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‘Yeah, you could say that.’ I sit down, careful not to flash my naked self to him, then sink back into the leather seat.
I read the news on my phone as we drive, catching up on what I’ve missed while I’ve had my head down the Jack Grant wormhole all day, and discover that a police manhunt has ended with the suspect being shot, and that a chain of supermarkets is at risk of bankruptcy.
We’re at his apartment block quickly, though, and the door opens to the familiar bank of lifts. Hughes presses a button, then swipes a keycard so that I’m granted access to the floor Jack’s penthouse is on.
‘Thanks. Goodnight, Hughes.’
‘Goodnight, ma’am.’
I laugh. ‘You know I hate it when you call me that.’
The doors swish closed on his wink.
I’m still smiling when the lift opens—but it’s transformed into a frown of curiosity as I step into Jack’s place. A couple of lights are on, casting an ambient glow, but otherwise it’s dark. There are lights coming from beyond the glass and, curious, I walk towards it.
‘Hey.’
Jack’s voice comes from down the hallway and I turn to see him emerging from one of the rooms, a towel knotted loosely around his waist.
‘I didn’t know you were on your way.’
My eyes have dropped to his bare chest. To its rhythmic rise and fall as he breathes, to the smooth tan that covers him and the hint of ink I can see above the towel.
I swallow, my throat dry, and force myself to meet his eyes. ‘How was your day?’ Crisp, professional. Safe, good.
‘Fine.’
He unwraps the towel, uncaring of his spectacular nudity, and brings it to his hair, towelling it dry. He’s semi-hard, and God knows I want to jump him then and there.
But I don’t. I’m not sure why, but something holds me immobile.
‘Good meeting with Amber?’
‘Yeah. You were right about her. She’s a good pick for the job.’
‘I think she’s got the perfect combination of experience and passion.’
His nod is droll. ‘She sure has, Miss Picton. Cocktail first?’
Damn it. I like the way he says that. It’s such a formal name, but when he says it I sound like a courtesan or something.
‘First?’ I can’t help teasing.
He drops the towel, hooking it around his body once more, and I’m glad even though it means I can’t perve at him so easily. It stops my blood from simmering itself into a fever state.
‘First. As in first, before I fuck you senseless.’ He grins, pulling me to him.
Something about this feels so right, and it should feel wrong. And awkward. I shake my head, my eyes dropping to the floor before I remember that I’ve known Jack for two years and that whatever happens we work together and I won’t be cowered by him and what we are.
‘Cocktails sound perfect.’
His smile is a flicker and then, his eyes holding mine, his smile just a smudge across his handsome face, he lifts my dress with the same reverence a groom might lift his bride’s veil and finds my nakedness.
He groans approvingly. ‘You’ve been waiting for me all day?’ His hands curve around my butt, pulling me tight to him.
‘Well, you did tear my underpants,’ I point out.
‘Sorry about that.’ His voice shows that he is anything but.
