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“Oh crap, what the hell will I wear?” Both of us jump off the couch and run toward my bedroom, giggling like schoolgirls, knowing the next few hours will be fashion parades of outfits, trying to dress like I can fit into his world. Well, just for a few days, anyway.
NICHOLAS
I have no idea why I did what I did this afternoon.
After storming out of the office, I came home and threw myself into work because I thought the stupidity of my actions would unravel themselves in my brain to make sense. But instead, all it’s done is make me ponder how I’m going to manage a week with a woman who pushes my buttons like no one has ever done before. Yet I can’t stop thinking about having her underneath me in all sorts of sensual ways.
Knowing that can never happen doesn’t stop my cock from reacting to the thoughts anyway.
She infuriated me so much in the meeting, talking about my family name with such disrespect. Doesn’t she know how important it is to me and the reputation of the business? Did she even bother to research me? Fuck, my whole life is broadcast across the internet. Most of it is bullshit, yet people will believe it anyway. That’s what they do. I don’t care what they say about me, because all I care about is what my mother thinks of me. It’s my motto in my life and business decisions. If it’s not something my mother would be proud of, then it’s not the right decision. At times, it’s questionable whether I have stayed true to that. Sadly, today is one of those days.
Running for an hour on the treadmill with a mixture of old-school Aussie rock, AC/DC, Cold Chisel, and Jimmy Barnes screaming in my ears didn’t even help. All I could think of when the song “Thunderstruck”came on was her. The red whirlwind of fire that stood in my office and challenged me like no one ever has. She struck me, all right, and not in a good way. I lost my mind. To the point I’m now spending the next seven days with her. I can’t seem to spend more than five minutes around her before something goes wrong. How will either of us survive a week in close confines? Maybe I can shut it down early, make up some emergency that I need to come back to London for. Or get one of the boys to take my place.
Wait, no, that’s a terrible idea. I wouldn’t trust Flynn or Rem anywhere near Tori. The only one I might contemplate is Forrest, but then they always say you should watch out for the quiet ones. And to be honest, Tori would eat Forrest alive. That would just be cruel to make him suffer through that.
Don’t get me wrong, these three men are the best friends and business associates that I could ask for, and I would trust them with the security code to my safe. But deep down in my gut, I know that I’m not letting any one of them near Tori.
That thought alone sends dangerous alarms off in my head.
Rolling to the side in my bed and looking out the window, I wish I could see the stars, but yet again, it was another gray day in London, with plenty of depressing cloud cover. The clock beside my bed shows one twenty-five am, and I’m still overthinking it all. I need to get some sleep to find the calm in my body. If I turn up at the airport tomorrow wound up this tight, then it’s just going to start the trip off badly.
Closing my eyes, the voice in my head finds the rational spot. This is a business trip. Treat it like one. You are not with a woman you want to fuck. She is here to get a job done. And that job isn’t me. Treat her like Jocelyn, a necessary part of the job that you tolerate but will never get close to. That’s it, the key to getting through this week.
It’s like my brain found the answer, and sleep finally finds me. In my head, I just keep repeating the mantra for the week.
Business, not pleasure, and do not fucking touch her.
As I drift off to sleep, the more mixed up the mantra gets, until it becomes,“pleasure of fucking her,”and the dream that will also end up being my nightmare begins.
* * *
I could have taken the car with Wallace to pick Tori up, but that would be giving her the wrong impression. Plus, I need to put distance between us in place from the beginning of the trip, for my own sanity.
Sitting on the plane waiting for her, I wonder if she did as I asked and made sure she was ready on time. If she thinks I’ll put up with disorganization, then she’s mistaken. Hearing a car door outside the jet, I look at my watch. I’m a little surprised that she’s early. I’m settled already in my seat, waiting for her to enter, feeling apprehensive with the anticipation of how this is all going to go.
The steward escorts her into the cabin, and stepping to the side, I finally see her. And to be honest, I think for the first time I am actually seeing Tori’s vulnerable side. The confidence she had marching into my office yesterday morning is long gone.
Wanting to put her at ease a little, I stand and extend my hand to her. Tentatively, she reaches out, and as we shake, there is that persistent niggle in my body from her touch. One I push down and choose to ignore.
“Good morning, Ms. Packer, please make yourself comfortable in whichever seat suits you,” I say, motioning around the cabin which has eight single seats available, minus the one I have already claimed which is at the back of the plane, letting me see everything in front of me. More importantly, seeing Tori.
“Good morning, Mr. Darby. Thank you for this opportunity.” She slides into a seat that is the farthest one from where I am already set up. I understand why she’s choosing to avoid me after our encounter yesterday.
“You’re welcome, and can we drop the formalities? It’s going to be a long week otherwise.” Although I love being referred to as Mr. Darby, and the memories it holds, I just want to try to relax her a little. The tension in her body is evidence of the way she is feeling. Her shoulders are hunched, and the constant fidgeting of her hands are tell-tale signs she’s nervous.
“Okay, should I call you Nicholas?” Her sassiness is starting to raise its head again.
“Only if you want me to call you Victoria.” Which I do like on her. It suits her, and the vision of her asleep on my shoulder creeps back into my mind; that is how I see her as Victoria. Her quiet beauty radiating from her in her stillness. Usually, she is so unaware of how others see her because she is too busy trying to tackle the world.
“Fine, Nicholas it is then.” Ughh, I can see the antagonistic Tori has now decided to join us. Like I said, we can’t last five minutes without irritating each other.
“Can I organize a drink for you, Victoria?” I ask, emphasizing her name, trying to piss her off enough she will drop it, but instead, I see her confidence picking up as she sits a little taller in the seat, rolling her shoulders back.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” she says, placing the belt over her lap. “We both have a lot of work to do.” She’s already reaching into her bag to pull out her laptop and phone. “Considering you aren’t the only portfolio I have to work on this week. I do have other clients who are important, although not so demanding.”
And there it is. The first barb thrown for the day.
“Not as important as me. You are now on my time, and you will concentrate on me and my proposal and only that. Nothing else.” The harshness of my words takes us both aback a bit. Why does she manage to draw it out in me?
