Mr One-Night Stand Read online

  They’d exchanged messages regarding work and she’d asked after his grandmother. And as time had gone on she’d started to doubt what she thought she’d seen in his face, what she thought she’d felt change between them, and her hope had slowly died. Even the ‘x’ had become a distant memory.

  It was now launch night and here she was, supposed to be getting ready, but her tummy was in knots. She knew that he would be here soon, that she would see him again, but she didn’t know how to react, how to feel.

  She frowned into her bathroom mirror, her unmade-up face staring back at her. She was going to have to do something. The shadows beneath her eyes spoke of sleep deprivation, and her pale and hollow cheeks were the result of her non-existent appetite.

  ‘It’s not going to make itself look good, you know,’ came Anna’s softly spoken remark through the open doorway, and her smile was one of concern. ‘You want me to help?’

  Jennifer ignored her question and tightened the belt on her dressing gown. ‘How long do we have?’

  Anna glanced at the mobile in her hand. ‘Taxi’s due in an hour.’

  ‘Have you heard from Marcus?’

  ‘Not recently, but he—’ She broke off as her mobile started to ring. ‘Ah—one sec... Hello?’ she said wandering off, phone to her ear.

  Jennifer looked back to the mirror and took up her foundation as if on autopilot. She made a start, trying not to think and wondering all the same how things could have changed so much. It was launch night, and it was a huge deal, but she no longer cared enough. Somewhere between falling in love and fearing her love could never be returned, work had lost its shine.

  She gritted her teeth against the pang that had become oh, so familiar and forced her hand to do its work, finishing off her make-up with meticulous care. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, threading it into a loose braid that would work well with the black dress she had chosen to wear.

  Shrugging off her dressing gown, she hooked it on the back of the bathroom door and took the dress off the hanger alongside it. Dropping it to the floor, she stepped inside the pool of fabric and shimmied it up over her hips, pulling the sleeves up her arms before reaching behind her for the zip.

  ‘Need a hand?’

  Her fingers froze over the clasp, her heart hammering in her chest, her eyes hitting the doorway as she turned to face—

  ‘Marcus?’

  He leant against the doorframe, dressed in his dinner suit, his bow tie hanging limp in a sexy, I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way as his rich, dark gaze raked over her and her stomach drew tight, her legs weakening beneath her.

  ‘Jennifer?’ he said thickly, and the emotive ring to his voice teased the walls around her heart.

  The pulse working in his jaw told her he wasn’t as relaxed as his poise suggested.

  She searched his face, his eyes, their rich chocolate depths almost wild, and asked, ‘Is everything okay?’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Or at least I hope it soon will be.’

  She swallowed. What did that mean?

  ‘The launch is going to be perfect,’ she said, remembering her fingers were still poised over her zip and attempting to fasten it.

  ‘Let me.’

  He closed the distance between them and she started, her already insane pulse tripping out. She had to reach for the sink to stop herself tumbling as she turned around.

  ‘Steady,’ he said, concern deepening his voice and the heat of his body radiating down her bare back.

  He curved his hands around her hips, the heat of his palms forcing a small sound from the base of her throat—Please don’t notice that.

  ‘Jennifer...’ It was a warning, and instead of taking up the zip he turned her into him, pressing her body against the hardness of his own. ‘You need to start taking better care of yourself.’

  His forceful command disturbed the hair atop her head. ‘Yes, Mum!’

  ‘Look at me.’

  She couldn’t raise her eyes from the pulse beating in his neck. She felt his comforting, heady scent wrapping around her. He hooked his fingers beneath her chin and gently coaxed her to obey. She felt her lashes fluttering until she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

  ‘What?’ she said, defiance bursting from her. ‘I’ve been busy.’

  ‘I know, and I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch like that.’

  She softened instantly, regretting her crabby retort. ‘Please don’t apologise. I’m sorry. I’ve just...’

  What? Missed you? Fallen in love with you? Lost my mind? All of the above...?

  ‘What am I going to do with you?’

  He gave a small shake of his head, his voice husky, and his thumb started to brush over her chin. His eyes lowered to her lips and instinctively she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, the provocation both impulsive and purposeful. Please kiss me, it said.

  Her lids lowered, her breathing hitched, her head was dizzy with hope... But there was no kiss.

  Reality speared her and she opened her eyes to delve into his. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Christ, this is hard.’ He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again they looked ravaged, lost, unsure.

  She slipped her hands over his shoulders, partly to reassure him and partly to hold herself steady against the mounting trepidation. ‘What is it?’

  He shuddered on a breath. ‘I’m here to ask you for more.’

  She frowned, their past conversations coming back to haunt her.

  Did he mean...? Or was it still sex? More sex?

  ‘I know I don’t deserve it, and I know what I’ve said, how I’ve behaved...’ He shook his head again, his tortured gaze beating down into hers. ‘But I was confused. I had no idea what I wanted—not truly.’

  She was struggling, her sleep-deprived brain trying to make sense of what he was saying.

  Was he this desperate to keep her in his bed?

  A spark of anger flared. ‘Are you asking for a fuck buddy?’

  He flinched. ‘Hell, no! I’m doing such a shit job of this. I’m sorry.’

  She let go of a relieved breath and he moved to cup her face, his thumbs caressing her jawline, his impassioned sincerity holding her captive.

  ‘I’m asking you to take a chance on me—to be with me.’

  Her ears started to ring, hope flaring.

  ‘I’ve lived my life ruled by my past—running from it, living in fear of my father, fear of becoming him, fear of falling in love and losing it.’

  Tears pricked at her eyes. Did he mean...? Was he saying...?

  ‘Meeting you made me question it all. You opened my eyes to how foolish I’ve been.’ He brushed an escaped tear from her cheek. ‘I don’t want to waste another second without you.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘That I love you, Jennifer. Christ, I should have just led with that.’

  He gave her a half-smile that made her tummy dance.

  ‘I loved you long before I even realised it myself.’

  He dropped his head, his forehead coming to rest against her own, his eyes intense.

  ‘I know I’ve made a complete cock-up of our beginning, but if you’ll just take a chance, let me show you how things can be, I’ll do everything—’

  ‘Marcus,’ she interrupted him, feeling as if her heart was going to explode if she didn’t put an end to his misery this second.

  He stopped, raising his head, his expression open and vulnerable.

  ‘Shut up.’

  She reached up on tiptoes and softened her words with a kiss—one so filled with her love for him that when she broke away they both had to fight for air.

  ‘Does this mean...?’ His voice trailed off, his hands still as they cupped her face, his eyes searching her own, daring to hope.

  ‘I love you, too,’ she said, tears fal
ling freely now. ‘And, for my sins, I’ve known it for a while.’

  ‘You have?’ he said in disbelief. ‘But everything I said about relationships, about it just being sex...’

  ‘Yes, in spite of all that you couldn’t hide the good man you are, Marcus. It follows you around with annoying presence.’ She poked him playfully in the chest. ‘Believe me, I tried not to love you—especially after all you said—but you captured my heart and the damn thing wouldn’t let you go.’

  He grinned, that delicious dimple appearing in his cheek, and she pressed a kiss to it.

  ‘Thank fuck your heart is as stubborn as you,’ he said.

  She dropped back and raised her brow in mock hurt. ‘Stubborn?’

  ‘Yes.’ He reached around, resting his hands against her lower back, holding her to him. ‘Just like an ass.’

  ‘An ass?’

  ‘Only better-looking.’

  She laughed, her happiness spilling over as she prodded him in the chest some more. ‘Tread carefully, Marcus. You have a lot of making up to do.’

  ‘Making up?’ His grin turned mischievous, his eyes flashing with wicked intent. ‘I like the sound of that.’

  ‘I bet you do.’

  ‘And I know just where to start,’ he drawled, taking hold of the zip fastening at her back and toying with it. ‘Shame we have a product launch to get to first...’

  ‘Well, you have Colin driving us, right?’

  ‘Yes...’ He looked at her, bewildered, and she simply smiled, turning in his hold.

  ‘Then zip me up and let’s go celebrate in style.’

  She didn’t need to look at him to know he’d got her meaning this time...

  * * * * *

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