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!
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.
