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‘One thing, though,’ he went on brusquely.
‘Yes?’
‘Your appearance…’
‘Yes?’
Justin wasn’t sure if what he was about to say would work. But it was the only way out of the bind he’d got himself into.
‘I—er—wondered if you’re intending to dress differently for work from now on. I mean…I’m only human, Rachel, and I wouldn’t want you coming into the office in clothes which I might find…distracting.’
She closed her eyes for a few seconds and pursed her pretty lips. ‘Justin…’ Her eyes opened again and her chin lifted in what could only be described as a defiant gesture. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said firmly, ‘but I refuse to go back to the way I used to look. I couldn’t. I’d rather resign than do that.’
‘There is no question of your resigning!’ he pronounced heatedly. Surprising, when this was what he’d been trying to make her do. Resign. But the moment she said she might he knew that was not what he wanted. He wanted Rachel to stay on, working for him. He wanted… God, he didn’t know what he wanted any more.
He smothered a weary sigh before it left his lungs. ‘You can wear what you like,’ he said. ‘Within reason, of course.’
‘I’ve never been the type of girl to dress provocatively at work, Justin. I simply won’t be wearing those awful black suits again, except perhaps tomorrow. I don’t have any other work clothes till I buy some more. I’ll pop out and buy a couple of brighter outfits during my lunch hour.’
‘Not too bright, I hope,’ he muttered, dreading anything which would constantly draw his eyes and rev up his hormones. ‘What about your hair?’
‘What about it? Don’t tell me it’s too bright as well.’
No, just too damned sexy the way you’re wearing it today.
‘Would you consider wearing it back up again?’ he suggested in desperation. ‘I’ve always thought that a suitable look for work.’
She sighed. ‘Very well, I’ll put my hair up.’
‘And not too much make-up.’
‘I have never worn too much make-up, either. I only have lipstick on at this moment.’
‘Really?’
He would have sworn she was wearing much more. Her skin looked so pale and clear, yet her cheeks were glowing. As for her eyes… He’d always known they were her best feature but had they always had such long lashes?
‘Don’t worry, Justin,’ she said with more than a touch of irritation in her voice. ‘I won’t waltz in to work looking like the office slut. And I promise I’ll wear underwear.’
His stomach jolted at the thought of her walking around the office without anything on underneath her clothes. What a shockingly appealing idea!
Justin suppressed a sigh and wondered how long it would be before Rachel stopped being the object of his sexual fantasies. A week? A month? A year?
Damn, but he wished he’d resisted temptation last night. And he wished he’d never suggested that bloody make-over. He wanted his old Rachel back. She didn’t stir his blood or challenge his conscience. She was sweet and kind and calming. This new Rachel was anything but calming. Even now, he wanted to say to hell with all this conciliatory chit-chat, let’s just go back to bed and stay there all day. And to hell with underwear in the office as well. I want you buck-naked under your clothes. And no bra. Never a bra. I want your beautiful breasts accessible to my touch at the flick of a button. I want to be able to lift your skirt at any time and lean you over my desk and just do it. I want…
Justin’s fantasies were really running away with him when a sudden appalling realisation reined them in. What he wanted to do with Rachel was exactly the sort of thing Mandy’s rapacious boss had been doing with her!
Justin’s blood ran cold at the thought, which was good. Very good. And very effective.
His burgeoning arousal ebbed away immediately.
That was what he’d do in future. Think of Mandy whenever these unacceptable desires struck. Pity he hadn’t thought of the bitch last night. But better later than never!
Rachel realised that her attempt at a little joke about her underwear had backfired when Justin’s back stiffened and his face took on an icily disapproving expression. Truly! It was getting difficult to remember him as the red-hot lover who’d made her do all the deliciously wicked things he’d made her do last night.
All of a sudden, he was acting like some prude!
Still, maybe that was what he basically was. A prude. Maybe he had been drunker last night than he seemed at the time.
Whatever, it was clear he deeply regretted having sex with her and was doing his level best to return their relationship to its previous professional-only status, even going so far as to want her to go back to looking much the same as she used to.
Fat chance of that, buster, she thought with private mutiny. If you want me to revert to plain-Jane mode, how about you doing something about your looks? Why don’t you stack on twenty kilos, and put a paper bag over your head for good measure? Oh, and start wearing grotty, nerdy clothes, none of those super-suave suits you wear into the office, or that coolly casual outfit you’ve got on at the moment. After all, sexual attraction—and distraction—was a two-way thing.
From the moment she’d set eyes on him again this morning, her heart had quickened and her eyes had surreptitiously gobbled him up. Frankly, it had been an effort so far not to keep staring at him in those smart beige trousers and that sexy black open-necked shirt. She supposed she should be grateful that he wasn’t wearing shorts, but she was still brutally aware of what lay beneath his clothes. All that working out in the gym had produced a fantastic body. Talk about toned and honed! She hadn’t been able to stop touching it last night.
In fact, she hadn’t stopped touching it. If truth be told, she wanted to touch it again. Right now.
Rachel gave herself a savage mental shake and rose to her feet.
‘I’ll make us some coffee to go with this food,’ she said, glancing resignedly at the two plates of mixed sandwiches that were sitting on the table. She still didn’t have any appetite and would definitely need help in washing bread down her throat.
‘You don’t have to wait on me,’ he said curtly, and rose to his feet as well. ‘I’ll help.’
Getting the coffee together was awkward. When Justin brushed her arm Rachel jumped away as though she’d been stung by a bee. When he glared at her she winced inside.
Lord, but she was like a cat on a hot tin roof around him. The lightest of touches and her skin felt scalded.
Rachel could only hope that time would lessen this sudden and intense physical awareness. After all, last night was still fresh in her mind. And her body was still harbouring some solid reminders as well. She felt tender in some places and rock-hard in others. On top of that, her whole system was suffering from a general feeling of agitation, which was perverse, since all that sex should at least have relaxed her nerves, not fired them up.
Hopefully, things would improve when they were back into their normal working-day routine. It wasn’t helping that they were still alone together in this hotel, well away from their real lives. Perhaps that was another reason why they’d both acted so out of character last night. A romantic setting was well-known for undermining people’s sexual defences. A woman’s, anyway.
Rachel’s hand shook as she picked up her cup and saucer, some coffee slopping into the saucer. Justin shot her another impatient look, which irked her considerably.
‘OK, so I’m clumsy this morning,’ she snapped. ‘We can’t all be perfect all the time.’
‘I would have thought that was obvious after last night,’ he retorted, and carried his coffee back to the terrace without spilling a drop.
Rachel fumed as she followed. What a pig, she began thinking. And she’d always imagined him to be kind. Why, he was nothing but a typical male. Trying to put the blame on her for last night. He’d been the one to kiss her first! He was the one to open Pandora’s box. And now he was trying to shove her back in there again and close the lid.
Well, she was not going to go. She was free now. Free of Eric. Free of the past. Free to be the woman she wanted to be.
Which was not some mealy-mouthed creature who was too afraid to speak up or be herself lest she lose her job. There were plenty more PA positions to be had. And plenty more men out there who could turn her on. She didn’t need Justin McCarthy to provide her with either a salary or sex.
Despite her disgruntled state, Rachel decided that in deference to having to tolerate Justin’s constant company for the next few hours, she would hold her tongue for today. But, come tomorrow, if he started pressuring her to be something she wasn’t she’d start looking around for another job.
Because there was no going back after this. The die had been cast and she intended to roll with it!
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_0f46f219-e00b-5e7e-a257-b0afe8643bfb)
JUSTIN could not believe it when he walked into work the following morning—a cowardly half an hour late—and found Rachel wearing what he’d always thought her dreariest black suit, yet looking so sexy, it was sinful.
The severely tailored jacket with its long sleeves and lapelled neckline seemed tighter, and more shapely, hugging her small waist and full breasts. Had she taken it in at the seams? She’d definitely taken the skirt up, he realised when she brought in his morning coffee, the hem now a couple of inches above her knees instead of sedately covering them. And she was wearing black stockings. Not the thick, opaque, sexless kind. The sheer, silky, sexy kind which drew a man’s eye and made him picture them attached to suspenders.
When he started wondering just that he wrenched his eyes back up to her face, which wasn’t much help. OK, so she had put her hair up, as he’d requested. But not the way she’d used to, scraped back severely into a knot. It was caught up very loosely with a long black easily removable clip. Several strands had already escaped its ineffectual clasp to curve around her chin, drawing his gaze to her mouth, a mouth which bore no resemblance to Rachel’s usual workaday mouth. It was more like that mouth which had tormented and teased him on Saturday night. Blood-red and full and tempting. Oh, so incredibly tempting.
Justin clenched his teeth hard in his jaw and dropped his gaze back to his work. ‘Just put the coffee down there, thank you, Rachel,’ he said brusquely, nodding to a spot near his right hand.
When she lingered in front of his desk without saying a word he was finally forced to look up. ‘Yes?’ he said sharply. ‘What is it?’
‘Could I have a longer lunch hour than usual today, Justin?’ she asked. ‘I have some clothes shopping to do. I’ll work late to make up for it.’
Justin no longer cared what clothes she bought. She couldn’t look any sexier to him if she tried, anyway.
‘Yes, yes.’ He waved her off impatiently. ‘Take all the time you need.’ The rest of my life, preferably.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Rachel,’ he bit out. ‘Quite sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to write this report for Guy.’
‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ the man himself said as he strode in.
Justin welcomed the distraction. ‘Aah. You’re back from Melbourne earlier than I expected,’ he said, glad to have an excuse to ignore Rachel. ‘How’s your father?’
‘Much better. It was one of those nasty viruses. He was rotten on Friday and Saturday but on the improve by yesterday. So what did you think of Sunshine Gardens?’
‘Take a seat and I’ll tell you. Close the door as you go out, would you, Rachel?’
Justin noticed that Guy’s eyes followed her as she did so.
He gave a low whistle after the door clicked shut. ‘So that’s your new PA,’ he said, with meaning in his voice. ‘You lucky dog, you. I love pretty women in black. Though, of course, I prefer them in nothing at all.’
‘There’s nothing between Rachel and myself,’ Justin lied staunchly, his face a stony mask.
Guy chuckled. ‘That’s your story and you’re going to stick to it. Wise man. Office affairs are best kept behind closed doors. And hotel-room doors. So how was your weekend junket? Everything to your satisfaction?’ And he grinned lecherously.
Justin decided to ignore Guy’s none-too-subtle innuendoes and plunged into giving him a brisk report on the hotel as a property investment. Naturally, he didn’t mention their not having been to the presentation dinner. He let Guy think they had. Justin had watched the video last night and hadn’t changed his mind about the place, despite the glowing marketing spiel.
‘So that’s my professional opinion,’ Justin finished up. ‘Added to the fact I think it’s a lemon, I also gleaned some valuable inside information from a lady real-estate agent there for the free weekend. Apparently, the client she was representing is intent on purchasing the hotel at any price. I never think it’s a good idea to get into a bidding war with that kind of buyer.’
‘This agent could have been bluffing.’
‘Yes, but I don’t think so.’
‘Mmm. Do you happen to know who this interested party is?’
‘No. Just that he’s filthy rich and has an ego the size of his cheque-book.’
‘I heard a whisper that Carl Toombs is thinking of going into the property market up that way.’
Justin struggled to keep his face unreadable. No one at AWI knew the circumstances behind his divorce. No one knew that his ex-wife was Carl Toombs’ secret mistress. No one except him and Mandy and his mother.
Justin’s own ego had kept their secret for them.
So of course he could not be seen to react to Carl Toombs’ name in any way other than a professional one.
‘The man certainly fits the description the agent gave of him,’ he said coolly. ‘She said her client always gets what he wants, money no object.’
And wasn’t that the truth? He’d set his sights on a married woman who’d been deeply in love with her husband at the time—Justin still believed that—and totally corrupted her, with his money, his charisma and his supposed sexual prowess.
Justin hated the man with a passion. As did quite a lot of other people in Australia, people who’d invested in some of his previous entrepreneurial get-rich-quick schemes. Some had succeeded, but a good few had failed. Yet somehow Toombs always managed to extricate himself with his own fortune intact. He had brilliant lawyers and accountants, and the best of contacts, both in the political and social scene. Married twice, with an adult daughter from his first marriage and two teenage sons from his present wife, Carl Toombs was in his early fifties, but looked a lot younger, courtesy of his personal dietician, trainer and cosmetic surgeon.
When Mandy had first gone to work for Carl Toombs she’d made jokes about his vanity and massive ego. Justin had joined in. But the joke had been on Justin in the end. Carl Toombs had come out on top. Literally.
Thinking about that swine and Mandy inevitably put Justin in a foul mood. ‘I hope Toombs buys the place,’ he went on testily. ‘And I hope he loses a packet. Of his own money for a change.’
Guy looked taken aback. ‘Sounds as if you lost some of your money in one of his famous ventures.’
Justin gritted his teeth. He’d lost something he valued much more than money. ‘Let’s just say he wouldn’t want to meet me in a dark alley on a dark night.’
Guy laughed. ‘And there I’ve been, thinking you’d never put a foot wrong financially.’
‘We all make mistakes, Guy. That’s how we learn.’
‘And what did tangling with Toombs teach you?’
‘Never to underestimate a man who has more money than I have.’
‘True,’ Guy said, nodding sagely. ‘OK, so you don’t suggest that I recommend Sunshine Gardens to the CEO.’
‘Not if you value your job.’
Guy laughed, then stood up. ‘See you tomorrow morning at the gym?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Don’t work too hard.’
‘You don’t really mean that.’
Guy smiled. ‘Nope. I hope you work your butt off. Profits have been up since you came here. I even sleep at night sometimes.’
‘Get out of here. And tell Rachel to bring me another coffee when you go past, will you? This one’s gone cold.’
‘Will do. I might stay and watch her do it, too. That girl has an incredible walk. And a derrière to die for. But I suspect you already know that, McCarthy,’ he threw over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. ‘No wonder you work out every morning till you’re ready to drop. Can’t be easy keeping your hands off that nice piece of skirt out here.’
Justin groaned. ‘For pity’s sake, Guy, keep your voice down. She might hear you. Haven’t you heard of sexual harassment in the workplace?’
Guy shrugged and put his hand on the door knob, but he didn’t turn it. ‘I could be mistaken, mate, but I caught a glimpse of something in your PA’s very lovely eyes a few minutes ago which indicated she might not be averse to a little sexual harassment from you.’
