by Amy Andrews
“I never wanted you to leave,” he continued, his lips tight. “I wanted to fight for our marriage. I loved you.”
Steffy refused to let the L word soften her stance. She’d made a lot of mistakes with Liam but that was in the past and he couldn’t be a part of her new life.
“I called you and texted you every day for a month, I begged you to come. I flew to Paris!” he declared, his voice lowered to an angry whisper.
Steffy nodded.
“I came home, defeated. I’ve been trying to rebuild my life. Steffy, it was my baby too—”
Steffy’s distressed whimper cut him off and he looked at her with regret in his eyes, as if he’d known he’d gone too far. She didn’t need reminding of what she’d lost.
He sighed. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been easy.”
But she just shook her head. “It’s better this way.”
Steffy moved to walk past him but Liam grabbed her arm. “We need to talk,” he said.
Steffy shook her head again. “No, we don’t. I’m pleased for you and Hope, I really am.” Or she would be anyway. It was just seeing him after all this time had stirred it all up again. But she’d decided in Paris to let Liam go for good. And she knew how much Hope loved him. “I know you’ll be very happy together. But right now—” she looked down at his hand on her arm, “—I have a date with my bed and some jetlag to conquer.”
Liam let her go. “Of course. Maybe I could come and take you out to lunch in a few days?”
Steffy knew she should tell him that she wasn’t working at Forrester anymore but she was too tired to go a few more rounds with Liam over her decision—her mother had been bad enough.
And her mind was made up.
Chapter Three
Steffy had no idea how long she’d been asleep when a banging sound woke her. It was dark and she lay in her room, unfamiliar after a year away, trying to remember where she was. It was quiet now, the noise gone, and she wondered for a moment if she’d imagined it.
Her sleep had been deep and dreamless—the sleep of the truly jetlagged, but as she lay in the strange drift between the conscious and unconscious worlds, the memory of Bill’s kiss slid into the suggestible parts of her brain and undulated through the fibers in her belly. Her lips tingled at the remembered pressure and Steffy had to suppress the urge to touch her fingers to her mouth. She could still taste him too—mint and coffee—and just thinking about the brief, hard press of his lips did funny things to her pulse.
Bill always had been an exceptionally good kisser. The man excelled at all he did.
It had been a long time since a man had kissed her. Sure, Parisian men had appreciated her style and class and had flirted in that charmingly continental way of theirs. But her father had been very protective and watchful of her, for which she’d been grateful: she simply hadn’t been interested in any of them.
But one masterful kiss from Bill Spencer had stirred something deep inside her. Maybe she was coming back to life again? If that was the case, she really needed to thank him. She’d felt so numb for so long. Even if the question of why he’d kissed her was a mystery.
The trill of her cell was sharp in the silence and she started. She reached blindly for it, groping in the dark along the edge of her bedside table, her fingers finally connecting with the sleek piece of technology. The green answer button was illuminated and she pushed it.
“Hello?”
“Steffy, it’s Bill. I’m at your door. Open up.”
Steffy frowned at the deep, demanding voice. Bill? At her door? Obviously she was still jetlagged as the message seemed to take forever to filter through. “Bill?” she asked dumbly.
“Yes. Come on, Steffy. Get your butt out of bed. I have a proposition for you.”
Steffy’s brain traitorously slid to the kiss and it was disconcerting to hear his chuckle in her ear as if he could read her mind. “Not that kind of proposition. Come on, Steffy, you won’t regret it.”
“Ah … okay,” she said sitting up. “Just give me a minute.”
“What do you need a minute for?” he asked but there was a light teasing note to his voice and she could just picture him lounging against her door, all big and broad and smiling. “I’m getting older out here waiting for you.”
But she needed to put some clothes on. After a quick shower, she’d collapsed on her bed in a pair of bikini briefs and that was it. And with the memory of their incendiary kiss tingling on her mouth she knew she had to be well and truly dressed. Maybe climbing into a chastity belt wouldn’t be a bad idea.
“Steffy?”
“Yes, I’m coming.”
She hung up, flicking on the light before leaping out of bed and quickly pulling on some leggings and a T-shirt and throwing her silky dressing gown over top. She tied it in a firm knot at her waist. She looked in the mirror—her hair was a mess but she refused to preen for him. She combed it with her fingers instead as she hurried to the door.
Her heart was racing in her chest and Steffy took a moment to collect herself before she opened the door. The last thing she wanted was to greet him all flustered and him thinking he was the reason for it.
When she finally pulled the door open she was feeling more in control. Bill stepped inside before she even had a chance to say hello.
“Bill! What the hell,” she said as he brushed past her. “You better have a very good reason for waking me up at—” she checked her watch, “—ten-thirty at night and barging into my apartment.”
“Of course I do, Steffy.” The man didn’t even look contrite. “I want you to come work for me as a sub-editor at Eye on Fashion.”
*
Bill grinned at Steffy’s look of complete surprise. It was clear to him she thought he’d lost his mind. “What?” he asked innocently.
“Have you been drinking?”
He shook his head and grinned some more. “Stone-cold sober.”
Steffy continued to stare at him, hugging her arms around her waist. He looked like he’d come straight from work, wearing the same clothes as this morning—was it only this morning she’d run into him at LAX? Her gaze dropped to the open neck of his shirt, which looked rakishly sexy.
“Are you crazy?” she asked after long moments. “I don’t know the first thing about publishing.”
Bill shrugged. “But you know a hell of a lot about fashion. The other stuff,” he said, waving a dismissive hand in the air, “can be taught.”
Steffy dropped her arms. “Oh my God. You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Bill quirked an eyebrow at her. “You should know me well enough by now to know I never joke about my magazines. Especially Eye on Fashion.”
Steffy lowered herself to the couch behind her. “Is this real or some kind of hallucinogenic jetlag dream?” Maybe the kiss they’d shared in the limo had tripped some whacky switch in her brain?
Bill approached Steffy. She was looking dazed and he needed to assure her. Perhaps he should have waited till morning, until she’d had a good night’s sleep and a chance to reset her body clock. But the idea had struck just over an hour ago and he’d never been known for his patience. Bill Spencer was a man of action.
He stood in front of her and held out his hand. “Touch me,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “It’s real.”
Bill hadn’t meant to be deliberately provocative but, by the way her large blue eyes widened as she looked up at him, he guessed he had. There was something intense lurking in those eyes and combined with the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all day, the air between them suddenly felt as thick as LA smog.
Steffy slowly shook her head, declining his offer. “I believe you.”
Bill nodded. “Good,” he said. “Then come work for me.”
Steffy shook her head—she couldn’t think when he was this close, looming over her, ever the businessman, that masculine aroma of his wrapping tentacles around her reviving libido. “Excuse me,” she said and waited for him to step back before standing and moving t
o the glass windows that looked out over the lights of LA.
Bill watched Steffy as she gazed at her view, waiting for her next move. The ball was in her court.
“Why me?” she eventually asked.
“You need a job.”
Steffy turned. “And you conveniently have a vacancy?”
Bill noticed the determined little jut of her jaw and crossed his arms. Clearly she wasn’t going to throw herself at his feet and sing his praises for rescuing her ass from the unemployment line. He liked that about her. He liked it a lot.
“I always have a vacancy for a smart, capable woman with a good business head and experience in the industry. That’s you, Steffy Forrester. That’s you in spades.”
“But what about Liam? I doubt he’s going to be happy working with his ex-wife and, frankly, the last thing I want is to be working with him. I’m trying to start anew,” she said. Then another thought occurred to her and she narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t fire someone today did you, Bill?”
Bill chuckled at Steffy’s astuteness even if it was way off the mark. They both knew he wouldn’t hesitate to sack anyone if it worked to his advantage. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ms. Forrester. I’m always looking for good people. And don’t worry about Liam you’ll be reporting directly to me.”
A little thrill ran up Steffy’s spine at Bill’s compliment but she refused to let it show. Instead she turned back to stare out the window. There was more to this, and thus far they’d both been avoiding the elephant in the room.
“Is that all this is?” she asked.
Bill admired her back view as Steffy admired her city view. She was tall and lithe and he remembered all too well how good she felt in his arms. The fact that she was clearly alluding to their kiss this morning only inflamed the memories further.
“What else is there?” he said.
Steffy breathed in slowly as the low note of his voice slithered into all her good places. She shut her eyes against the warm buzz that flooded her system.
What else? Well … there was that buzz for starters.
She turned to face him, folding her arms. “Does this have something to do with the kiss, Bill?”
Bill grinned. Steffy Forrester didn’t pull her punches. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.
Steffy tapped her fingers on her biceps. A small smile played on Bill’s mouth as his gaze captured hers, causing heat to flare between her legs and scorch her suddenly hard nipples. There wasn’t one part of her that wasn’t aware of him in a very female way.
“I’m not going to come work with you if I have to dodge your advances every other day, Bill.”
Bill feigned a hurt expression. “Steffy, Steffy, you wound me. You must have a very low opinion of me.”
Steffy ignored his theatrics. “You and I aren’t exactly strangers.”
Bill nodded. “I remember.” He’d been remembering all day—since he’d taken leave of his senses this morning, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Steffy resisted the low, insistent tug deep down inside her as she remembered too. “And if you think me being near you everyday gives you permission to grab me and kiss me whenever you want, you’d be mistaken.”
Bill nodded even though he wasn’t entirely sure who she was trying to convince. “Because that would be … wrong?” he asked hopefully.
“Because that would be sexual harassment.”
“Ah, of course. But just so you know, Steffy—” he flicked his gaze briefly down to her mouth again before returning it to her eyes, “—I’ve never kissed a woman who hasn’t been a willing participant. I don’t have to sexually harass women … if you know what I mean.”
Steffy knew exactly what he meant—it wasn’t like she’d pushed him away this morning. “Why did you kiss me?”
Bill wished he had an answer for that but, the simple fact was, he didn’t. She’d looked like she’d needed something to bolster her and it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
He shrugged. “You looked like you were about to walk into the lion’s den. I figured you could do with some color in your cheeks and something to boost your confidence.”
Steffy quirked an eyebrow. “So it was a public service?”
“You’re welcome.” He grinned. “You can thank me by coming to work for me.”
Steffy rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, Bill—”
But, like the pro he was, Bill could see she was weakening and stealthily stepped in for the kill. “Look, I promise, come work for me and there will be no more repeats of this morning. You were married to my son, Steffy, what kind of a sleaze do you think I am?”
Steffy could hear the sincerity in his voice but it wasn’t just the kiss and her libido she was worried about. She didn’t know the first thing about the publishing industry, about sub-editing. What if she failed?
She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “I don’t want to let you down, Bill. I don’t want you to regret you hired me.”
Bill shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore how much he wished he was the one biting her bottom lip. “You think I’ve gotten where I am today without having good instincts about people? I think you’ll pick it up. I think you’ll more than pick it up. In fact, I think you’ll be one of our brightest stars.”
Steffy felt a little dizzy from the praise. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to warrant Bill’s faith but she couldn’t deny how good it felt to have his support. And the man looked sexy as hell, projecting all that confidence in her direction. Heat flared in unmentionable places again, muddling her senses.
“Well? What do you say?” he prompted.
Steffy shook her head. He didn’t expect her to make a decision right now, did he? “I … I need to think about it.”
“What’s to think about?” Bill said. “You don’t have a job and I’m offering you one.”
“Bill,” she protested, raking a hand through her hair. “I’m still a little jetlagged—” not to mention a lot turned on, “—I need to have a clearer head and to look at my options.”
“Okay. Fine. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Take the next couple of days. I’ll come by Sunday night for your answer.”
Steffy shook her head quickly. Maybe a little too quickly, if Bill’s knowing smile was anything to go by. “I’ll call you.” She didn’t want him in her apartment again, all big and broad and male. And she didn’t doubt for a moment he knew it.
“Okay,” Bill said. “But if I haven’t heard from you by eight o’clock Sunday night, I will land on your doorstep again.”
Steffy shivered at the threat she heard in his voice. And it wasn’t because she was frightened. “There won’t be any need for that.”
Bill inclined his head politely even though part of him was hoping there would be cause to visit again. “Goodnight, Steffy,” he said.
Steffy nodded and followed him to the door, holding it open for him. He turned at the last moment and smiled at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth once more and lingering for a couple of seconds before returning to her face.
“Sweet dreams,” he murmured.
Steffy’s lips tingled as he walked away.
*
It was fortunate that Steffy had slept so well prior to Bill barging into her apartment because the rest of the night was a total write off.
She lay awake for two hours turning his proposal over and over in her head, looking at the pros and cons. Bill was firmly fixed in her consciousness. And in her subconscious too, apparently, because when she finally slept, her dreams were far from sweet. They were dark and tortured, with Bill cavorting in and out of them, taunting her with the perfection of his almost naked masculinity and whispering unspeakably erotic nonsense in her ear. The dreams left her achy and needy and made her acutely aware of how long it was since she’d been with a man. Of how much she missed the delicious dance as two people became one.
She woke late in the morning with a headache to accompany her bad mood. There were several missed calls on h
er phone and she knew she was going to have to return them—word was obviously out about her homecoming. But first she needed coffee. And then she needed time to consider Bill’s proposition—in the light of day and out of bed. Far, far away from the lingering pull of her dreams.
How could she work for him knowing the things she’d dreamed? How would she even be able to look at him again?
She’d never thought of Bill like that, even during the more intimate times they’d shared in the past—he’d just been a means to an end back then. And since falling in love with Liam her feelings had been entirely those of a daughter-in-law. Bill would have been the grandfather to the baby she’d lost and that was the only relationship she’d been interested in having.
But he’d kissed her. And the way he kept looking at her mouth last night … ooh la la. Steffy pressed two fingers to her lips as they fizzed in Pavlovian response. And what about those dreams? Could she work for him knowing there was an undercurrent between them? Would she be strong enough to ignore it?
Would he be good enough to let it go?
Because when Bill Spencer wanted something, he went after it with single-minded focus. She doubted he’d let the quaint little notion of honor—of not lusting after his son’s ex-wife—stand in his way if he decided he wanted her.
Which was why she couldn’t go to work for him. Old Steffy would have jumped in feet first without considering all the implications—she may have even done it for a slice of revenge against Liam. But new Steffy, the post-Paris Steffy, was a hell of a lot wiser.
And she was going to deliver them both from temptation. Bill could thank her later. Besides, there were plenty of jobs out there for a highly qualified businesswoman.
Weren’t there?
*
That afternoon, after scouring internet job sites and every national newspaper, Steffy wasn’t so sure of herself. She knew the country was going through tough economic times but nobody appeared to be hiring. Not for what she was qualified in anyway. She knew it was too early to despair, but deep down, she’d been confident of walking straight into a job.
And not just any old job; a high-paying, executive-level job, the type of position she’d held at Forrester Creations for years. She’d been prepared to expand her horizons into new areas but she hadn’t been prepared for there being nothing on the horizon.