The End of Faking It

by Natalie Anderson

  Okay, she’d crossed the line a little, but he’d just leapt it. ‘What sort of favours do you think I pull?’ she fired back before thinking.

  His eyes flashed, the pupils expanding so fast the piercing colours became the thinnest of circles around the burgeoning black. Riveted, she watched the myriad greens and blues narrow out. He really did have it—perfect symmetry, angular jawbones and hair that just begged to be ruffled and then gripped tight.

  The palms of her hands tingled, heated. Only it wasn’t just his hair she imagined pulling close, no, now she was pulling on hot, silky hard skin, stroking it faster and faster and—OMG where had that come from?

  She gulped back the insanity. She couldn’t be thinking that. She looked down and clamped her mouth shut, swallowing both literally and mentally, overly aware her breathing had quickened to audible—basically to panting. Again.

  Oh, please don’t let him know what she’d been thinking. She glanced back up at him. All the blue had gone from his irises leaving nothing but thin rings of green fire around those huge, black pupils. Dusky red tinged his cheekbones. She could relate. Blood was firing all round her body, pinking up all sorts of parts—her face included. But at least he wasn’t panting like some dog in heat, which she, unfortunately, was.

  He said nothing, she said nothing. But she could see it shimmering in the air between them—razor-sharp attraction. Urges at their most basic. Urges almost uncontrollable.

  ‘There’s a problem in the accounts—someone in the company is skimming,’ he suddenly said roughly, jerking his head up.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m here to check through all the files and find out who and how.’

  Someone was stealing? And Carter was here to catch him? Mason had said he headed up some company in Melbourne, so was he some kind of CEO/forensic accountant or something?

  Actually that didn’t seem to fit. Not when he wore jeans and tousled hair so well. He looked as if he had too much street cred to be a number cruncher.

  ‘The only people who’ll know the real reason I’m here are you, Mason and me,’ he continued. ‘We’ll spread it ’round the company that I’m a friend of Mason’s who’s borrowing an office for a couple of weeks. Which I am.’

  The fiery green in his eyes dampened to cold blue serious. The sensual curve of his mouth flattened to a straight, hard line. Penny stared, watching him ice over, as she absorbed that info and the implications.

  Then she realised. ‘You thought it was me?’ She basically shrieked, her temperature steaming back up to boiling point. She might be many things, but a thief wasn’t one of them. ‘I’m the best damn temp in this town. I’m hardworking and honest. How dare you storm in here and throw round your gutter accusations?’

  ‘I know.’ His expression went very intense. ‘I’m sorry. Mason already told me it couldn’t be you.’

  He sucked the wind right out of her sails and disarmed her completely with a sudden flash of that smile. It cracked his icy cover and let the heat ripple once more. But she refused to let her anger slide into attraction. ‘You still thought it,’ she accused.

  ‘Well, you have to admit it looked…it looked…’ His attention wandered—down. ‘It looked…’

  Her body—despite the freezing wet shirt—was burning. Okay, that attraction was impossible to stop—simplest thing now would be to escape. ‘Well, now that you’ve done your looking,’ she said sarcastically, her eyes locked on his, ‘are you going to step back and let me past?’

  ‘Not yet,’ he said wryly. ‘I’m still looking.’

  Penny’s nerves tightened to one notch the other side of screaming. His lashes lowered and his smile faded. She looked down too. Now her silk shirt was wet it was both skin colour and skin tight and she might as well not be wearing anything. Even worse, she was aching…and horrified to realise it was completely obvious.

  ‘You’re cold,’ he said softly.

  Yeah, completely obvious.

  ‘The water in the jug was from the cooler.’

  ‘So that’s the reason…’

  All she could do was brazen this out. She tossed her head and met his eyes direct. ‘What other reason could there be?’

  His lips curved. In his tanned face, his teeth were white and straight and perfect. Actually everything in his face was perfect. And in the dark tee shirt and dark trousers he looked pretty-boy pirate, especially with the slightly too-long hair. The intensity of his scrutiny was devastating and now he’d fixed on one thing—her mouth.

  She saw his intention. She felt it in her lips already—the yearning for touch. But even for her that would be insane. She didn’t like the way her pulse was zigzagging all over the place. She didn’t like the way her body was so willingly bracing for impact.

  ‘Don’t add another insult to the list,’ she said, trying to regain control over both of them. But the words didn’t come out as forcefully as she’d intended. Instead they whispered on barely a breath—because she could barely move enough to breathe.

  ‘How can appreciating beauty be an insult?’

  Penny’s pulse thundered. She was used to confident men. They were the kind she liked—pretty much bullet proof. But this was more than just superficial brashness; this was innate, absolute arrogance. He stood even closer, filling all her senses. Her blood rushed to all her secret places and left her brain starving of its ability to operate.

  His smile suddenly flashed brighter—like how the flame flared on a gas hob when you accidentally twisted the knob the wrong way. His hand lifted and he brushed her lips with a finger. She shivered.

  Shock. She was in shock. That was the problem. That was why she wasn’t resisting….

  His expression heated up all the more. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  His traversing finger muffled the words she couldn’t speak anyway. She was too busy pressing her lips firmly together to stop herself from opening up and inviting him in. But somehow he got that invite anyway because he lifted his finger and swiftly replaced it with his mouth.

  Oh.

  It was light. A warm, gentle, coaxing kiss that promised so much more than it gave. But what it did give was good. He moved closer, not threatening, but with a hint of masculine spice and just enough pressure to make her accept him. To make her want more. Surprised that it wasn’t a full-throttle brazen burst of passion, she relaxed. Her eyes automatically closed as her body focused on the exquisite sweetness trickling into her. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything so nice—a subtle magic that melted her resistance, and saw her start to strain for what she knew he was holding at bay.

  Her lips parted—she couldn’t deny herself. His response came immediate, and powerful. She heard his sound of satisfaction and his hands moved from the steel behind to her soft body. She trembled top to toe as he swiftly shaped her curves, pulling her against him. She had to grab hold of his shoulders or she was going to tumble backwards. The kiss deepened again as she felt the wide, flat planes and hard strength of him. Her neck arched back as he stroked into her mouth. She lifted her hand, sliding her fingers into his thick hair. He showed no mercy then, bending her back all the more as he sought full access, kissing her jaw and neck and back up again to claim her mouth—this time with confident, carnal authority.

  She shuddered at the impact, felt him press closer still. Sandwiched between him and the cabinet, she was trapped between forces as unyielding and demanding as each other. Yet she had no desire to escape, not now.

  The arrogance of him was breathtaking. But not anywhere as breathtaking as the way he kissed. It was as if he was determined to maximise pleasure for them both and the control she usually held so tight started to slide as her own desire mounted.

  He was silk-wrapped steel and she wanted to feel all of him against her, slicing into her. She wanted him. Wanted as she hadn’t wanted anyone in a long, long time. Okay, ever. Hungry for his strength and passion, she kissed him back—melting against his body, delving into his mouth with
her tongue, so keen to explore more.

  And he knew. He lifted his hand from her waist to her breast and, oh, so lightly stroked his fingers across her violently taut nipple.

  She felt the touch as if her skin were bare. And it burned too hot.

  She jerked back, ripping her mouth free from his. Their eyes met, faces inches apart. A flare of something dangerous kindled in his—different from the earlier fury but just as frightening for Penny. She pushed as far back against the cool metal cabinet as she could, breathing hard. She shook her head, the only method of communication she could manage. While he stood, rock hard, and stared right back at her.

  A million half-thoughts murmured in her head—desperate thoughts, forgotten thoughts, frightening thoughts.

  Carter Dodds wasn’t the kind of man to let a woman stay on top—Penny’s only acceptable position, metaphorically anyway. He’d just demonstrated he’d always ultimately be the one in charge—his almost pretty-boy packaging disguised a total he-man with all masculine, all dominant virility. He’d made his move that way—lulling her into a sense of sweet security before unleashing his true potency and damn near swamping her reason. She liked sex—enjoyed the chase, the fun of touch, the fleeting closeness. But she never, ever lost control. She had to be in charge—needed to be the one who was wanted—even if only for that little while. She was very careful with whom she shared her body because she would always walk away. She ensured that a lover understood that. Commitment wasn’t something she could ever give. Nor was complete submission. So the sensations now threatening to submerge all her capacity for rational thought were very new. And very unwelcome.

  But there was a logical explanation. Less than five minutes ago she’d thought she was being attacked. Her heart hadn’t had a chance since to stop its manic stuttering and it was still sending ‘escape now’ blasts through her blood.

  ‘Well, that was one way to burn off the adrenalin overload.’ She totally had to act cool.

  ‘Is that what you were doing?’

  ‘Sure. You know, I was still wired from the fright of you assaulting me in my own office.’

  He stepped back, taking his heat with him. But his scrutiny seemed even more intense than ever. ‘Oh. So what was it for me?’

  She hazarded a simple guess. ‘Normal?’

  His mouth quirked. ‘Not.’

  Cool just wasn’t happening but she had to scrape her melting body back together. She wasn’t afraid of taking fun where it could be found, but there wasn’t fun to be had here. Anything that hot eventually had to hurt. And any emotion that intense scared her. In ten minutes with Carter she’d already run the gamut of terror, fury and lust—way too much of the latter. So she turned away from the challenge in his eyes.

  ‘I need to get going. I’m late as it is.’ The sooner she got to the bar, the better—she had to burn up the energy zinging round her body like a demented fly trapped in a jar. Fast and free on the dance floor for the next eight hours might do it.

  ‘Hot date?’

  ‘Very.’ She lied, happy to slam the brakes on anything between them by invoking her imaginary man friend. She opened up her gym bag; she’d straighten up her appearance and then her insides. But those insides shrieked—she breathed choppily, her heart jack-hammered—so the hairdryer’s cacophony was completely wonderful. It muted her clamouring nerves.

  Carter took a couple of strides to get himself out of physical range so he could get a grip on the urge to haul her back against him. He didn’t know what had got into him. He’d just kissed a complete stranger. A stranger who he’d initially thought was Mason’s cheating thief.

  He should probably apologise. But how could he be sorry for something so good? Except for a second there she’d looked at him as if he’d struck her, not snogged her. She’d looked shocked and almost hurt, almost vulnerable.

  And then she’d blamed that chemistry on adrenalin? Who did she think she was kidding? And now she was apparently late for her date and she had her hairdryer blasting. But it wasn’t her hair getting the treatment. It was her shirt. She held it out from her body, blowing the warm air over the silk. Then she lifted the nozzle and aimed it down her neckline—what, so she could dry her soft, wet skin? Not helping his raging erection subside any. Nope, that just yanked it even tighter.

  A light flickered on her desk. Her mobile. He glanced back up; she was still focused on her shirt. He picked up the mobile to hand it to her, his thumb hit the keypad and, oh, shame, that message from Mel just flicked up on the screen.

  Where r u? Kat & Bridge already on d-floor & lookg tragic. Need yr expertise.

  Her hot date was with Mel, Kat and Bridge? A bunch of women out on a mission—on a Monday night. That shouldn’t amuse him quite as much as it did. He walked up, took the dryer from her hand and pointed it at his wet hair. Immediately he jerked back from the blast of air. ‘It’s freezing!’

  The pink in her cheeks deepened.

  ‘Yeah,’ he teased, the sparks arcing between them again. ‘I thought you were feeling hot.’

  ‘It’s malfunctioning,’ she said sulkily.

  Carter fiddled with the switch and then aimed the dryer at her like a gun. ‘Or maybe it’s because you had it turned on cold.’

  Boom—even more red blotches peppered her creamy skin. She snatched the appliance back off him and switched it off.

  ‘Here’s your phone.’ He bit the bullet and handed it over.

  She looked at the screen and frowned. ‘You read my text?’

  ‘It flashed when I picked it up.’ He shrugged almost innocently.

  ‘You didn’t need to pick it up.’

  ‘But I like picking up pretty little things.’ Even less innocent.

  Blacker than black eyes narrowed. ‘I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice.’

  ‘Well, that does make for perfect performance.’ Yep, wickedly sinful now.

  ‘Is that what you think you offer? Perfection?’

  He grinned at her tone. She made provocation so irresistible. ‘You don’t think?’

  Her eyes raked him hard and, heaven help him, he loved it. ‘I think you could do with some more practice.’

  ‘You’re offering?’

  She turned away from him, retrieved the jug from the floor and marched to the water cooler to refill it. What, she was literally going to douse the flames again? But, no, she poured the water around the base of the monstrosity that was supposedly an office plant.

  ‘What is it, some kind of triffid?’ He reached up to the branches overhanging the cabinet. ‘If it grows any more, there won’t be room for anyone to work in here.’

  ‘She belongs to Carol and she’ll be here when she gets back. All healthy.’

  ‘You think that’s really going to happen?’ Carter knew Mason’s long-time assistant had a cancer battle on her hands. She’d been off for months and Mason was paying her full salary out of his own pocket. Which was why finding the person stealing from him was a priority. He was paying for two PAs. He was a hardworking, generous employer who deserved better than some skunk skimming and putting the entire company in jeopardy.

  ‘Of course she’s coming back.’ Penny banged the jug back on top of the filing cabinet and finally looked at him directly again. The flames were still there. ‘Is someone really stealing from him?’

  Carter nodded. ‘I think so.’

  ‘But Mason’s one of the good guys. He gives so much to charity. He doesn’t deserve that.’

  ‘That’s why I’m here.’

  Her appraisal went rapier sharp. ‘Well, you’d better lift your game.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He nodded agreeably. ‘I was thinking that too.’ But the game he meant was the one with her. And he didn’t miss the warring desire and antagonism in her expression.

  He walked alongside her down the corridor, rode the lift in silent torture. The space between them was too small but he wanted it even smaller—to nothing but skin on skin. Like a tiger, he was ready to pounce. At least his body was; h
is brain was frantically trying to issue warnings—like he didn’t have time for this, like he needed to focus.

  The security guard leapt up from his desk to get the door. ‘Goodnight, Penny.’ His smile widened as he watched her walk across the foyer towards him. That smile faded when he glanced behind her and registered Carter’s frown. ‘Goodnight, sir.’ Suddenly all respectful.

  Carter made himself nod and smile.

  ‘Hope Maddie’s better when you get home,’ Penny said lightly.

  ‘Me too.’ The guard’s smile spread again. ‘See you tomorrow. Not too early, you understand?’

  She just laughed as she went through the door.

  ‘Have fun, Penny,’ Carter drawled softly as they hit the pavement.

  She turned and fluttered him a look one eyelash short of do-me-now. ‘Oh, I plan to.’

  So she couldn’t resist striking the sparks either. And he knew the kind of fun girls like her liked—the eat-men-for-breakfast kind. He smiled, happy to play if she wanted, because experience had made him too tough to chew. She could learn that if she dared.

  She walked away, her legs ridiculously long in that sexy strip of a skirt, her balance perfect on the high, narrow heels. Her glossy brown hair cascaded down to her almost too-trim waist. He bet she worked out in the pursuit of perfection. Not that she needed to bother. She nailed it on attitude alone.

  Testosterone—and other things—surged again. So did his latent combative nature. That vulnerability he’d seen upstairs when he’d startled her, and again after he’d kissed her? A mirage—she’d been buying time while assessing her position. For Penny the PA knew how to play men—the slayer look she’d just shot him proved it. Mason thought the world of her. The security guy was falling over himself to help her. She’d want to bring Carter to heel like every other man she knew. Yeah, he’d seen her vixen desire for dominance. She thought she could toy with him as some feline would a mouse.

  She was so wrong.

  But he could hardly wait for her to bring it on.

  CHAPTER TWO