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‘Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.’
He dragged in a breath, another, staring at the iconic city landmarks so many floors down. Flinders Street Station, Federation Square, St Patrick’s Cathedral—buildings he’d explored as a kid on school excursions, usually with this woman by his side.
What the hell was he doing, contemplating telling her the truth? It wouldn’t end well.
But he knew one thing for sure. He couldn’t go on like this.
It had been two measly days since he’d marched back into her life, and this relentless, driving urge to have her wasn’t going away any time soon. In fact it would probably intensify the more time they spent together working.
Probably best to get it out of his system? Then focus one hundred percent on blowing the competitors away?
But how did he tell her without sounding like an ass?
Hey, Saph, the reason I keep kissing you—can’t keep my hands off you. Want into your pants. Now.
Yeah, that would go down a treat.
‘Not like you to be at a loss for words.’ She removed her hand and he instantly wished he’d grabbed it and held on. ‘Maybe working with you is going to be tolerable after all?’
A reluctant chuckle spilled from his lips and he turned to face her.
And that was when he knew he couldn’t tell her about his driving need to ravish every inch of her body.
Staring into her guileless eyes, seeing concern clouding their perfect blue, he couldn’t do it.
Ten years had passed, but how well did he really know her? If she’d freaked out back then, what was to say she wouldn’t do it now and jeopardise the entire showing?
He needed this Hollywood glamour idea to fly. He needed to wow audiences and critics and guarantee that orders flooded in. He needed to show everyone he wasn’t the wealthy flake they wrongly assumed.
And that meant focussing on the goal and not on his rampant libido.
‘We have to make this work. It’s important to me.’
Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she’d doubted his sincerity before but didn’t now.
‘Me too,’ she said, her nod brisk and businesslike. ‘You meet with your designers, I’ll put the PR machine in motion, and we’ll reconvene later today.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
He liked plans. Plans were orderly and well thought out and logical. The opposite of the uncertainty rioting through him.
‘We should do dinner.’
It was a vast improvement on what he really wanted to say: We should do each other.
A tiny crease reappeared between her brows. ‘A working dinner, you mean?’
He’d prefer something along the lines of cosy and candlelit, with the two of them naked, but he’d settle for working. It was the one thing to keep him focussed away from wanting her, right?
‘We’ll be working long into the evening—stands to reason we need to eat.’
‘Okay, then.’
She’d reverted to brusque and he mentally kicked himself for wanting what he couldn’t have.
‘Meet back here at five?’
He glanced around the room, at the contemporary sterility, and made a rash decision he’d probably live to regret.
‘How about we meet at Seaborns? That way you can show me what Ruby has in mind for some of the major pieces?’
‘Sure, that’s doable.’
There he went again. One word—doable—and he could see the two of them doing each other.
‘Better get cracking.’
He mentally cringed at how abrupt he sounded, not surprised when she shot him a sideways glance.
But in true Sapphire form she didn’t push the issue or demand answers. She picked up her portfolio, hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder, and headed towards the door.
With her hand on the doorknob, she paused. ‘Want to hear something crazy?’
Crazier than how badly he wanted her?
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m actually looking forward to this.’
Her impish grin as she eased through the door made him want to stride across the office and haul her back in.
She wasn’t the only one looking forward to the month ahead.
Who said he couldn’t mix a little pleasure with business?
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_82f8045b-4db7-5893-a716-1cd555b9098c)
RUBY AND OPAL had a plate of double-coated Tim Tams waiting for Sapphie when she got back.
They’d closed the showroom and were lounging around the makeshift living room near Ruby’s studio. It was a new addition in her absence and, while she liked Ruby having a place to chill between inspiration hits, it reminded her of her failure.
She should have been here.
Instead she’d been recuperating after being an ass, not trusting Ruby enough to share the responsibilities of running Seaborns, and driving herself into the ground because of it.
If she hadn’t wound up chronically tired, her body aching all over, barely able to lift her head off the pillow because of the headaches…No, she wouldn’t think about the possible consequences of her controlling behaviour. Not today, when hopefully she’d ensured that Seaborns would never face the threat of closure ever again.
She’d been so stupid, thinking she could control everything. Lucky for her, her body had sent out some pretty powerful warning signals, and she’d listened before the chronic fatigue syndrome had really taken hold.
For weeks before she’d finally admitted defeat she’d existed on caffeine energy drinks and liquid vitamins, trying to push through the tiredness, taking on a bigger workload.
It wasn’t as if she’d never been tired before. Running a business took its toll, and she’d been used to functioning on minimal sleep and snatched meals.
Until her body had other ideas.
She’d pulled yet another all-nighter after a long week of meetings with accountants and suppliers, had been in the process of downing her second energy drink for the morning, when she’d fainted, clipping her head on the corner of her desk on the way down.
Ruby had heard the noise, panicked when she’d found her unconscious and called an ambulance.
She’d come to before the paramedics arrived, but by the hard glint in Ruby’s eyes Sapphie had known her number was up and she couldn’t fool anyone any longer.
The paramedics might have pronounced her vital signs to be sound, but that hadn’t stopped Ruby badgering her into a doctor’s visit and a thorough physical.
Sapphie had barely got through the preliminaries before admitting defeat. Her body simply hadn’t been holding up under the pressure she was placing on it.
If Ruby’s scathing scolding hadn’t convinced her to take three months off and check into a health spa the doc would have.
The moment she’d heard the long-term repercussions of CFS she’d booked a place at Tenang ASAP. Ongoing joint pain, visual disturbances, recurring sore throats, chronic cough, chest pain, allergies, depression…She’d asked the doc to stop around then, wishing she hadn’t been so stubborn in shouldering Seaborns without real help.
She’d had a lucky escape, had listened to her body’s symptoms in time, but every morning when she woke she experienced a moment of fleeting panic that maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought she was.
She went through the same daily routine now: deep breaths, ten in total, pushing her abdomen out, filling her lungs. Followed by pointing her toes towards the end of the bed five times, contracting her leg muscles. Bicycling in the air, loosening up her back. A few gentle reps of abdominal curls, finished with a hands-overhead stretch from top to bottom.
It had become a ritual, a way of ensuring her muscles woke slowly before she actually got out of bed, a way of caring for them when she hadn’t before.
The regular meditation and yoga sessions had helped her reconnect with her body too, and she actually looked forward to the muscle-twanging stretches and peaceful interludes within a busy day.
As for her diet, she’d ditched the caffeine, always managed to scrounge three small protein-rich meals a day and drank her weight in filtered water.
She needed her body in tip-top working order, and making Seaborns successful now had more to do with proving that her physical strength hadn’t diminished as keeping a promise to her mum before she’d died.
Ruby patted the sofa next to her. ‘Take a seat and tell us everything.’
Where should Sapphie start? The part where Patrick had kissed her again and she’d let him? Or the part where they almost needed a force field to keep them from ripping each other’s clothes off whenever they got within two feet?
That meeting in his office had been horrendous—much worse than she’d anticipated. Not on any professional level, he’d seriously impressed her there, but for the simple fact she couldn’t explain where the heady sexual tension had sprung from.
If she’d had to deal with that during Year 12 she would’ve failed Biology for sure.
He wasn’t helping matters either, playing up to it. Not that she should be surprised. It was what he did.
But her reaction…The flushed skin, the sweaty palms, the buzz thrumming her body…Inexplicable.
She couldn’t afford to be attracted to Patrick—not when they’d be working on this campaign together.
Try telling that to her body.
And that was what bugged her the most. She’d been going to great lengths to take care of her body yet in one hour he’d managed to make her feel alive in a way she hadn’t for a long time.
She could put it down to endorphins, the euphoria associated with nailing her presentation, but what was the point in lying?
Her body had hummed because it strained to be naked with Patrick’s, endorphins or not.
‘There’s not much to tell,’ Sapphie said, hoping her cheeks wouldn’t show a betraying blush.
‘Yeah, and I’m about to abseil down the Eureka Towers wearing nothing but a tiara,’ Ruby said, shaking her head. ‘You know we’ll make it up if you don’t tell us.’
Sapphie settled for the abridged version.
‘Patrick came up with the idea of old Hollywood glamour as the lynchpin of his Fashion Week show.’ She cradled her tea, the warmth a welcome infusion for her icy hands. They matched her cold feet after spending too many hours one-on-one with the guy who made her body hum just by being near him. ‘I think it’s fantastic.’
‘Sure is.’
Opal slid the plate of Tim Tams across to her and Sapphie took two, demolishing the first before the chocolate oozed onto her fingers.
‘This is going to gain recognition for Seaborns overseas. I just know it.’
‘Great going.’ Ruby nudged her with an elbow. ‘Now tell us the rest.’
Opal stifled a giggle and Sapphie glared at her sister. ‘What have you been saying?’
‘Nothing.’
Ruby’s deliberately wide eyes and faux innocent smile wouldn’t have fooled anyone. ‘When our lovely cuz was helping me do inventory I happened to mention the way Patrick looked at you yesterday.’ Ruby pointed at Opal. ‘Not my fault if she jumps to conclusions.’
Opal snorted. ‘If memory serves correctly, you were the one waxing lyrical about Saph “needing to get some” and Patrick being “ just the guy to give it to her”.’
Sapphie glared at Ruby. ‘Tell me you didn’t say that.’
‘Okay, then, I won’t tell you.’ Ruby winked and crammed another Tim Tam into her mouth while Sapphie resisted the urge to bury her face in the nearest cushion to hide any incriminating blushes.
Opal studied her over her skinny latte before placing the coffee glass on the table. ‘We looked him up Saph, and I have to say he’s incredibly hot. If he’s half as good in person as he is on screen…’
Great. Just what she needed. Her cousin and her sister joining forces in trying to get her laid.
‘I used to dissect frogs with the guy. It kinda takes the shine away.’
‘Bull—’ Ruby covered the rest of her declaration with a fake sneeze. ‘I saw the way you looked yesterday after he’d dropped around.’
‘Tired and frazzled?’
Ruby made a buzzing sound. ‘Incorrect. Try perky and glowing.’
‘You’re full of it,’ Sapphie said, glancing at Opal for support.
She shrugged and picked up her coffee to hide a burgeoning grin.
‘Okay, then, let’s look at this rationally.’ Ruby elbowed her. ‘You’ve been recuperating for months, and for half a year before that you were steadily driving yourself into the ground— which is why you almost ended up with severe chronic fatigue syndrome.’
