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‘I don’t know. You going to smile properly?’
Christ, I laugh. A real laugh. To hell with the tension, the chaos that led me here early, I’m laughing.
‘Better.’
The intercom goes silent and a few seconds later the door opens. She peers up at me through the gap, her heavy-lashed eyes sparkling and curious. Her make-up is soft and subtle. Her hair is gathered at the nape, loose strands falling either side of her face. I lose my voice, my head. For a moment all I can think is how beautiful she is.
She smiles at me, her head cocking to the side. One freed lock of hair teases at the opening to her gold satin robe. A robe that does nothing to conceal her curves, the pointed peak to each breast, her slender waist and her legs...they’re bare from the mid-thigh down, her feet too, her dainty toenails painted red. And even with the evidence of the evocative shade on her nails, she’s less man-eater and more...sweet and cosy, girl-next-door, and damn if I don’t want her more.
I swallow, snap my eyes back to hers.
‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Her voice is melodic—teasing and amused in one. ‘I just have to throw some clothes on.’
She pushes the door wider as she turns away, her scent lifting on the air and making me close my eyes for the briefest of seconds. When I open them again, she’s already halfway down the hall and heading for the kitchen, her bare feet padding along the marble tiles, her luscious body swaying with such provocation I’m convinced she does it on purpose. Though she can’t know how the robe glints in the white light of the hallway and enshrouds her in a captivating hue, her hair neatly twisted and making my fingers itch to untangle it, bring the seductress back, the submissive...
Fuck.My fists flex at my sides. I clear my throat and shake my head, hoping it’ll empty the inappropriate thoughts out.
‘Sorry to be early.’ I close the front door and follow her into the kitchen. ‘But I’d rather be early than late for tonight’s affair.’
She sends me a little smile over her shoulder. ‘You worried about your time-keeping or mine?’
Her smile lifts further as she laughs and reaches up into a cupboard for some glasses. ‘I get the impression that you’re many things, but I never had sexist down as being one of them.’
‘I’m not—’
‘No?’ She raises one perfectly arched brow at me.
I’m not. What I am is pre-warned by Alan that she may let me down because it wouldn’t be the first time she’s been late in recent months. But I don’t want to go there.
I raise my palms in surrender. ‘Force of habit.’
I’m relieved she’s still smiling, taking more delight in winding me up, but I’m still on edge, so very on edge. My mind wandering to the last time we were in this space and she propositioned me.
‘Can I get you a drink while you wait?’ I’m about to answer when she adds, ‘Oh, that’s right, you don’t drink. How about a tonic?’
‘A tonic would be great, thank you.’
She fills two glasses with ice, the robe shifting over her body and making me crave to feel it over her skin, to have her look at me like she did the last time. She chooses that exact moment to meet my eye and I swear she reads the whole darn lot. The teasing quirk to her lips confirms it. I rub the back of my neck, ease my open shirt collar away as her eyes fall to my lips, their depths just as distracted, just as heated, but then they’re back on the drinks.
She pours gin over ice in one and it crackles and pops, the sound adding to the electrically charged tension in the air.
‘Lime, lemon?’ she says as she pours the tonic. ‘A dash of pink peppercorn, juniper, cardamom...?’
‘Just as it comes.’
She sprinkles over her own glass what I can only deem as garnish and closes the distance between us, offering one out to me. Her scent reaches with her hand and assails me once more. It’s nice...too nice. I can’t pinpoint a single scent within it, only that it appeals to me because it’s all her and it’s haunted me since that first face-to-face meeting in her boardroom. Only now it’s fresher, stronger, not dulled by the office and the aircon and observers who will see too much.
‘Cheers,’ I say, taking the glass from her.
‘Cheers.’ She clinks hers against mine, her eyes watching me closely—too closely.
I take a sip of the cold, refreshing drink, hoping it will ease the dryness in my mouth as I search for something to say, anything to break the connection fizzing between us.
‘You obviously know what you’re doing.’ I eye her glass and the bits floating around.
Her smile is quick, but her eyes tell me she sees my remark for what it is—a distraction.
‘What can I say? I was once an exceptional hostess.’
