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Immediately she’d ended it. Or tried to. Only he’d turned nasty. He’d made her work a living hell—denigrating her in front of colleagues, giving her all the dogsbody jobs instead of the work she was trained for and, occasionally, he had still tried to touch her.
She could have taken a harassment case against him, but she’d felt too bruised already, ashamed by the knowing looks of her co-workers, the mortification of being the ‘other woman’—albeit innocently. What a fool.
So she’d packed her bags.
Now she’d met Rory. She knew nothing about him either except, in a matter of only hours and days, he’d breached her defences. She wanted him, plain and simple. Wanted to run her hands over his body, wanted to feel him hard against her, entwined with her. But she couldn’t risk ruining another job on her CV. The only way she could think to prevent it was to freeze him out. Retreat behind a frosty veneer, not look at him, not talk to him, only when necessary for work.
Chapter Three
BY WEDNESDAY afternoon Lissa knew her plan was flawed. Rory’s constant physical presence got on her nerves. For hours she held her body taut with awareness of his only a couple of feet away. When she looked up and away from her computer screen to rest her eyes, she couldn’t help but glance at him. Invariably, she would find him watching her or he would look up as she watched him. She would look quickly away, biting on her lip. When that happened for about the fortieth time that day she was so mad with her weakness she rose to make an escape to the bathroom for two minutes. Just to get away from him, to stare in the mirror and remind herself exactly why she shouldn’t be letting her lust for this guy affect her work. No distractions.
Walking back down the corridor on her way back, she was startled as her arm was wrenched and she was practically hauled into a meeting room two down from theirs. The door shut after her. She whirled round staring at Rory who now stood in front of the door, blocking her exit, his arms folded across his chest.
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, struggling to regain her equilibrium. His nearness made it difficult for her to breathe, let alone concentrate on work. The tension between them crackled. The stance accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and she felt herself soften in response to his forceful masculinity. Her breathing became shallow and she tried desperately to stay focussed on the job. Think computer passwords, think phone numbers, think of anything but how sexy he looks. Suddenly his lips twisted and he laughed a little. It made it worse.
‘Lissa, look, so we can’t be lovers, I get that and I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but can’t we at least be friends?’
She looked at him with a sceptical frown. ‘Do you really think that’s possible?’ When there was this much sexual chemistry simmering away barely below the surface, it felt as if it would take nothing for it to envelop and swamp them.
He looked across at her, his sensuous lips pressed together in a teasing half-smile. ‘Oh, I think it’s possible. I’m not going to have you on the desk at the first opportunity. I think I can keep my baser urges under control.’ He lowered his voice and challenged, ‘Why—can’t you?’
She stared back at him in silence, her mind wanting to answer but her body having fixated on the idea of having him on the desk, the idea of having him full stop. She could picture him above her, easing her onto the hard wood, papers swishing to the floor. She caught her lip with her teeth and bit down, wanting the pressure to ease the pulsing. What she really wanted was another kiss.
His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. He stepped closer. Frustrated, she tore her eyes from his and looked down. He stepped still closer and took her chin with his fingers and tilted her face back up to his. ‘Can’t you?’ he asked again, his voice rough. His fingers slid along the side of her jaw and down to her neck; his thumb gently rubbed over her lips, forcing her to free the lower one from her teeth. He rubbed his thumb back over, soothing it. It did nothing to stop the throbbing.
Their gazes locked again. She fought the urge to open her mouth and suck his thumb in. Appalled with herself, she jerked away from his touch, backing away from him so the table was between them.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not into sexual harassment.’ He glared at her, his hands on his hips. ‘I promise I won’t touch you again unless you ask.’ He stuffed his hands in his pockets as if to emphasise it. ‘If you keep freezing me out like you are today, then the rumour mill will swing into overdrive. And I know how desperate you are to avoid any sort of gossip.’ Dripping with sarcasm.
She pressed on her lips again, deciding on her reply. ‘Well, if you keep making comments like that one the other day, the tongues will already be wagging furiously.’
He raised his brows and looked mystified.
‘The one about not being “just” a temp,’ she explained crossly.
The brows shot down and a lazy smile stretched across his lips. ‘Well, you’re not “just” anything. You’re just amazing.’
She looked away, attempting to diffuse the power that smile had over her. ‘That’s not helpful, Rory.’
‘No, but at least it’s honest.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Why not try being honest about why you’re really refusing to go out with me?’
Too astute. There was more to it. She knew it and he knew it. She opted for denial.
‘I have been honest. I don’t like being talked about.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I think there’s more to it than that.’
‘Like what?’ Her heart banged even harder.
‘I think you’re scared.’
‘Of what—you?’ She tried for sarcastic but knew she’d failed. She sucked in a deep breath. He did frighten her, but she frightened herself more.
‘No. Maybe. Yes.’ His eyes bored into her. ‘Scared of this pull between us. It’s damned strong, and don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. I see it, Lissa. I see it in your eyes.’
Hell. She wondered if it would be OK to wear sunglasses in the office. She shrugged, deciding not to try to deny something that was so obvious to both of them. She knew he was right, about everything. This was Rory. Everyone got on with him, considered him an all-round good guy. The partner everyone wanted to work for. Her attempt at a reserved professional approach was too pointed, too icy to be unemotional. It would be misconstrued or, more likely, construed correctly. She needed to smarten up.
‘It’s new to me too,’ he said softly.
She closed her eyes. She sensed he spoke honestly but it terrified her. She couldn’t let her guard slip. She felt like a tiny metal pin attempting to resist a giant magnet. The laws of physics would deny her. But she knew she had to try. To jump into a fire this hot with her boss, when she had only weeks in the country? No. Not unless she wanted more heartbreak in her life. Which she didn’t.
‘I’m sorry. We’ll try to be friends.’ She looked around the room, wishing for another exit. ‘Are we done?’
He looked at her sardonically. ‘Not by a long shot.’ But he stood aside and opened the door for her. She made her escape knowing he was only two steps behind.
Lissa rubbed at the pain in her temples. Last night she and Gina had spent a reasonably quiet couple of hours over a bottle of wine, and a plate of pasta in the corner of their favourite bar alternately discussing men—Gina’s favourite topic—and travel opportunities—Lissa’s. She’d needed to escape the office and her own thoughts and had hoped that a night out with Gina would help her achieve just that. She frowned as her computer clunked through processing her latest request. It hadn’t worked. She utterly distracted; the cause of her headache was over six-feet in height and a force looming beside her, captivating her thoughts to the exclusion of all others. It was so frustrating. She sighed. Marnie noticed and guessed about her head.
‘You’ve had your hair scraped back so tightly all week it’s no wonder you have a headache.’ Without further ado she came and stood beside Lissa, undid her clip and loosened her hair so it tumbled around her shoulders.
‘Marnie!’ Lissa protested.
‘It’s for your own good. Now…’ Marnie sank her fingers into her hair and pressed on her scalp. Lissa had to admit it felt fantastic.
‘I did a massage course to learn to relax.’ Marnie explained. ‘Is that OK?’ she asked Lissa as her hands kneaded her skull right where the bands of pressure had been building.
‘Oh, it feels great.’ Lissa closed her eyes, the pain receding. ‘That’s amazing.’
‘Don’t I get one too?’ James asked with a randy light in his eye impossible for anyone to ignore.
‘No.’ Marnie was basically rude.
‘I can just watch,’ he said, unabashed. ‘I’m happy to watch.’
I bet you are. Lissa glanced at Rory to see what he was making of this bizarre situation. He was resting his jaw in his hand and watching too. A small smile flickered round his mouth.
Marnie finished. ‘There you go. All better.’
‘Can I have my clip back?’
‘No, I’m confiscating it. You should wear your hair down. It looks nice.’
She didn’t want it to look nice.
Rory looked thoughtful. ‘Anyone got special plans for lunch?’
No one answered in the affirmative. Lissa assumed he wanted them to work through, again.
‘Right, we’re going out, then. Our missed team-building date.’
Lissa suppressed a sigh. Marnie and James were already grabbing their jackets and heading out the door, eager to escape the dungeon. Lissa sat fiddling with her mouse. Rory looked at her in inquiry.
‘Do you need me?’ she asked. ‘I mean,’ she continued hesitantly as she watched the dark look grow in his face ‘you guys are the consultants. I’m just here to research and type.’
‘I’ve told you already, Lissa—’ his eyes glinted as he walked towards her ‘—you’re not just anything. You’re as much a part of this team as I am.’ He stood right next to her and bent so they were eyeball to eyeball. ‘You’re coming even if I have to make you.’
He would make her come, all right. Of that she was certain. She sat stunned at her thoughts. Cursed that her mind should interpret his words in such a James-like fashion. She simply couldn’t stop the wry twist to her lips. He saw it and his attention dropped to her mouth. Her lips softened and parted under the heat of his gaze. She heard his indrawn breath. She badly wanted to lick them they felt so dry and needy. Even more badly she wanted to taste his. Every fibre in her sprang to life as he inched tantalisingly closer.
Marnie popped her head back around the door. ‘Coming?’
Rory’s head lifted sharply. Their eyes met again and Lissa saw her own amusement reflected. He spun round. ‘Just as soon as we can.’
Marnie glanced at Lissa. Lissa smothered her appreciative chuckle, met her gaze as coolly as she could and walked out the door after her.
They went to a small Italian restaurant not far from the office. James sat next to Lissa while Marnie and Rory were across from them. It was not a large table and as they sat Lissa felt Rory’s knee press against hers. Hurriedly she moved back a little, studiously perusing the menu and avoiding the smile she knew would be on his face.
They ordered and ate and Lissa sat quietly letting the leisurely work chat wash over her. The food was delicious and she was starving. The main course passed by in a flash. She smiled at the waiter hovering near, nodding for him to hand her the dessert menu. She licked her lips as she mentally debated between the white chocolate and raspberry torte and the lemon syrup cake with raspberries. She adored raspberries. She perked up the instant the waiter reappeared, welcoming him with a beaming smile. With his eyes on her he asked if they wanted dessert or coffee.
Forgetting about the others, she ordered immediately. ‘Can I have the lemon syrup cake with raspberries and boozy cream please? And—’ with a conspiratorial smile she looked up at him ‘—can I have a little extra cream?’
The waiter smiled back. ‘Of course.’
Lissa looked around the others expectantly and was disconcerted to find them all staring at her with slightly shocked expressions. She felt like a bug under a microscope.
‘What?’ she asked in confusion. ‘Is that OK? I’m sorry. Don’t we have time for dessert? Do we have to get back to the office?’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Rory answered. He picked up the menu and glanced at it swiftly. ‘I’ll have the white chocolate and raspberry torte.’
‘Just an espresso for me,’ Marnie chimed in.
‘Ditto,’ added James.
‘You’re not having dessert?’ Lissa asked Marnie incredulously after the waiter had left. ‘I never miss dessert,’ she declared emphatically.
Marnie laughed. ‘Well, now we know how to keep you happy. You’ve been quiet as a mouse all lunch and now dessert’s on its way you’ve sprung to life.’ She gave her a critical look. ‘How do you stay so slim if you always eat dessert?’
Lissa shook her head with a smile. ‘I’m not slim. I’m tall—more room to hide it.’
‘No, you’re slim,’ Marnie disagreed. ‘Do you work out?’
‘No, I’m not a gym fan. I just walk the streets looking at things.’
She stole a quick glance at Rory and saw him smiling at her. ‘Playing the tourist?’
‘Absolutely,’ she replied, tilting her chin.
James looked from Rory to her and back again. ‘What do you do to keep fit, then, Rory? You’re in good shape and still knock back dessert.’
‘Rugby,’ came the reply as Rory sat back for the waiter to present the dish.
‘Rugby? You’ll appreciate that, Lissa, coming from the land of the All Blacks,’ James said, smiling at her with a touch of malice. ‘Don’t all Kiwi girls play rugby now too?’
‘Actually, I think of it as Thugby,’ Lissa said, concentrating on slicing her cake with a fork. ‘All that macho male aggression, jumping on each other, mucking around in mud.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Aren’t you comfortable with macho men?’ Rory challenged. ‘Rugby is a good sport for us Neanderthal types. It provides a safe environment for us work off our energy and frustration.’
Her skin prickled. Frustration, huh? She couldn’t stop raising her brows slightly. She glanced up at him and caught his fiery gaze on her.
‘I can think of better ways to do that,’ James said with his all too familiar lecherous tone.
Lissa ignored him, fascinated instead by the expression on Rory’s face. Amused, heated, knowing. They could all think of a better way to ease frustration, but, while it was James who would express it, it was Rory and Lissa who wanted to do it. She knew it and he knew it. But she couldn’t let that happen.
Marnie filled the sudden silence. ‘Are you looking forward to going home, Lissa?’
Rory looked back to his plate.
‘Yes, I haven’t been back since I left. It’ll be nice to catch up with friends. There are still a million places I want to go to, but I can travel again some time.’
‘You don’t want to stay in London?’
She shrugged. ‘Even if I wanted to I couldn’t. My working visa expires in two months and then I’ll have to leave.’
‘You could always find yourself a British husband, Lissa. Then you could work anywhere in Europe for as long as you like.’ James waggled his eyebrows. ‘If you need someone for the job, just let me know.’
The expression of distaste Rory flicked at James was comical. Lissa gave them both a saccharine smile. ‘Why, thank you anyway, James, but as I only intend to do it the once, if and when I marry it will be for love.’
She looked back at her plate, deciding to get what pleasure she could out of the wonderfully syrupy cake. The citrus scent reminded her of being in Rory’s embrace and she indulged in the headiness of it. She ate each mouthful with relish until she was left with just a few berries and a pile of cream. Throwing all good manners aside, she put her fork down and picked up a single raspberry, swirling it in the cream, covering it completely. Happily she put it in her mouth and licked the remaining cream off her fingers. It was delicious. Just the right amount of liqueur had been added to the cream to give a sweet, warm tingle in the mouth. The tartness of the raspberry a perfect foil. Ignoring the others completely, she repeated the procedure until the last of the berries was gone. Then she dabbed her finger in the cream and licked it off, glancing up and meeting Rory’s eyes as she did so. The burning intensity of his gaze shocked her and she lowered her hand nervously. Desperately she tuned back into the conversation. Marnie and James seemed to be talking tennis.
Lissa couldn’t help but look over to where Rory was dawdling his way through his dessert. ‘What’s the torte like?’
‘Magnificent.’ He looked at her with a sly smile. ‘Want to try some?’
‘Oh, no,’ she said immediately, shaking her head vehemently. ‘No. No, thanks.’
He picked up his fork and speared a piece with it. Then he held it across the table towards her. ‘Go on. You know you want to.’ His voice was as soft and tempting as the cake. His eyes held the dare.
Staring across at him, she felt the dampened flick of desire flame again. Damn, she shouldn’t have been so greedy. With his arm stretched across the table, in front of Marnie and James, it was impossible for her to refuse. Carefully avoiding contact with his fingers, she took the fork he held and lifted it to her mouth. He was right, it was magnificent, but it did nothing to assuage the hunger that clawed at her lower belly.
He was watching her intently. She handed the fork back, uncomfortably aware of the intimacy of sharing it.
‘Care for some more?’ His voice was low and she couldn’t look away from him as she silently shook her head. She sucked her lips in and pressed down on them, desperate not to lick them and show the sexual tension she was feeling. But she knew the action showed it anyway; his eyes flickered as answering heat rose.
Marnie and James had fallen silent, and Lissa remembered their presence with a start. ‘Uh, you guys want to try some?’ she asked with pseudo-brightness trying to shake off the intense atmosphere that had descended over the table. Both declined. Lissa looked away, embarrassed.
James left to make a call while Marnie rose at the same time for a trip to the bathroom. Good manners required Lissa remain and keep Rory company as he slowly ate the rest of his torte.
