking break?’
I should’ve felt bad for pushing her to this point. I didn’t. Because if her icy façade had turned me on, it had nothing on this outraged, furious woman.
She was spectacular.
So I calmed her down the only way I knew how.
I hauled her against me and kissed her.
I caught her off guard, her gasp of surprise all I needed to invade her mouth, my tongue taunting hers as much as my words.
I’d expected her to retreat. To possibly bite me. I didn’t expect the low moan that emanated from the back of her throat, like a primitive growl that reverberated all the way down to my soul. Or the way she pushed against me, so hard my back slammed against the filing cabinet.
The ice princess liked it rough and ready. Who knew?
I ravaged her mouth, palming her breast and tweaking a nipple as she writhed against me. Hot. Wanton. Abandoned.
If she didn’t stop, I wouldn’t be able to and, as much as I’d like to, screwing her on Remy’s desk my first day here wasn’t part of the plan.
Remy.
With an anguished groan I wrenched my mouth from hers, stunned I’d let it get this far.
What was it about this woman that made me forget boundaries let alone my own name?
‘I need to get to work.’ I pushed past her like nothing had happened and took a seat behind the desk, adjusting myself as I did so and wishing my brother had the smarts to install a shower at his workplace.
I’d never needed a cold shower so frigging badly.
Abby stared at me in open-mouthed disbelief. I knew the feeling. I couldn’t believe we’d just done that either.
‘I—you—shit,’ she muttered, shaking her head as I tried not to notice her reddened lips and her flushed cheeks, blond tendrils sticking out all over the place.
She looked like we’d done a lot more than kiss, and my cock throbbed again.
‘Don’t expect me to apologise for that,’ I said, waving her away in a cruel dismissal, like the kiss meant nothing.
When in fact I needed her to leave ASAP so I wouldn’t be tempted for a repeat. Next time, I might not be able to stop.
‘I don’t expect anything from you.’ The haughtiness was back as she tilted her chin and stared down her nose at me. ‘Not a single bloody thing.’
She slammed the door on her way out.
I didn’t blame her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Abby
IF THERE WERE awards handed out to people for the art of pretending, I’d have an entire shelf full. A room full. An entire house full. I’d be in the academy’s hall of freaking fame.
I’d done it my whole life. Pretending I liked the handcrafted silver jewellery box for my seventh birthday when I’d wanted a backyard cricket set. Pretending I liked having a fully catered disco party for my thirteenth birthday when I’d wanted to have fish and chips on the beach with my only friend. Pretending I didn’t mind having a lavish society wedding when I would’ve been happy swapping vows at the register office.
Yeah, I was an expert at pretence. A goddamn queen. Which was how I managed to get through the rest of the day, creating brioche and baguettes and pains au chocolat, like that kiss had never happened.
That kiss.
Six hours later, it still haunted me.
Powerful and commanding and so damned passionate I got damp just thinking about it.
I’d never, ever, been kissed like that.
Like stepping into a raging inferno, consumed by heat from the inside out and not giving a damn.
I’d lost it. The moment his mouth covered mine I hadn’t been able to think. Hadn’t wanted to, if I was completely honest. Because kissing Tanner King put a full stop on my old life and kickstarted my new.
I’d wanted to celebrate with Channing tonight. Instead, I’d got a brief taste of Tanner and I wasn’t disappointed. Angry at myself for letting it happen. Confused why he’d done it. And seriously peed off. But never disappointed.
God, the man could kiss.
If I was the queen of pretending, he was the master of manipulating lips.
My hand drifted upward to my mouth and a fingertip t
raced my bottom lip. I could swear it still tingled from the way he’d devoured me.
‘All locked up, Abs.’
I jumped and spun around, hoping Makayla hadn’t seen me. ‘Thanks.’
She grinned and pointed to the small table set up in the kitchen where staff took their meal breaks. ‘Why don’t you sit and tell me all about the dishy Tanner while I fix us a hot chocolate?’
‘Nothing to tell,’ I said, far too quickly, and Makayla raised a knowing brow.
‘You’ve been avoiding the office all afternoon and blushing at random times for no reason so I beg to differ, my friend.’ Makayla tittered as she performed a little pirouette, something she did often, as if to keep her dance training at the forefront of her mind. ‘Plus I just saw you staring into space and touching your lip, so I’m guessing you’re fantasising about Hot Stuff kissing you.’
‘You’re too damn perceptive for your own good,’ I muttered, but took a seat at the table anyway. ‘Make mine a double.’
‘Two giant marshmallows coming up,’ she said, busying herself at the stove. ‘Have to say, it’s nice to see you lust over a guy. In the three months I’ve been here, you haven’t mentioned anyone let alone been out on a date.’
Was I that pathetic? Considering I’d avoided men for the last twelve months since Bardley the Bastard, probably.
‘Who said I’m lusting over Tanner?’
Makayla beamed as she poured hot chocolate into two mugs. ‘Sweetie, it’s all over your face.’
‘Am I that easy to read?’
‘I’m good at reading people.’ Makayla plopped two marshmallows in each mug and headed for the table. ‘Got a ton of experience at an old job.’
Sadness downturned her mouth for a moment, like it had been a less than pleasant experience, before her signature smile was back and she visibly brightened. Makayla spent all her spare time attending dance auditions and had worked in a few theatre productions. Maybe she needed to get a read on the competition?
‘It’s probably my self-imposed year-long drought—’
‘You haven’t been with a guy in a year?’ Makayla squealed and mimicked a faint as I rolled my eyes.
‘Yeah, I’m that much of a sad case.’
It wasn’t until that moment I realised I was. Sad. My marriage might have been bland at best, but I missed the intimacy of having someone to debrief with at the end of a day. Of having a male perspective on life. Of being with a guy, even if the sex had been as lacklustre as the marriage.
Maybe that was why I’d enjoyed Tanner’s kiss so much?
Yeah, and downplaying it would make me forget it in a hurry. Not.
‘You need to get out more,’ Makayla declared, her forehead crinkled in thought. ‘A night out on the town. You and me. Drinks. Dancing. Deviously scoping out hot guys.’
‘Nightclubs aren’t really my thing—’
‘Bull.’ Makayla waggled her finger at me. ‘I’m not taking no for an answer. If you’re lusting over our new boss on the first day, you need to get laid.’
‘I’m not a guy—’
‘Girls have needs too, and after a year? Sweetie, you must be pretty damn needy.’
I laughed as Makayla wiggled her eyebrows.
‘There’s this fabulous club, the hottest dance venue in Sydney, called Embue. We’re going. Tomorrow night.’ She did another jig. ‘So get your dancing shoes on, baby, because I’m not taking no for an answer.’
I’d seen Makayla like this before, when she’d railroaded me last month into buying an exquisite rose silk scarf I couldn’t afford at The Rocks market. And before that, when she’d insisted I attend an art gallery opening that featured the weirdest nude paintings.
She wouldn’t give up until I said yes, so I sighed. ‘What kind of a weird name is Embue?’
‘It means steamy in French.’ Makayla winked and fanned her face. ‘Don’t you want to get all steamed up over some guy?’
I already was and that was the problem. Because heading out to some dark, dingy nightclub to scope out men wouldn’t make me forget Tanner and the potency of his kiss.
I’d need to meet Channing or his equivalent for that to happen and the odds were a billion to one of any guy remotely coming close to my screen idol.
But I had a feeling Makayla wouldn’t let up. She’d asked me out to go clubbing several times since she’d started working here and we’d become friends, and I’d fobbed her off with excuses of homework.
With school holidays coming up and the universities winding down, she wouldn’t buy that excuse this time.
I gave a resigned shrug. ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’
Makayla clapped her hands, excitement making her eyes glitter. ‘Two babes out to shake things up. Can’t wait.’
I could, but I needed something—maybe even someone—to distract me from this insane attraction to Tanner.
A night out could be just the thing I needed.
CHAPTER SIX
Tanner
I HAD TO hand it to my brother. He sure knew how to run a business. Le Miel turned a handy profit and had the potential to expand if the boutique next door ever accepted his generous offer to buy them out.
I’d studied the spreadsheets yesterday and today, and couldn’t find a single weak spot.
Unlike me, who’d discovered a major one: for prim, snooty women who kissed like a frigging dream.
Even now, a day and a half later, I couldn’t get that kiss out of my head. Which was plain crazy, considering the number of women I’d kissed over the years. I hadn’t been in double figures for a long while so why did Abby, with those weird azure blue eyes and her cool façade, get to me so damn bad?
So I’d done what had to be done. Avoided her. Snuck out yesterday while she’d been in the kitchen with Makayla, and locked myself away in the office all day today.
We’d exchanged civil greetings this morning, that was it. Suited me fine. I didn’t have time to be some society girl’s plaything. Her walk on the wild side to celebrate her divorce.
Not that I wasn’t interested. Sex with Abby had the potential to be phenomenal. Women coming out of a shitty marriage could go off like firecrackers.
But Remy would bust my balls if I inadvertently hurt her and she quit out of some misguided notion that any future chance meetings between us would be uncomfortable.
It had happened before, when I’d been young and dumb; had opened my first club and slept with my accountant. She’d been looking for more than a good time, despite her reassurances before things started up. When it soured she left and I’d lost the best damn accountant in the business.
No, I wouldn’t be responsible for screwing this up for Remy, not when he’d spoken so highly of Abby when I’d called him last night and first thing this morning.
I’d keep my distance. Maybe even apologise for that kiss. Remy’s business had steadily increased over the last year and, considering he recorded Abby’s progress as part of her apprenticeship, looked like his protégé had been a big part of that.
Le Miel and Remy couldn’t afford to lose Abby.
Which meant I had to keep the snake in its cage.
I glanced at the clock. After seven, when I needed to start my own work at nine. No time for a workout to ease the kinks out of my back. Sitting at a desk for twelve hours straight was for fools.
Pressing the tips of my fingers to my eyes, I did a few yoga breaths while rolling my shoulders. I heard the door open and when I opened my eyes, Abby stood in front of me, with a steaming espresso and an almond croissant.
‘You’ve been working hard all day and haven’t been out, so I thought you might like a snack?’
‘You’re an angel,’ I said, meaning it, as the pungent Brazilian brew hit my nose and I inhaled greedily. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
A faint bl
ush stained her cheeks, as if she wasn’t used to praise, and damned if I wasn’t catapulted straight back to yesterday morning when I’d kissed her.
Her blush had been deeper then, the blue of her eyes so damn crystal clear I could’ve drowned in them.
My cock hardened in agreement and I inwardly cursed. Remember Remy and Le Miel and a flourishing bottom line?
Down, boy.
She handed me the coffee and placed the plate on the desk. ‘At the risk of sounding like a nag, you shouldn’t lock yourself away in here all day and not eat.’
‘Who said I don’t have a secret stash of energy bars in the top drawer?’
She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Do you?’
‘Nah, but if it stops you nagging, I’ll say it.’
She smiled and it softened her features from pretty to breathtaking. ‘I’m heading out soon so are you okay to lock up?’
‘Sure, go head.’ I tapped my temple. ‘The alarm combo is stashed away up here.’
The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘Not sure how you can remember any new numbers when you must have a phone book’s worth stored up there already.’
I laughed, enjoying this softer side of her. ‘Did you just make fun of my little black book?’
She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. ‘A little.’
Surprised by her lighthearted sparring when I’d expected her to be gauche and standoffish after that kiss, I feigned indignation. ‘I’ll have you know my mental capacity is much less than you give me credit for, so I keep the thousands of women’s phone numbers stored in my cell.’
‘Little wonder you have such a big one—’ Her lips clamped shut and her eyes widened in horror at her gaff.
‘We are talking about my cell, right? Or are you still obsessing over my peg leg?’
The blush returned, deepening her cheeks to a rosy pink. ‘It’s been a long day. I really should go.’
‘And I really should let you.’
But neither of us moved, our gazes locked in some invisible battle of wills while electricity sparked between us.
I had to do something to break this tenuous hold she had on me before I did something monumentally stupid, like kiss her again. And not stop at a kiss this time.