Sex, Lies & Her Impossible Boss

by Jennifer Rae

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this last night?’

  ‘I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.’

  ‘Worry about it? Why would I worry about it? It’s all I’ve ever wanted. The chance to prove myself in the place that I couldn’t get a start? Why would I worry about that?’

  He’d known last night. Before they’d had sex. He’d known that this would end before it had a chance to begin.

  ‘You don’t have to go. I’ve decided to let you keep your show on here if you want.’ Cash’s eyes didn’t display the warmth they had earlier today and it was making her feel frightened. What was he saying?

  ‘You’re keeping my show on?’ Her voice came out as a squeak. No. Not this. Not again. Faith jumped up off the bed. Not now. Not after what they’d done. Please, don’t let him be this man. She wasn’t sure she could handle it if he were this man.

  ‘If you want to stay.’

  ‘And what then? Do we...do more of this? Is having sex with you part of the contract?’

  ‘Faith. I thought we sorted all that out. I’m not offering you this so you’ll sleep with me.’

  ‘Yet you’re offering me this just after you slept with me. Not before...’ she held up a finger to him as she started pacing the room ‘...but after. When you knew what I’d do.’

  ‘Faith...’ Cash slid out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around his bottom half. He looked beautiful. Strong and solid and beautiful but what he was offering was anything but.

  ‘No, don’t say my name. You don’t deserve to say my name. This was “just sex” for you, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’

  ‘Liar. You are a liar. You knew about this. You knew Grant wanted me back in England but you didn’t want me to go. Not until you finished with me anyway. Not until you used me up—then you could spit me out.’

  ‘It’s not like that...’

  He reached for her but she pulled away from his hand. Satisfaction strangely settled over her. Relief rushed through her. Of course this would happen. She’d known it all along. It was too good to be true.

  ‘Then what is it like? What do you want from me? Because I’ll tell you what I want. More. More than just sex. I want you. I told you that. I told you I wanted more.’

  Cash didn’t move. He just looked at her and Faith felt the fear creep over her again. He knew what she wanted. This was his chance to tell her that he wanted her too. That he wanted her to stay with him—not because of the show but because he liked her. As much as she liked him. But he didn’t.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Cash swallowed. What would she do? When Grant had contacted him yesterday afternoon he’d argued and fought and told the man he was making a mistake. He wanted Faith here. But then Grant had said something. That this was Faith’s opportunity to get what she’d always wanted and he realised it was true. Doing her show in the UK would lead to much more than being a presenter on a local breakfast programme or even doing her show here. The Australian market was too small for any real success. And right then he’d realised he’d lost her before he’d even had a chance to have her.

  ‘This is your chance, Faith. Your chance to have everything you ever wanted.’ A shot of something painful passed through Cash’s body when he said the words.

  ‘I know. This is what I’ve always wanted.’ She looked away. She didn’t seem overly excited and that idea made his heart start to beat faster. Maybe she’d refuse. Maybe she’d want to stay. With him. Maybe she’d choose him.

  ‘It means recognition. Awards.’

  She shifted but didn’t look at him so he looked away. The way she talked it was as if she was warming up to the idea. She was considering her options and he feared that he knew which way she was leaning. Another woman choosing something other than him. Nine years might have passed but it still felt the same. Like a rusty knife twisting in his guts.

  ‘You’ll have the career you always wanted.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Cash felt the bile rise to his throat. She’d made her choice. He’d stupidly thought that last night had meant something. That it was more than just sex. They’d connected. They’d seen each other. But when she looked back at him he knew. It had just been sex.

  * * *

  ‘So you’re taking it?’ he asked through gritted teeth.

  Faith tried to tell him with her eyes. Ask me to stay. Tell me you feel the way I do. Tell me that last night wasn’t just sex. Please.

  ‘Yes. I have to take it. It’s everything I’ve worked for.’

  Cash nodded and she thought she saw something in his eyes. Something sad but it passed just as quickly as it had come.

  ‘But thank you,’ she said, her eyes not leaving his.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For showing me what it feels like to be made love to.’

  He didn’t speak, he just watched her and she watched him until seconds turned into minutes and then he gathered his clothes from the floor where she’d flung them last night and held them in his arms.

  ‘Your show is good, Faith. It just needs more direction. If you want me to, I can help you with it.’

  The show. That was all this was about. That was all he wanted. Not her. It had never been her. And she’d had enough. He’d said she mattered; well, now it was time for him to prove it.

  ‘Forget the show—I don’t care about the show. I want to know what you have to offer me. You.’

  He breathed deeply and his chest filled. She watched it before returning to his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that she was now sure she was in love with.

  ‘I’ve told you what I can offer you.’

  Faith nodded. Help with her show—that was what he was offering her. That was all he’d meant when he’d said he was here for her. For the show. That was all.

  ‘That’s not enough for me.’

  * * *

  This time when Cash reached for her he wouldn’t let her move away. He gripped her shoulders and made her look at him. He needed her to understand. He needed to tell her what he was thinking. Even if it was too honest. Even if she walked away and chose to leave, she had to know.

  ‘Look at me, Faith. Listen to me.’ She looked at him then and he saw her. Despite the way she jutted her chin out he knew he’d hurt her. She’d wanted more. ‘I want you, Faith, but I can’t fall for you...’

  She looked away.

  ‘Look at me.’

  She turned back to meet his eyes. Defiantly. ‘I know that.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like you...’

  ‘I don’t want you to like me.’

  ‘Or that I don’t care about you...’

  ‘I don’t want you to care.’

  ‘Faith, stop. Listen to me. Stop talking and listen.’

  Her eyes finally met his. There were no tears there, just resolution. As if she’d finally accepted it. The way her blue eyes had turned soft was killing him.

  ‘I can’t fall for you. You don’t understand. If I do...if I fall for you...I’ll never recover.’ And that was the truth. He couldn’t let this mean anything more because he couldn’t bear to have his heart broken all over again. He knew what she was going to choose; he knew it wouldn’t be him and it hurt. It hurt like hell and all he wanted her to do was to deny it. To tell him that she chose him and that he was allowed to fall.

  ‘I don’t want you to fall for me, Cash. I want to go home and do my show.’

  He let her go, watching her eyes the whole time. Deny it, he screamed at her with his mouth shut. Change your mind. Choose me. But she didn’t. So he gathered his clothes, got dressed and left.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Faith had been gone for three weeks, two days and seven hours and Cash hadn’t managed to go any more than five minutes without thinking about
her. The way she teased him. The way she wrapped herself around him when they made love. The way she looked at him the way she always did. As if they were speaking without saying a word. He missed her so much it hurt.

  Even though he’d spent every spare minute surfing or running he was never tired enough to sleep through the night. She’d left. Without even a backward glance. Sex had become just sex and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He’d expected more. He’d expected a fight or a tearful declaration of her love but...nothing. She’d packed her things and left to pursue her dreams. Without him. Rejection stung, but it hurt even more this time. This time there was more to it. She hadn’t left him for anyone else—there was no one for him to hate. She’d just left, and somehow that felt infinitely worse.

  His phone buzzed. He ignored it. Work had become just that lately. Work. All he wanted to do was get this station back on track and get back to the States. Escape to where he didn’t have to think about any of this and where he could go back to being what he was. Numb. He wasn’t even sure any more why he’d come home. Some part of him thought the reason he’d agreed to this had something to do with Charlie. Even before Faith had told him he shouldn’t have given up on his relationship with his brother, he knew that his unfinished business was why he felt the way he did. Numb.

  Numb until he met Faith. Until her touch made him feel again. When she’d kissed him the first time she’d told him she liked him. He’d thought she was trying to manipulate him. But she hadn’t been. She’d been honest with him. From the start. She’d told him what she wanted. She hadn’t hid her feelings. Even at the burlesque he knew what she wanted. He’d always thought he was the honest one but he realised now that he hadn’t been honest from the start.

  Faith was right. He’d been scared. Ever since Jess broke his foolish heart nine years ago. He’d been too scared to face his brother and too scared to stay on the farm and too scared to move on. Until Faith. Until she showed him what love was supposed to be like. Two people who cared about each other. Two people who didn’t have sex—they made love.

  Cash’s phone buzzed again and he picked it up. Gordon Grant. Again. Faith’s show had aired for the first time in the UK this week. He’d looked up the ratings. It had done well. It hadn’t broken any records, but for a market that was usually famously conservative—she’d done extremely well.

  ‘How are the ratings?’ Gordon started the conversation as he did every other. ‘Have we got any more advertisers?’

  ‘No,’ said Cash. ‘They want more local content before committing.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  Cash clenched his fist. Normally he’d be itching for this argument. He’d baffle Grant with the brilliance of his knowledge of rating and figures and programming and industry movements, but right now he couldn’t give a stuff. He didn’t want to think about TV. None of that was important. None of that mattered.

  ‘How’s Faith doing?’

  Grant paused. ‘Faith?’

  Cash gritted his teeth. ‘Yes, Faith. Faith Harris. Her new Sexy London show started over there this week.’

  ‘Oh, the numbers weren’t great. We’re bringing in a comedian to co-host next week.’

  ‘You’re what?’

  ‘Something like that. I’m not sure. It’s not been a great earner for us to be honest and we’ve just heard a pitch for a new sports show that David Beckham’s been linked to.’

  Cash’s blood hissed. ‘You dragged her back over there to change the format on her? Then get rid of her?’

  ‘That’s the TV biz, Anderson—you know that.’

  He knew that. He knew what a soul-sucking industry this was and he knew that eventually it would destroy Faith, the way it had almost destroyed him.

  He’d spent the last nine years thinking it was OK to not speak to his brother. He’d spent the last nine years avoiding intimacy with anyone. Nine years thinking love didn’t exist. But now he knew the truth and it had been Faith who’d taught him.

  ‘I’ll tell you what I know, Grant. Creating quality content is not about ratings and advertisers. It’s about finding people who are passionate about what they do. It’s about finding people who love what they do and letting them do it without interfering. By being there for them when they need it but allowing them to be themselves without thinking you know everything.’

  Grant paused. ‘Are you drunk, Anderson?’

  Right then he did feel drunk, but then he supposed that was how love felt. It had been a long time since he felt it—but drunk did seem the right word to describe how he was feeling.

  ‘If I am, I don’t ever want to sober up.’

  Without saying another word, Cash clicked off his call with Grant. There were only two calls he needed to make right now—one to his brother and the other to the airport. He didn’t want to be content. He wanted to fall—even if it meant he was going to get hurt; he wasn’t scared any more.

  * * *

  ‘Do you have any idea how hard you are to track down?’

  Faith had fallen asleep. The drinks she’d consumed at the station’s Christmas party last night had allowed her brain to fuzz and she’d snuggled down into the warm sheets and drifted off. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, as she had almost every night for the past three weeks. She’d thought the ache in her chest would have eased by now but it was still there. Insistently knocking on her chest. Wanting to be let in.

  She’d been dreaming when the knock sounded on the door and as she opened it the subject of her dreams—or nightmares, if she remembered the running and the calling and the falling and the crying—was there.

  Scowling.

  Dark look, dark suit and a dark heart.

  Cash’s eyebrows lowered. He moved his feet wider apart and pushed his hands in his pockets. Faith’s sleepiness evaporated and her heart thumped in her chest. A slow procession of cold prickles raised up over her head. Was she still asleep? Him being here wasn’t right. He looked out of place and she couldn’t help thinking she’d manifested him here out of pure desire.

  ‘Cash.’ Faith’s heart was beating so hard it was hurting. She wanted to touch him. To reach out and feel his skin and see if he was real. But she didn’t. She stood still and looked at him with her mouth open.

  It was him.

  Here.

  Standing at the door of her flat, waiting for her to say something else.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I was in town and thought I’d look you up.’

  Faith’s heart stopped beating and her heart fell to the floor. ‘Why?’

  ‘I missed you.’ She didn’t miss the suggestion in his voice. She didn’t miss the heat in his eyes. He was ‘looking her up’. In other words—he wanted to have sex.

  Fire heated her blood. How dared he? After everything. After the way he made love to her as if she meant something to him. After the way he held her and whispered into her hair. The way he slipped his fingers through hers and pulled her closer—kissing her forehead and her eyes before finally planting a tender kiss on her lips. The way he looked at her. Long looks that spoke of more than...just sex.

  Faith gripped the door hard, then swung it as hard as she could.

  But Cash was too quick. His foot slid into the door frame and the door swung open again.

  ‘What are you doing here? Do you expect me to just lay down and let you have your way because you’re here and you’re horny? I’m not your tart.’

  He pulled one hand out of his pocket and placed it on the door and she noticed his cheeks slash with colour.

  ‘Then what are you, Faith? Because I’d like to know. What the hell are you to me?’

  He was angry and the gruff way he spoke made Faith’s stomach flip. His voice sounded raw, close to the edge. Emotional.

  ‘We have noth
ing more to say to each other, Cash. We said everything when I was back home.’

  ‘Right before you left?’

  Faith noticed the vein in Cash’s neck pop. It throbbed. His knuckles were white on the door. ‘I had to leave. I was offered a job. You know that.’

  ‘I know that.’ He watched her eyes, one of his flicking to the other. The green slash in his left eye glinted.

  ‘And I had to leave.’

  He was silent. Faith let her eyes wander over him. His hair was longer. It curled a little at his ears. She wanted to run her hands through it. She wanted to put her palm on his cheek and let him rest in it. She wanted to take away that look in his eyes and massage his shoulders until they slumped. She wanted to make love to him.

  Cash lifted a hand and touched the side of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. The heat from that small touch had her swaying towards him.

  ‘You were drooling,’ he said quietly.

  Faith’s hand flew up to her mouth to wipe away the dried saliva that pooled there. Heat flashed through her whole body. Drooling. Like a dog. Like a pathetic little puppy begging for a bone.

  Enough.

  ‘I don’t need you to wipe up my drool, or come over here and have sex with me just because you’re horny. I don’t need you at all. I am perfectly happy to be on my own.’

  He just looked at her.

  ‘I love my job.’

  He stepped closer.

  ‘Cash...’

  Her brain started to fog when a waft of his scent surrounded her. The memory of his warm skin and the way hers tingled when he kissed it wound through her brain. The gentleness of his touch and the pleasurable pain of his teeth as he nipped at her lips.

  Enough.

  ‘Stop.’ She held her palm up to his chest, not quite touching it and willing him not to touch her. She didn’t know what she’d do if he actually touched her. ‘You need to go.’

  He didn’t move and the nervous fluttering inside her grew. ‘What do you want from me? What do you want?’