Mr One-Night Stand Page 12

  Well, fuck that.

  She breathed through the daze—the desire, the frustration, the anger...

  What the hell had possessed her?

  She knew, all right. She’d been playing with fire; wanting to replace the shitty feeling of being undermined by overpowering him, and she’d used her sexuality to do it. It had been a low move. It was beneath her.

  But the rush—the way it had made her feel—beat any boardroom conquest. That was until he’d turned the tables on her.

  She took a far more controlled breath, pushing herself up off the desk. It was time to show him that she didn’t need her sexuality to do that. It was time to show him that, professionally, she was someone he didn’t want to screw over.

  Screw with, on the other hand...

  Quit it!

  She drowned the thought in some coffee and focused on her laptop.

  She’d show him.

  * * *

  ‘Apologies.’

  His eyes shot to the doorway, to the exquisite redhead holding her laptop over her chest, coffee in hand.

  Fuck.

  Marcus wasn’t ready to have her in the same room again—not yet. He’d expected her to stay away, prayed that she would.

  She was stronger than he’d given her credit for. He shouldn’t really be surprised. Not when she had surprised him on every other score.

  ‘I had some urgent business that needed attending to,’ she continued, addressing the room, her smooth, honeyed tone washing over him, hinting at the husky resonance it gained when she came apart under his hand, his mouth...

  She walked towards them, her expression pointed as she looked at him.

  Introductions, you idiot!

  He cleared his throat. ‘Jennifer, this is Gary, my Head of Product Development, and his close second, Dan.’

  The two men stood as she placed her coffee at the table they occupied and her hand reached out to shake each of theirs in turn. Her smile was that soul-crushingly gorgeous one that had his brain departing. And probably his team’s now too.

  For fuck’s sake, stick to work. Not a day in and you’ve almost thrown your assurances out of the window. So much for keeping yourself in bloody check...

  But then, she’d been the one to push first, the one to put—

  ‘Marcus?’

  They all looked at him expectantly, especially Jennifer, who’d been the one to say his name, her brow raised as she said it.

  ‘Care to fill me in on where you’re at?’

  The spark to her eyes said she knew exactly where his head was at, and it wasn’t at work.

  This just kept getting better and better.

  He gave a brisk nod, forcing himself to get with it. ‘Maxine was just summing up the impact of my proposal on your product stream.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘I assume we’re talking about using some of our resources to get Tech-Incorp’s product out of the door ahead of schedule?’

  She’d hit the nail on the head and, to her credit, there had been no emotion in her supposition.

  ‘That’s right,’ Maxine said, stepping forward to give Jennifer a copy of the project plans she’d scribbled her amendments on. ‘The impact shouldn’t be too great, but it will mean pushing back on Projects Azure and Topaz.’

  Jennifer nodded, placing her laptop and the papers upon the table, her eyes scanning the pages. ‘Do you have time to give me a brief breakdown of this Tech-Incorp product?’

  She looked to Marcus and he immediately looked to Gary. ‘Do the honours?’

  ‘Sure.’

  That was him out of her sight for a spell. He settled back into the chair behind his desk, letting Jennifer join the others at the table while Gary sold the product to the room.

  He could see Jennifer liked it. But if he’d thought her eyes being off him would reduce her hold over him, he’d been wrong. Watching her unhindered had just given him an added opportunity to appreciate her further—the professional Jennifer, asking the right questions, listening carefully and offering her own insightful input. And all in a beautifully captivating package.

  Could she be any more perfect?

  ‘I assume Maxine has told you we have something similar in development?’ She directed the question to them all, pulling Marcus back to the conversation at hand.

  Maxine nodded. ‘I have.’

  ‘And I assume you have debated which product should get the weight of the combined team behind it?’

  ‘We have.’

  It was Gary who gave the confirmation, but Jennifer looked to Maxine, wanting her affirmation.

  ‘We have,’ she said tentatively, her gaze flitting over the other attendees as a hint of colour crept into her cheeks. ‘And I did suggest we incorporate some of our features.’

  ‘But we decided that would take too long,’ Dan argued.

  Jennifer pinned him with a look. ‘What kind of timescales are we talking?’

  ‘A few weeks,’ Marcus confirmed over Dan’s reply. ‘At least I’m hoping so. My conference call this afternoon will confirm it.’

  ‘Then I think we should put time into ensuring the product is the best it can be, in the timescale permitted, and if that means merging specifications then so be it.’

  ‘But we’re practically at the finish line,’ Gary pitched in.

  ‘I understand that.’ She gave him a killer smile, but her eyes were hard. ‘Nonetheless, my team has worked hard on this product to date, and for you to sweep in now so soon after your arrival in this firm and have it canned would be unwise.’

  The room fell silent as the impact of her words hit home.

  ‘Not only will this ensure our employees don’t feel shafted by your presence,’ she continued, ‘we can also ensure we put the best product out there.’

  Marcus felt both men look to him, sensed Maxine’s smile of approval, but his eyes were locked with hers and he was lost in them, his admiration swelling with irritating vigour.

  ‘Very well,’ he heard himself say. ‘Get the teams together. They have until the end of the week to get it mapped out and underway.’

  Her lips quirked with triumph and, fuck, did he want to obliterate it with his own.

  ‘Seems to me you have a lot to get done.’ He glanced over them all, settling on Jennifer last. ‘Why don’t you get to it?’

  They all stood, save for her.

  ‘I assume you’d like to stay for this conference call?’ he said.

  She gave him a brisk nod, the movement drawing his eye to the crystal droplets swinging from each ear and to the soft, expanse of skin just behind. His mouth dried. The desire to taste her was instinctive—to drive out the whimper he so loved to hear, to trail a path from there all the way to her collarbone and further still...

  The room had emptied before he came to, and he did so with force. ‘Are you doing battle with me? Or are you truly fighting the corner for your product and your team?’

  She gave him a coy smile, crossing her legs as she brushed a distracting hand across her thigh.

  ‘I want to say I’m being entirely noble...’

  She cocked her head serenely, her eyes dancing with mischief, and God help him the rush beneath his waist was instant.

  ‘But doing battle with you is kind of fun.’

  ‘Did you not listen to my warning?’

  ‘Oh, I listened,’ she said smoothly.

  His mouth opened to respond but nothing came—nothing that would make sense.

  What did he want to propose? Did he really want to act on his threat? And where would that leave him? Leave them?

  He was rescued by the phone ringing, signalling his incoming US call.

  She rose from her seat to join him at his desk and he answered the call.

  He’d have liked to say his attention moved fully to the call. He’
d have also liked to say that for the remainder of that week his focus revolved fully around work.

  But he hadn’t been born a liar.

  He wasn’t about to start being one now.

  As for his assurance that he would keep himself in check—it was crippling him. Her constant presence was a permanent tease that no one could see off. Or rather, no woman.

  And his mood suffered with it.

  Celibacy, it turned out, was not good for him—on any level.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE’D BEEN READING the same article for the last hour and still it wouldn’t compute.

  What an utter waste of an early start.

  ‘You can’t go on like this,’ she muttered under her breath, taking up her coffee mug and rising out of her swivel chair to head to the window.

  She looked down at the street below, at the early-morning commuters going about their business.

  Were any of them suffering the same way? Their thoughts stuck where they shouldn’t be, on something else, on someone else?

  There’d been a closeness between them that night, when they’d opened up about their pasts. A closeness she’d never shared with anyone outside of her family. She doubted he had either. She’d sensed his disclosure had come from him feeling he owed it to her, that he’d had to force back his unease at doing so. And all that he’d told her of what he’d been through. Her heart swelled anew. To have pushed through it when many others might have let it ruin them...

  But then wasn’t he ruined in some way? Broken, almost? She’d seen the hurt he harboured, the bitterness, the discomfort when he’d talked of his grandparents. All of that she had so badly wanted to heal, to take away. It had swallowed her whole that night, when she’d given way to the need that had ravaged them both.

  The morning after she’d been able to throw herself into Tony and his problems, but in reality she’d just been trying to shut Marcus out, to stop the seed of caring for him from flourishing.

  But it had taken root—good and proper.

  She clenched both hands around her mug and rested her forehead against the cool glass window.

  It was useless.

  No matter how hard she tried to push him out he always came back with a vengeance—especially at night, in dreams she was helpless to prevent, in which they could do everything they wanted, and it would feel so real, so right. Then she would wake up, needy and breathless, and have to come to work, pretending none of it had ever happened. Knowing it would never happen again.

  It had been less than a week, yet it felt like several. Having him in the same building was driving her crazy. Always on high alert for her next glimpse of him, hanging on for their next encounter. None of it was conducive to work.

  She’d tried to gain some breathing space, had worked off site, even at the coffee shop down the road, but her head would soon wander, and no sooner had she returned than he was calling on her for some matter or other, going overboard on the inclusion front.

  She only had herself to blame for that. She’d told him what would happen if he didn’t keep her in the loop.

  Well done, Jennifer.

  She brushed her fingers over her lips, remembering how he’d goaded her, how close he’d come when he’d pressed her up against her desk...

  But, to his credit, he’d been nothing but businesslike since, and she’d been careful not to give him cause to be otherwise. It didn’t make her happy, though. More...dissatisfied, antsy—like a cola bottle about to explode with the need fizzing up inside her.

  ‘Knock-knock.’

  Anna’s chirrupy greeting sounded from the doorway and she turned to see her leaning in. ‘Morning.’

  ‘Eww!’ said Anna, pulling a face and crossing the room to study her. ‘Are you feeling okay? You don’t sound great.’

  ‘Long week.’

  Anna gave a flourish of a nod. ‘Just be thankful you don’t work for Mr Wright. I heard his PA in the kitchen yesterday, saying she’s never known him to be so difficult—a week from hell, she deemed it.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, feigning uninterest, ignoring the flurry of excitement that just his name evoked. But she had to ask. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Apparently he’s impossible to please—coffee’s too hot, too cold, too sweet, too milky.’ She waved her hands about dramatically, eyes rolling. ‘Documents flying back and forth, stuck in draft stage, meetings and agendas up in the air, yada-yada-yada.’

  Jennifer felt her insides smile. ‘And this isn’t usual?’

  Anna laughed. ‘I don’t think his PA would work for him if it was. From what I overheard, she’s about ready to give notice. And she’s worked for him for five years.’

  ‘Maybe he’s finding it hard to get his feet under the table here.’

  ‘If that’s the case, maybe you could help him?’

  Anna’s smile was innocent, unlike Jennifer’s brain, which was delighting in the many ways she could help settle him. None of which were acceptable.

  ‘If he carries on like this he’s going to become a thorn in your side too—albeit a good-looking thorn. But still, you don’t need the stress.’

  Anna was right. She didn’t. And maybe she should be more concerned. If the two of them were struggling to function, how on earth was the business supposed to?

  ‘I’ll speak to him when he gets in.’ She glanced at her watch. It was late for him, and the worry Anna had triggered started to spread.

  ‘Speak of the devil,’ her PA said, looking to the outer office beyond the glass and the man now striding through it.

  No fucking way.

  ‘It should be forbidden for any man to come in looking like that.’

  Jennifer barely registered her PA’s words, her mouth parting, the hand holding her coffee lowering as her eyes followed him across the office. He’d been for a run—likely a long and punishing one, judging by his slick body, his clothing clinging to every honed muscle, making her fingers tingle with their first-hand knowledge of it.

  She swallowed and moved to tear her eyes away before he could catch her gawping—but too late. His energised gaze swept to hers, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he acknowledged her.

  She tried for a smile too. Hell, hers was probably just as off.

  ‘Well, there’s no time like the present,’ Anna said, seemingly oblivious as she made for the door. ‘I’ll tell him you need a word, shall I?’

  ‘No.’

  Anna looked back at her, eyes narrowed, and, taking a breath, she expanded with reasoned logic. ‘I mean, yes, but I’m sure he’d like a shower first.’

  ‘I guess,’ said Anna, glancing back at him wistfully. ‘Still, I’ll just let him know you’ll be needing him when he’s ready.’

  And with that she was gone, returning not a minute later, face aglow. ‘He says to call by in ten.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Did he say he’d be appropriately attired by then? she wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. It wouldn’t do to give Anna the impression she was overly bothered.

  But it was bad enough that she already knew first-hand the consequences of catching him post-workout—or mid-workout, or whatever he’d been that day in his apartment. She didn’t need a repeat.

  Ten minutes—she’d give him fifteen, just to be sure.

  * * *

  He checked his watch. She should be here by now. He glanced to the doorway, across the quiet office through the glass. No sign. Should he just go to her?

  But maybe she’d got caught up in something. He didn’t want to appear eager. Hell, his biggest challenge in the role to date had been to strike the right balance in his dealings with her, to dampen his relentless need to see her. Hunting her down didn’t fit with that.

  But she’d asked to see him—she’d given him a reason...

  Christ, stop overthinking everything!

>   His run to work that morning had been about trying to clear his mind, to get himself focused, back to how he’d been before she’d come into his life. What it had really proved was that it couldn’t be done. Not easily. The only way he could foresee being able to think straight by day was having her in his bed by night. And surely that was madness.

  But, madness or not, he was fast running out of options.

  Maybe she was too. Maybe that was why she wanted to see him. Hell, he could hope.

  Grabbing his mobile, he made for the door just as the device started ringing in his palm. He checked the screen and halted in his tracks—Gran.

  He cut the call instinctively. He’d text her back...tell her he was busy and that he’d—

  It started to ring again and he thrust his fingers through his hair. The early hour, the repeated ringing—it had to be urgent. In spite of his recent run, ice ran through his veins and he glanced up, spying movement across the office. Jennifer was approaching and still his phone rang.

  He looked from it, to her, and back again, knowing what he had to do and fearing it all the same.

  Just tell her you’ll call her back.

  Jennifer rapped on his door and he gestured for her to enter as he swiped the screen to answer the call, raising the phone to his ear. ‘Hey, Gran—can I call you back in just a minute?’

  ‘It’s me, son.’

  The familiar voice of his grandfather rasped down the line and he frowned in confusion. ‘Pops?’

  ‘Sorry to call you so early, but it’s your grandmother. She’s in hospital.’

  The world around him closed in. His lungs sucked in air. ‘Hospital?’

  ‘They suspect she’s suffered a stroke.’ His grandfather cleared his throat, the sound clearly a cover for the crack in his voice, and Marcus’s own chest tightened further, his grip around the phone tightening with it.

  ‘How bad is it?’

  ‘She’s stable,’ his grandfather said. ‘They say she’s doing well. She’s resting now, but... Well, I just thought you’d like to know.’

  Guilt wrapped around him, suffocating him. He looked to Jennifer. Her concern was shining bright in her furrowed gaze, her arms wrapped defensively around her middle.