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It was simply kitted out with a desk and chair and a few wall cabinets. Practical, industrial and functional. No fuss, a bit like him, really. A few framed certificates hung on the walls, team commendations and awards for service.
When she heard the door shut behind her, she turned to see him looking at her with an earnest expression. ‘In which case, I owe you an apology.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘What for?’
‘I misread the situation.’ He came towards her. ‘I kissed you because I honestly thought what I was feeling was mutual and you felt the same.’
She swallowed awkwardly, aware of his size and his heat encroaching on her space. She wanted to back away, but the ruddy desk was behind her.
‘Maybe it was the romance of the setting, I don’t know.’ He rubbed his close-cut beard, his expression tormented. ‘We’d had such a nice weekend, and it felt like we were getting along, and you know… flirting a bit.’ He seemed sheepish, his tentativeness a contrast to his imposing frame. ‘I guess I got carried away. I’m sorry. It’s just…’ he trailed off.
‘Just what?’
He held her gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on hers. ‘You looked so pretty with your hair down, and you were smiling and laughing… you have a really infectious laugh.’
‘I do?’
He nodded. ‘It’s addictive,’ he said softly, making the hairs on her arms spring to attention.
Addictive?Was he being serious? She searched his expression for sarcasm, expecting him to admit he was joking, but he seemed genuine. ‘I only remember being agitated and prickly with you.’
He smiled. ‘You were that, too.’ There was a hint of teasing in his voice. ‘But I don’t mind that, I’m not sure why. I guess it’s part of what makes you… you. One minute you’re irate, the next you’re sweet and thoughtful. You’re strong, yet vulnerable, combative, yet willing to let your hair down. Literally,’ he said, glancing at the rigid bun wound so tightly on her head it was making her scalp ache. ‘It feels… real. Like you’re not trying to be anything other than who you are, and I like that.’
The air left her lungs with a whoosh. ‘You do?’
‘I do.’ The room suddenly felt a lot smaller, his presence a lot larger. ‘But it’s clear I overstepped and misread the situation, and for that I’m truly sorry. It won’t happen again.’
Right. Well, okay. Good.
His response was better than she could have hoped for. He wasn’t pushing things, or arguing his case – he was apologising. Accepting defeat and promising to back off. She should feel relieved. Instead, she felt a crushing sense of disappointment like she’d never experienced before. ‘It won’t?’
He shook his head. ‘Not if it isn’t what you want.’
A heavy pause followed. Neither of them reacted, each one waiting for the other to make their next move. The ball was in her court. She was faced with two options. Back off or say, ‘to hell with it’, and jump in head first.
‘What if it is what I want?’ The words were out before she could sense-check them.
He stilled. Understandably so, as she was giving him mixed messages.
A beat passed, before he said quietly, ‘Is it?’
Was it?
Oh, hell.
Her small nod coincided with her launching herself at him and banging her mouth abruptly against his. It was clumsy and inept, but he didn’t seem to mind, and any awkwardness soon morphed into the kind of embrace she’d only ever witnessed in films and never experienced first-hand. It felt like she was being consumed. Eaten alive by this bear of a man, with his big hands and wide chest.
The closer he pulled her, the hotter she became. It was like he had several pairs of hands, all of them exploring her curves, squeezing her bum and sending her mind into a frenzy. Holy cow.
Her suit jacket strained at the seams as her arms reached up around his neck, deepening the kiss. A kiss that sent waves of lust crashing through her. She’d lost all semblance of control. She couldn’t get enough of this man, he was intoxicating. She wanted more… craved more… needed more… until the door flew open and a male voice said, ‘Whoa, shit. Sorry, boss.’
The heat vanished as though someone had turned the fire hose on her.
Matt sprung away, stepping in front of her like the true gentleman he was, shielding her behind him.
She was grateful, as there was no way she wanted his work colleague seeing her in this dishevelled state. Her glasses were at half mast, her shirt was untucked and her jacket had lost a button. She suspected this was nothing compared to the state of her face, which she imagined was smeared in lipstick.
Frantically shoving everything back into place and wiping her mouth, her embarrassment shot up another notch when the man said, ‘Your mum and sister are here to see you, boss. Shall I show them in?’
