Mr One-Night Stand Page 7

  He could think again.

  No sooner had he crouched down than he found himself face-to-face with her stiletto-clad feet.

  Cope?

  He’d be lucky to get back on his feet and keep his surging erection hidden.

  Christ, but her ankles were hot, their delicate curves raising elegantly from shoes whose heels evoked desires so carnal and fierce they brought him to his knees.

  And there he was, dropping forward, knees pressing into the hard floor as he began wiping at the puddle. It would be funny if he wasn’t doing his damnedest to stay on task, trying not to get distracted by the shimmer coming off her legs, or the memory rampaging through his mind of how their stockinged lengths had felt beneath his palm. How it had felt to hook them over his hip and have her ride against his...

  ‘Are you trying to polish a hole in my floor?’

  He looked up to find her looming over him, her eyes burning into his own.

  Christ, he wanted to bury himself between her legs.

  Hell, if they weren’t in her office perhaps delivering the news while driving her to climax would somehow take the edge off.

  Yeah, real businesslike, that.

  She was still looking at him, her eyes alive with some hidden thought, and he heard himself say, ‘I like to be thorough.’

  She gave a delectable little hum and nodded, muttering something that sounded very much like, ‘Don’t I know it?’

  ‘What was that?’ he said, rocking onto his feet and tossing the dirty towels in the nearby wastebasket. His body was teetering dangerously close to the edge of reason.

  ‘Nothing,’ she blurted, her mood shifting so swiftly he wondered if he’d imagined her words.

  It doesn’t matter. Tell her. Now.

  ‘Look, I—’

  They both said it in unison.

  ‘Jinx.’ She gave him a smile that screamed regret. ‘I’m flattered, I really am, that you’ve tracked me down and gone to all this trouble—it’s lovely, it really is, and last night... Well, last night was probably the best—’

  She was rambling. He knew it and she knew it, judging by the flush creeping up the exposed skin of her chest.

  He tore his eyes upwards, forcing himself to look into her eyes as he cut her off. ‘I’m not here because of that.’

  She frowned. ‘You’re not?’

  ‘Not entirely.’

  Hell, just get it out. You’ve dealt with hostile takeovers better than this.

  ‘I mean, I’m not here for what you think.’

  Her brow furrowed further. Her genuine confusion was breaking him.

  ‘Okay...’ She threw her dirty paper towelling away, then returned her arms to her middle. ‘So why are you here?’

  He thrust his hand through his hair. The guilt, the alien sense of unease, the fear of hurting her—all made it impossible to think straight. He’d planned it out on the journey over, prepared his words, perfected his apology, but it all evaded him now that she was standing before him, waiting...

  ‘Right.’ The word was more for himself than her, as his hands came up in a definitive gesture that said Let’s do this. ‘There’s no easy way to tell you what I need to, so I’m just going to come out and say it. But before I do you have to understand that when we met I had no idea who you were.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Well, why would you?’

  ‘Because the business I told you I was in town for...’

  She nodded and he lowered his hands, shoving them into his pockets.

  ‘It was Tony Andrews I was supposed to be meeting.’

  Her lips parted in surprise. ‘Tony?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Her head gave a little shake. ‘But why?’

  ‘We were discussing this business...your business.’ He watched the confusion rain down over her face and pushed himself onwards, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut, the sheer shittiness of what he was about to tell her.

  ‘My business?’ She shook her head more fervently, a lock of hair falling distractingly across her paling cheek.

  Stick with it, Marcus.

  ‘But that makes no sense,’ she said softly. ‘Tony hasn’t mentioned any potential work with Tech-Incorp.’

  She coloured slightly at the name, realising she had revealed too much in that sentence. So she’d looked him up? He would have been flattered if not for the fucked-upness of it all.

  ‘That’s because it’s not a simple joint venture.’

  She brought one hand up to her mouth, her expression changing as he could see her putting it together, piece by piece.

  ‘He was supposed to have spoken to you,’ he continued, very much on the defence. ‘In fact, he was supposed to bring you to meet me last night so we could discuss the future in a more relaxed environment.’ He withdrew one hand from his pocket to rake it through his hair again, his prepared words coming back to him. ‘He wanted the opportunity to explain his reasoning and make you understand why he was doing it. All before the paperwork was signed.’

  ‘The paperwork?’

  ‘He kept saying he wanted to tell you himself, and I’ve been pushing him for weeks to speak to you, but there’s no telling that guy.’ He shook his head with genuine frustration. ‘Last night was his final opportunity and he couldn’t even get that right.’

  ‘His final opportunity?’

  She looked lost now, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Yes.’ He pushed on. ‘Time was of the essence. He needed the deal done this morning and it worked for me too.’

  She came alive on a harsh laugh. ‘It worked for you?’

  Shit...

  ‘Just to be clear,’ she bit out, the hand in front of her mouth moving to slice the air between them. ‘What exactly has he signed?’

  He looked at her head-on. The woman who had driven this company to the fore was very much present now. Jennifer from last night was long gone. There was no carnal promise to her gaze, no flirtatious tilt to her mouth. Her countenance was like steel, cold and hard.

  And that suited him just fine.

  This Jennifer he could work with.

  ‘He’s sold his half of the business.’ He rolled his shoulders and jutted his chin. ‘To me.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘YOU?’

  Before her, Marcus nodded, the movement sending hair across his forehead with appealing charm.

  He had no right to be appealing or charming. Not when she wanted to scream, to vent her anger and get to the bottom of what the hell had happened.

  She’d been made a fool of. By the pair of them.

  Betrayal clawed its way into her stomach, and nausea was instant and dizzying.

  She’d been all out for anonymous sex—no names, no future, no nothing. And yet he—he had known. From the moment his driver had secured her name he had known who she was.

  ‘I tried to stop things,’ he said, as though reading her rampant thoughts.

  ‘Yeah, you tried really hard,’ she said, barely acknowledging the truth of his words, her fingers sweeping over her tingling cheeks.

  ‘I tried to take you home to your place.’

  She nodded. ‘I remember.’

  She remembered all too well. He’d tried and she’d pushed, seducing him until he’d bent to her will.

  But she hadn’t known. He had.

  ‘I need you to go.’

  ‘I think we should talk this through.’

  She looked at him, her enlightened gaze seeing him clearly for the first time, and the fool inside her shrivelled and died. ‘What? So you can lie to me some more?’

  His eyes flashed. ‘That’s not fair. I didn’t lie.’

  ‘You lied by omission.’

  She could see him struggling for an apt response, and his silence spoke volumes. Part o
f her wished he could smooth it over, make it all better, because the burn of humiliation was crippling her brain. She couldn’t process any of it—his deceit, the dogged attraction to him she still shamefully felt, Tony’s effing bail-out...

  Christ—Tony!

  The guy had truly surpassed himself this time. How could she have been so blind to his plans? And so trusting as to have delayed that sodding Shareholders’ Agreement.

  Such an idiot. That would have prevented it all, for heaven’s sake.

  But then, she’d never expected this. That he would actually jump ship and bring this potent heap of man trouble to her door.

  It was a disaster.

  An absolute fucking disaster.

  ‘You need to leave.’

  ‘Look, I understand that you’re angry, and you have every right to be.’

  ‘How big of you.’ Inwardly she winced. She sounded like a disgruntled teen and she hated it.

  ‘But the sooner we can put this behind us,’ he said, ignoring her little outburst, ‘the sooner we can concentrate on the future and get our working relationship on the right footing. It’s what’s best for the business, after all.’

  Words failed her. The more he spoke, the calmer he became, and all she wanted was to mirror that control. The fact that she couldn’t made the situation a hundred times worse. And now he was using her business as a tool to reign her in.

  Well, fuck that.

  ‘What’s best for the business is for me to understand Tony’s motivation for leaving and get my head around your arrival. Then we can talk.’

  He nodded, his expression one of annoying understanding. ‘This afternoon, then? Or tonight? Over dinner, maybe?’

  Afternoon...tonight...dinner...

  She gave a manic laugh. ‘Are you for real? You expect me to just roll over, take this news and pick up where we left off?’

  ‘Hell, no!’ he said, his eyes widening with what she could only read as horror. ‘I want to talk business and strategy. Where and when doesn’t matter to me. I wasn’t suggesting a date of any sort.’

  ‘Why?’ she sniped. ‘Does the idea suddenly seem repulsive to you?’

  ‘Sorry, that came out wrong.’

  He actually had the decency to look sheepish, and the change made him almost boyish. God help her if she didn’t want to jump his bones as much as she wanted to kill him.

  ‘I just mean it’s not something I endorse. I have a rule never to mix business with pleasure.’

  She stared at him incredulously. ‘I repeat—are you for real?’

  ‘Last night was different,’ he stressed. ‘Things had already gone way too far before I knew who you were.’

  She clamped her jaw shut. What the hell could she say to that? By the time he’d discovered who she was she’d been like a dog on heat, and as for him... He’d been right there with her.

  But still it didn’t make it right.

  She took a slow breath, smoothing a hand over her hair as she raised her chin and straightened her spine. This was happening, whether she liked it or not. The sooner she buried the emotional wreckage, the sooner she could deal with the professional fallout.

  And that was all that mattered.

  It had to be.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, purposefully shifting her attention to rifle through the papers on her desk. ‘I’ll have Anna clear my diary for tomorrow. We can meet then.’

  She didn’t look up, hoping everything in her tone and demeanour had delivered the dismissal he deserved. And yet he hesitated. She could feel his eyes still on her, the tension in the air still tight.

  ‘What?’ she suddenly blurted, her composure cracking as the need to goad him burst free. ‘You can’t wait until then to see me?’

  Her gibe hit its mark, his eyes flaring. ‘Very funny, Jennifer.’

  ‘If you find this funny, I have serious concerns about your sense of humour.’

  He looked as if he would say something else but stopped, his shoulders rolling on a heavy sigh. ‘Look, I know I’ve not done a great job of explaining myself, or the situation, but you must know that the sooner we get talking strategy, the sooner we can move forward and put this inconvenient start behind us.’

  He studied her for a moment, probably waiting for a response, and when none came he turned and left, leaving her staring after him, the word inconvenient bouncing provokingly around her head.

  Inconvenient?

  Incon-bloody-venient?

  The man was an arse!

  She’d show him what inconvenient truly looked like.

  Beneath her, her legs trembled against her bravado and her tummy turned. She was grateful she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, because surely it would be making a return right now.

  She could handle this. She just needed to break the problem down into two parts, or rather two men, and deal with each in turn.

  First up—Tony.

  Collapsing back into her chair, she reached out and pressed her index finger to the phone to dial Anna. She would know where Tony had been calling from. Anna wasn’t just her PA, she was good friends with Tony’s wife. And Jennifer would be damned if she was having this conversation with him over the phone.

  * * *

  She rapped on the door and fought the urge to test the handle. What she really wanted to do was rip the damn thing open and confront Tony wherever he stood.

  She knew Lucy wasn’t home. His wife had apparently given him a kick up the arse, taken the baby and moved out. For how long would be up to him.

  Things were worse than Jennifer had realised. Worse than even Anna had understood.

  Guilt cajoled her anger. She should have realised. If not for everything else on her plate, she probably would have. But bailing out of their company without a single word to her, bringing a total stranger into their midst—it felt like the ultimate betrayal.

  Through the bevelled glass of the heavy black door she could make out his approach and she stepped back. Her eyes scanned the traditional London townhouse as she waited.

  She heard the latch shift and looked to the door as it opened, Tony’s head appearing at its edge. She swallowed back a gasp. He looked like hell. His blond hair flopped around his face, his eyes were glassy and sunken in their shadowed sockets.

  ‘Jenny,’ he rasped, eyes squinting, one hand holding a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and swinging it upwards to rest against the frame.

  ‘You going to let me in?’

  ‘You sure you want to come in?’ His words were slurred and he looked towards the street, eyeing it up and down as though someone might be following.

  ‘I don’t think you want this particular conversation out here.’

  He snorted and swung back, the door moving with him. ‘Suit yourself.’

  Jennifer stepped inside. Holding her breath against his alcohol-tainted air, she bypassed him and headed straight down the Edwardian-style hallway for the lounge.

  He couldn’t have been home alone for long—the house was too clean, too orderly. The high-ceilinged lounge barely looked lived in. All a marked contrast to his haggard state.

  Tugging off her coat, she tossed it on one of the beige sofas but didn’t sit. She wasn’t ready to make herself at home. Instead she strode to the window, and waited until she heard him shuffle in behind her.

  She tried to muster up the anger, the hurt, but as she turned to face him all she felt was sadness. He was pale and clammy, his white shirt hanging half open, his dark trousers out of place and a dramatic contrast to the pasty white feet sticking out beneath.

  She took a steadying breath. ‘I’m going to put the kettle on.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ He swung the bottle and took a swig, wincing as he swallowed it down.

  For fuck’s sake!

  She strode across the room and reached for the bottle. �
��Let me get you a cuppa.’

  His gaze dropped to her hand, his eyes wavering with the effort to focus. ‘I’m good.’

  ‘You’ll be better with tea.’ She closed her hand around the bottle and pulled.

  He resisted, but only for a second, then his hand dropped away. ‘Ah, Jennifer, you always know best.’

  ‘And don’t you forget it.’

  She’d managed to inject a jovial confidence into her tone, but inside she was trembling, tears biting at the backs of her eyes. She needed to get away from him before she broke down.

  ‘Go and sit down. I’ll be back in a second.’

  He slumped off to fall onto the nearest sofa and Jennifer hurried into the kitchen, her shaky hands tapping on the kettle and reaching for mugs. She placed them on the worktop and pressed her fingers to her cheeks, breathing back the tears.

  How long had he been this bad? Why hadn’t she seen it?

  She wanted the truth out of him—all of it—and she wanted it yesterday. But right now she’d settle for having the old Tony back. The one who had given her a career break and the backing that had got her where she was today. She’d forgive him everything and deal with whatever the future held for the company, for her, for Marcus...

  The kettle bubbled with its impending boil, but its sound was broken by the shattering of glass.

  What the hell?

  She sped back through the house, her pulse racing. She entered the lounge just in time to see Tony hunching forward, reaching for the pieces of a broken photo frame at his feet.

  ‘Wait.’ She hurried over and squatted down before him. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

  He didn’t even acknowledge her as his fingers slipped the family photo from beneath the shards.

  ‘What have I done?’

  ‘Shh.’ She rested her palm against his knee. ‘It’s going to be okay—you’ll see.’

  ‘How can it be?’ he said on a shuddering sob, his distraught gaze crushing her. ‘I’ve ruined everything. My work, my family...everything.’

  ‘We can fix it... I promise,’ she said, desperate to calm him. ‘Here—put your feet up so I can clean this up.’

  Silently he did as she asked and she fled to the kitchen, telling herself it would be okay. She would get him the help he needed, whether he was willing to accept it or not. Lucy would certainly support her.