A Physical Affair

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A Physical Affair Page 11

by Lynsey Stevens


  The lift doors slid silently open and the object of Keira’s recurring tortured thoughts stood before her, framed in the aperture.

  In simply a split-second she knew her well-intentioned rationalisation of their indiscreet interlude those short weeks ago exploded into a million meaningless fragments.

  She heard once more the sensual sound of the material of his trousers rasping against her nylons as his leg slid between hers. She felt again the solid strength of his broad chest, his arms wrapped possessively around her.

  Remembering, her breasts swelled beneath the thin cotton of her tailored shirt, her nipples throbbing sensitively as they responded, and she lifted the sheaf of papers in her hand in an effort to disguise their disconcerting perfidy.

  And his mouth. She was almost lost in the recollected sensations of the seductive excitement of his lips moving on hers. Keira felt herself groan inside, part electrifying recall and part painful reminder.

  That embrace had been no figment of her fanciful imagination. It was as real as he was, standing before her, over six feet of charismatic male magnetism.

  Her heartbeats raced and for one wildly unrestrained moment she wanted only to fall literally into his arms, lose herself in the exhilaration of their physical attraction.

  Then reality was thankfully restored and she took a grip on her impetuous impulses. That they’d meet somewhere, some time, in this building, had been unavoidable. At least now the intoxicating ‘any moment now’ could fade into the prosaic ‘been and gone’.

  Then, to her consternation, Eden stepped into the cubicle to join her, and its spaciousness suddenly diminished with her misguided justification.

  While part of Keira, the blatantly physical sensation section she seemed to have trouble quelling these days, stood on attentive alert, her conscious mind absurdly demanded to know why he wasn’t using his exclusive penthouse lift.

  ‘You have a very expressive face,’ he remarked softly, and Keira’s eyes rose to meet his.

  ‘Really?’ she stated, thrown conversationally off balance for a moment before she recovered her poise. ‘No doubt you’ll tell me what you thought I was thinking.’

  ‘Why isn’t he using the executive lift?’ He repeated her silent speculation almost verbatim and, taken aback by his perception, Keira shrugged off-handedly.

  ‘It’s your building.’

  ‘Yes, it is that.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘And the implication is that as I’m the king of this particular castle I can use any part of my kingdom I choose to.’

  Or anyone, Keira’s fertile mind expanded, setting off a titillating trail of tantalising memories that only served to raise her ire. And that it was directed at herself didn’t dim her ill-humour at all. She couldn’t prevent her stormy grey eyes from raking him. And the king would so enjoy the divine droit de seigneur, she mused testily.

  Eden’s dark eyebrows rose. ‘Now that was an interesting thought.’ He raised his firm chin and his lips twitched into an almost-smile. ‘Perhaps I should take you up on that.’

  ‘On what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t you? I think you do.’

  ‘If you consider yourself so good at guessing games then perhaps you should put your talent to better use,’ Keira said acidly. ‘On the horses, maybe?’ She arched a scathing brow.

  ‘Gambling? A mug’s game. Although I’ll admit it has some entertainment value.’

  ‘Yes. I saw you being entertained at the last Melbourne Cup.’

  ‘You were there?’ he asked, leaning casually on the chrome handrail that skirted the cubicle.

  His immaculate pale grey jacket opened to display a matching waistcoat over a pale blue shirt, and his maroon tie bore a crest Keira couldn’t identify. But there was one thing she did recall. Her mind flashed her a vivid picture from that afternoon in her office, of her trembling fingers fumbling to unbutton his waistcoat.

  And, dear lord, she yearned to do it again. Run her fingertips over the hard muscles beneath his silk shirt, slip them inside to…

  Keira swallowed and patted agitatedly at some fine tendrils of hair that had escaped her chignon and were teasing her skin. At least, she told herself it was those wayward strands.

  More scenes played in her mind’s eye. Eden’s lips on the spot where her fingers now brushed… She moved her position hastily to disguise the shivers of pleasure her memories were evoking.

  But he was looking at her, waiting for her reply. What had he said? She swallowed again and angrily chastised herself.

  ‘At the Melbourne Cup? No, I wasn’t there. I saw you on the television coverage.’ Some of her ire overflowed to centre on him. He was to blame, she told herself irrationally, and her anger loosened her tongue. ‘You were with the current Miss Australia, I believe,’ she added and then wished she could have bitten back the revealing postscript.

  ‘You have a good memory,’ he said easily.

  ‘And no doubt you’d forgotten.’

  ‘No. What red-blooded man could forget such an attractive young woman?’

  Fingers of pain seemed to wrap around Keira’s heart and she tore her gaze from his in case he read the anguish she suspected was all too visible in their smoky depths.

  ‘Another instance of things not being quite what they seemed. It was part of a promotion for charity,’ he continued, and Keira, in command of herself once more, looked up. ‘We stood about and made fascinating small talk while the cameras rolled. Then she went off with her very attentive boyfriend and I went down to place a couple of bets. For entertainment’s sake,’ he added, and Keira could have sworn his blue eyes twinkled.

  Whatever happened, it reduced her knees to water and caused a rather different sort of pain to swell in her breast. In fact it was more pleasure than pain, she admitted, as it spread like wildfire, stirring in the pit of her stomach and reminding her again just how physically attracted to this man she was.

  ‘I lost,’ he said and, totally disconcerted, Keira blinked inanely at him.

  ‘My bets on the Cup,’ he explained. ‘So my guesses don’t always strike true. But then again, I didn’t get to see the horses’ faces.’

  Keira felt her lips tighten. He was so enjoying getting his amusement at her expense, she told herself, while part of her demanded to know why her sense of humour deserted her when she was with him.

  As she sought a cutting rejoinder she sensed him move and her startled gaze rose. He’d pushed himself upright and as if in slow motion his hand reached out to follow the path of her own fingers only moments before.

  He touched one soft curl of her hair, lifted it, his eyes narrowed now as they centred on the curve of her neck where the errant wisp had rested. Gently he tucked it back into place and his fingers then trailed over her bare skin.

  Keira’s senses came alive, and just as her perfidious body began to respond she made herself jerk away from him, her papers falling from her suddenly nerveless fingers in the process.

  Pages scattered about them on to the carpeted floor of the lift and they bent down as one to gather them up. Their fingers reached together, touched, and a jolt of electricity seemed to arc between them. They both stilled, their gazes locked, and Keira saw and recognised the same flame of passion in his darkened eyes. The fire of desire was burning furiously within them both.

  Keira gulped a breath, knowing she had to douse the blaze before it took hold… But her whole body seemed paralysed. Her lips parted slightly and Eden’s eyes were drawn to her mouth, then fell lower to settle on the pulse that beat wildly at the base of her throat.

  Her cream shirt afforded him a tantalising glimpse of the swell of her breasts and she had to put her other hand to the floor to steady herself as she felt herself falter vertiginously.

  Then she noticed that the hem of her salmon-coloured straight skirt had risen high on her thighs and, fumbling with her notes, she made to pull it back into some semblance of modesty. Of course this only served to draw Eden’s attention to her
nylon-clad legs, and she took a shallow breath as she forced herself shakily to her feet.

  Slowly he recovered the rest of her papers and with a wry twist of his lips he handed them back to her.

  Neither of them had noticed that the lift had stopped or that the doors had opened with a refined ding. Only when the doors began to close again did Eden move to punch the button to prevent them.

  ‘Your floor, I think, Keira.’ He motioned gallantly for her to leave and Keira barely suppressed a sigh of relief as she walked out of the lift to safety.

  However, her relief was of the short-lived variety because he moved into the hallway behind her.

  Keira’s step faltered and she turned to face him. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked, and then mentally winced. She had no right to question the head of the corporation, regardless of what she thought of him. He was her boss, and, as she’d stated before, this was his building.

  ‘The same place you are, I imagine.’ He raised his arm and flicked back his pale blue cuff to glance at his wristwatch. ‘And we’re five minutes late.’

  ‘Late?’ Keira repeated. ‘Late for what?’

  ‘For our meeting. Two p.m. in the conference room.’ Keira frowned.

  ‘It would appear you didn’t receive my memo.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. There’s been no memo. Not that I’ve seen, anyway.’

  ‘Megan sent it down to Denver’s office yesterday and I could scarcely see him forgetting to pass it on to you and the rest of the staff.’

  ‘I’m sorry. There’s been a mistake made somewhere,’ Keira said hurriedly. ‘If you’d care to go along to the conference room I’ll tell everyone you’re here. If that’s all right with you,’ she added as evenly as she could, and he nodded.

  ‘I suppose it will have to be, won’t it? I’ll see you in there.’

  With that he left her and Keira spent a few seconds staring after him before she was galvanised into action. Racing through the office she sent everyone after Eden. However, when she stuck her head into Roxie’s office her assistant wasn’t at her desk.

  ‘Damn!’ Keira said under her breath and continued into her own office next door. She’d have to leave a message for Roxie to tell her to join the meeting as soon as possible.

  Keira lifted some papers on her desk but could see no memo. She found a notepad, but before she could put pen to paper Roxie herself appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Hi, Keira! How did it go with the copy-editing?’ The other girl strolled into Keira’s office.

  ‘Oh, Roxie. Thank heavens. I thought you might have gone out. Where were you?’

  ‘Even I need to go to the little girls’ room occasionally,’ Roxie commented wryly. ‘I might have known something drastic would happen if I left the confines of my desk. What’s up? Good grief!’ she exclaimed. ‘That threatened distributors’ strike hasn’t come to fruition, has it?’

  ‘No. Almost worse than that. Did you see a memo about a meeting today with Eden Cassidy?’ Keira moved quickly around her desk as the other girl shook her head.

  ‘Are you kidding? If I’d seen a memo from the big white chief himself I’d have claimed it and had it framed as a memento.’

  ‘Heaven only knows what happened to it. It was supposed to have come down yesterday.’

  ‘Don’t tell me we’ve missed seeing Eden Cassidy?’ Roxie asked as she went to sit down.

  Keira forestalled her by taking her arm and turning her around. ‘No time to sit, Roxie. Let’s go. They’re waiting for us in the conference room.’

  ‘Who are?’

  ‘The rest of the crew. And Eden Cassidy.’

  ‘Eden Cassidy. Here? In the flesh? Why didn’t you say so? My prayers are answered.’ Roxie gazed momentarily skywards. ‘So what are we lingering here for, Keira? Come on, let’s start the stampede.’

  Suppressing a giggle that threatened to burst from her at Roxie’s humour, Keira felt some of her tension abate just a little. The shadow of a smile still lit her face as she opened the door but it faded quickly as she led the way into the large room where the rest of the staff and Eden Cassidy awaited them.

  She refused to allow herself to look directly at Eden for fear the shadows of those heady moments in the elevator would be clearly visible on her face for all to see. Yet still she couldn’t prevent the telltale colour washing her warm cheeks.

  ‘Ah, Keira.’ Denver stood up from his position at Eden’s right hand. ‘Some wires seem to have managed to get crossed somewhere along the track.’

  ‘Yes,’ Keira replied without intonation as she slid quickly into her seat, ‘apparently they have.’

  ‘No matter. We’re all here now.’ Eden waved recriminations aside. ‘Let’s get down to business. Are we on track for publication date?’

  For the next two hours Eden questioned them relentlessly about every facet of the progress of the magazine and, although they could have continued, promptly at five o’clock Eden drew the meeting to a close. There were thankful sighs as chairs scraped and paper rustled as they all began to file out of the conference room.

  ‘Keira. One minute.’ Eden’s deep voice stopped Keira as she made to follow the rest of the staff.

  As Keira’s step faltered, Denver and Roxie turned back, their facial expressions registering surprise. Roxie recovered enough to give Keira an audacious wink before she continued on her way, while Denver’s thin lips tightened in a far less indulgent manner. Keira’s flush was the resulting sum total of both of their so obvious sentiments.

  ‘Yes, Mr Cassidy?’ Keira projected her voice to reach the ears of the retreating Denver Clarkson. At least she knew she could explain the real situation to Roxie later.

  Eden folded his arms casually as he leant back against the conference table.

  He didn’t immediately break the silence, making her feel uneasily aware of their isolation, and that same revealing pulse began to beat at the base of her throat.

  ‘Were you wanting some more information?’ Keira asked quickly, and he grimaced.

  ‘Yes. In a manner of speaking, I was.’ His dark gaze held hers. ‘Have dinner with me, hmm?’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘DINNER?’ Keira repeated, completely taken aback. Whatever she had expected him to ask her, it certainly wasn’t that.

  ‘Dinner. Tonight.’ His deep voice played over her, rousing her senses and lowering her defences.

  Its huskiness stirred her fertile imagination and she could almost smell the faint scent of roses, see a secluded table for two, an unobtrusive waiter pouring wine. And catch the dark, glimmering sparkle of Eden’s eyes in the flickering candlelight.

  Why not? persuaded one part of her, the part that housed her traitorous longings. Why not grasp the chance and run with it? Experience all that he offered for as long as it lasted? At least then she’d have the memories to savour when it was over.

  When it was over, reiterated her level-headed conscious mind.

  A brief affair. Romantic. Exciting. And physically satisfying. She was so very sure it would be that.

  So why not? Her incited nerve-endings increased threefold the intoxicating temptation to accept his invitation. Yes, it would be a mutually satisfying affair. But an affair for all that. With her boss.

  ‘Well, Keira?’ he prompted, and Keira drew her wildly conflicting thoughts into some semblance of order, her grey eyes meeting his.

  ‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  Keira shrugged. ‘Both.’

  ‘Because of the gossip?’

  ‘No. Yes.’ She fidgeted with her papers, betraying her agitation.

  ‘No one need know,’ he said easily, and Keira gave a soft, sceptical laugh.

  ‘Someone would find out, believe me. They always do.’

  ‘And you’re going to allow what other people think to govern your life, what you do and don’t do?’ he asked with an ominous quietness.

  ‘That makes me sound spineless, and I’m not.’
Keira lifted her chin boldly.

  It was his turn to give an incredulous laugh. ‘Spineless would not be a term that would come to my mind to describe you, Keira. But perhaps you are a little too anxious about what other people think.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t help that. I do care about how others see me. And I dislike immensely the idea that the general consensus might be that I schemed to get this job.’

  Eden made a negating movement with his hand. ‘We’ve been through this before. And I can assure you that anyone who knows me would realise I don’t make a habit of allowing my—’ he paused ‘—personal life to influence a decision that might reflect badly on my business. I’m no philanthropist, nor am I a philanderer. You wouldn’t have this position if I didn’t think you were more than qualified to do it. So shall we acknowledge that point as being on the record?’

  ‘Maybe I don’t want to join the queue…’

  A frown of irritation settled on Eden’s brow.

  ‘Or perhaps I just don’t want to go with you,’ Keira continued quickly, her gaze holding his momentarily before her eyes fell.

  ‘Don’t you?’ he asked, the softly spoken words reaching into her soul, twisting, negating her small spurt of bravado.

  His eyebrows rose mockingly at her hesitation and she felt her anger flare. ‘All right. If things were different, well, I’d consider accepting. But as it is I’m not going to,’ she finished with conviction.

  ‘What are you really afraid of, Keira?’ he asked imperiously. ‘Public opinion? Or yourself?’

  Her grey eyes rose to meet his again. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about the way we strike sparks off each other. The way the air between us almost ignites with the electrical charge we generate.’ He gave a quick derisive smile. ‘For some reason it seems to alarm you. I repeat, what are you afraid of?’

 

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