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‘Good to see nothing has changed.’ Her face softened, but her crossed arms remained a barrier between them. ‘Remember that all work and no play makes Col a dull boy.’
‘I don’t have time to play these days.’
‘But you have time to visit old acquaintances?’ She leant against the pink couch that dominated the waiting room. It took all of his will power not to drink in the sight of her slender legs encased in pink ballet tights and knee-high black leg warmers. She looked like a fantasy.
‘I’d like to think we were more than acquaintances, Ellie.’ Friends, best friends perhaps. Lovers?
She shrugged and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, waiting for him to speak. She used her silence to force him to continue the conversation—it was a trick he’d taught her once...back when she didn’t consider him a mere acquaintance.
‘Actually, I’m here with a proposal.’
Her brows rose. ‘Don’t tell me America ran out of socialites for you to sleep with.’
‘Jealous much?’ He enjoyed the flare of pink across her nose and cheeks.
‘Only that you’re here bothering me and not them.’ She tried to look bored but her muscles were tense, her body on high alert.
‘It’s come to my attention that your ballet studio is going through some difficult financial times.’ He cleared this throat, his hands automatically tugging on the cuffs of his shirt. ‘And I have a solution that I feel would be mutually beneficial.’
‘Mutually beneficial?’
‘Yes.’ He gave a sharp nod. ‘I’d like to hire you.’
She blanched. ‘You want ballet lessons?’
‘Hell no!’ A hearty laugh started all the way down in his stomach and burst forth with a soul-relieving boom. It felt good, and God knew he needed something to laugh about at the moment.
‘No need to be ashamed—male ballet dancers can still be masculine,’ she said, tilting her head to one side, studying him. ‘Or are you afraid you’ll need to pad out your tights?’
‘You know damn well I don’t need any padding down there.’
Her eyes flickered over him, as though they wanted to slide down the length of him but she was forcing her attention elsewhere.
‘I don’t want ballet lessons.’ He shook his head, wondering why on earth a grown man would want to learn ballet. ‘But I do want the advice of someone who’s been a performer her whole life.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It’s a long story but I’ve got something really important coming up and I need your expertise.’ He turned a charming grin on her, hoping to hell it had the right effect. Back in the day his smile had won her over on more than one occasion. ‘In return, I’ll make all your financial woes go away.’
She pushed up from the couch and strode towards him, closing the gap between them. Charged and dangerous. Though he had a head and a half on her she held herself with the grace of a queen. She approached him, lips ready for battle, hands balled into fists by her sides.
* * *
Had he really breezed in here, after five years of silence, wanting her help and offering to be some kind of knight in shining armour? Impossible. No one was that cocky. Perhaps all those winters in New York had frozen his brain cells beyond repair. Still, Elise couldn’t take her eyes off him...she never could. Col Hillam was like a drug; a very fun, stupid, dangerous drug.
He’d filled out since the last time she saw him when he’d still be wearing his lanky frame like an awkward uniform. Now broad shoulders stretched out beneath the white cotton of his shirt creating a neat V to the waist of his jeans. A dark smattering of hair peeked at her when he played with the cuffs of his shirt, rolling them up his muscled forearms. She stopped herself from lingering there for too long.
He was far from the quiet young man she remembered. Despite his flippant tone, the hard set of his sculpted lips and wary blue gaze spelled trouble. He was here with a goal in mind, and she’d be hard pressed to get around him.
‘Why should I help you?’
‘Because you’ve got a kind heart and a strong sense of charity?’ There was that grin again. Cocky—clearly becoming CEO had helped him grow accustomed to getting his own way.
‘Why me?’ she asked.
‘Because you’re the only one who knows me well enough.’ He raked a hand through his dark hair, fingers thrusting through the strands in a single, swift gesture.
Each movement radiated sexual energy and masculinity. It was no wonder the single shot of him in an intimate clinch with a certain technology heiress had been flashed all over the media...not that she’d been keeping tabs.
‘I’m worried for you, if that’s true.’ She couldn’t help it—some little part of her wanted to hurt him. To pay him back for those years she spent dealing with her problems confused and alone.
Her life had fallen apart when he left as if his departure had caused an irreversible ripple of tragic events. Sure, he might not have had direct influence but it had all started with him. It had been easy to blame him when he was on the other side of the world, but now he was mere inches from her and she was struggling to stay in control.
‘Ouch.’ A scowl flickered across his face, but he wouldn’t be so easy to tear down. ‘The lady has a sharp tongue.’
‘The lady also has a good bullshit detector.’ She tilted her head up at him and narrowed her eyes. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’
She sucked in a breath. Verbal sparring was like foreplay for the mind as far as Col was concerned. He didn’t need to touch her; he only needed to pour his words over her like warm honey. She squared her shoulders. She’d promised herself she would never forget how he left her, and that meant keeping her distance. She couldn’t give up that painful memory because it was what she used to shield herself against future hurt.
‘Have a drink with me tomorrow, we can sort out the business side of things and I’ll fill you in on the details.’
Going for a drink with Col was a bad idea. She was mouthy at the best of times, let alone when there were cocktails involved. That was exactly how they ended up in bed together the first time.
‘No.’
‘That’s one thing I admire about you, Elise.’ He reached out and touched her hair, smoothing the strands into place with his fingertips. ‘You’re so decisive.’
‘I don’t need your admiration.’ Her cheeks flamed. How was it that he could make a supposed compliment sound so derisive? ‘But you’re spot on, Col, and it’s with that personality trait that I can comfortably tell you to shove your proposal.’
‘You don’t even know what the proposal is.’ The corner of his mouth twitched.
‘Read my lips, Col.’ She was close enough to melt against him, and she had to fight the urge with every ounce of will power she possessed. ‘Shove it.’
‘Anywhere in particular?’ he drawled. The man was not going to back down, but she’d be damned if she’d let him pay her for anything. She might need the money, but she needed her dignity more.
‘Wherever it will fit.’
‘I’m not going to take no for an answer.’ His large hands ran up her arms to rest on her shoulders.
A frisson of excitement shot through her as his fingertips touched her bare skin, but she shook his hands off, swatting at him with force. ‘Good, because I’m not going to answer you again.’
‘You know I can be very dogged when I want to be.’
One didn’t become a CEO before they were thirty without a kind of obsessive persistence. He’d wanted her for years when they were younger and she’d dangled herself like a gleaming carrot in front of him. She’d only ever given in once...and it had been enough to unsettle the entire course of her life. Yes, it sounded a touch dramatic but the day he left, every semblance of normality she had ever known had fractured and splintered until there was nothing left. Part of her wanted someone to blame, and he was the only viable candidate.
‘Col, it takes a little more than repetition to get to me.’ She reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
‘You don’t want to encourage me, Elise.’
Hearing her full name erupt like a growl from the back of his throat sent her senses into a frenzy. She was drawn to the guttural masculinity that simmered close to the surface whenever he chased something he wanted. It was the one crack in his public façade and she found it sexier than anything else on earth.
‘I wasn’t encouraging you.’
He opened his mouth and then thought better of responding. Holding his arm out for her, he waited patiently while she took longer than she needed to walk past without touching him.
‘We should continue this conversation over drinks.’
He stood close behind her while she set the alarm code for the studio. Elise bristled at his proximity, her body primed for his touch and yet retreating at the same time. Warning bells rang a crazy, maddening cacophony in her head while she chanted to herself: don’t give in, don’t give in.
‘There isn’t a conversation to continue, Col.’
‘So turn up, I’ll buy you a few drinks and you can think about where else I can shove my proposal.’ He followed her out of the studio into the balmy summer air.
Temptation curled in her belly like a snake preparing to strike. Her otherwise enviable discipline had never extended to Col. Somehow he made her forget everything she needed to do, every obligation she had, every belief she clung to.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He brushed his thumb across her cheek so gently she might have imagined it.
He was gone before she could think to protest, leaving her to fume that he’d got one over on her. Her fists clenched again, and she took a moment to steady herself before walking to her car. He had some nerve, coming back and turning up here as if his absence hadn’t left a giant, gaping hole in her life.
Feeling her phone vibrate in her bag, Elise dug through the mess of papers and beauty products to find the buzzing device. ‘Hello?’
‘Elise Johnson?’ The male voice was unfamiliar. ‘I’m calling from Victoria Bank. Do you have a moment to talk?’
TWO (#uc4ddb125-c884-5c1f-a75c-aa80130f01a2)
Around them the café bustled as though the world wasn’t crashing down. People laughed, sunshine streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the cheerful sound of cups clinking against saucers scratched at Elise’s nerves. Perhaps a third coffee wasn’t a wise choice for someone who was already more hyper than a puppy on speed. Still, overindulging in coffee was a little better than face-planting into a tub of peanut butter and chocolate-fudge ice cream, which was exactly what she wanted to do.
The bank manager who called her last night had very politely informed her that she was at risk of defaulting on her loan for the EJ Ballet School studio. He’d asked her to come in and talk to one of the staff at the bank and explore what options were available, but Elise knew that without somehow increasing the money they were making the studio would be a goner. Then how would she support her mother?
The last twenty-four hours had been a mind-bender. Elise had flipped from telling herself it would all be okay to preparing herself for the worst, and with a night of terrible sleep behind her she felt frayed at the edges. Between her encounter with Col and the call from the bank, she’d barely eaten from the growing discomfort of nerves bundling tightly within her.
‘Ellie?’ Jasmine waved a hand in front of her face, her dark eyes narrowed. ‘You still with us?’
‘Col came to visit me yesterday.’ She hadn’t been planning on telling her friends—or anyone else for that matter—about Col’s visit but the words slipped out before she could stop them.
‘Wow.’ Missy, her other best friend slash employee, watched her with eyes wide as dinner plates. ‘That’s a surprise.’
‘I know.’
Missy fiddled with her coffee cup. ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it?’
‘Five years.’ She nodded. There hadn’t been a word from Col in half a decade...not a peep since the night he left. ‘He wants to hire me...well, kind of.’
‘What on earth for?’ Jasmine asked, incredulous.
‘He wants to hire me to do something performance related, but he didn’t tell me what it was exactly.’ It sounded more ridiculous when spoken aloud than it did in her head...if that was possible. ‘He offered to pay me.’
‘What kind of performance?’ Missy leant in, her turquoise eyes alight with curiosity. Jasmine elbowed her in the ribs, glaring.
‘Like I said, I don’t know.’
Jasmine shook her head. ‘That sounds sus...you’re not thinking about it, are you?’
Elise rolled her eyes; her friend was ever the protective mother hen. ‘I wasn’t thinking about it.’
‘But...?’
‘Maybe now I am.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s not a good idea,’ Jasmine said and Missy rolled her eyes.
‘I know that.’
‘Well?’
‘Well...’ She paused, letting out a long sigh. ‘The studio’s going through a rough patch.’
Missy’s aquamarine eyes widened. ‘You should have said something!’
‘It’s not a big deal, Miss.’
‘It is if you’re thinking of letting Col hire you,’ Jasmine replied.
‘This is my family we’re talking about...my life.’ How else would she support her drinking, gambling, all-kinds-of-screwed-up mother?
‘You deserve better.’ Jasmine shook her head, letting out a frustrated huff. ‘We’ll find a way to get the money for the studio. We can fundraise, run a charity drive...’
Missy nodded her head in vigorous agreement. ‘Anything you need.’
‘It’s a little worse than what a charity drive can help with.’ That was it; the stone-cold truth was out there. ‘Promise me you won’t tell the other teachers about this.’
The girls nodded and answered without hesitating, ‘We promise.’
Elise looked at her watch. She had precisely three hours in which to forget her dignity and plan how she was going to tell Col she was considering his offer...without even knowing what it was. How desperate was that? Her cheeks flamed at the thought; there was no way she should be doing this.
And yet he’d managed to make her the vulnerable party. Clearly his lure was as strong as it had ever been.
Closing her eyes, Elise forced the thought from her mind. She was doing this for the money and the money only. The fact that she’d wanted Col since she was old enough to understand the concept of desire was totally beside the point.
Ugh, why did she have to think about that? An uncomfortable sensation surged between her legs and Elise shifted in the hard café chair. She would not think about sleeping with Col, she would not think about sleeping with Col, she would not—
‘I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking about.’ Jasmine sighed.
‘I do,’ Missy chimed in with a wink.
‘I’m not thinking about him.’ I’m not, I’m not.
‘Like I said, don’t want to know.’ Jasmine shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us about the studio. How did it happen?’
