was no wonder Justin had an aversion to sex in the office. Rachel understood completely. But it was time for him to forget the past and move on, as she had decided to do.
Of course, she’d had four years to come to her present state of heart and mind. Justin’s wife had betrayed and abandoned him much more recently. Only two years ago. And she’d said truly dreadful things to him, according to Eric.
What kind of things? Rachel wondered during the lift ride back up to the fifteenth floor. Had she criticised his skills in bed? Hard to imagine that. Justin left Eric for dead as a lover. And every other boyfriend she’d ever had. Perhaps the wretched woman had told him he wasn’t rich enough, or powerful enough? Who knew?
Rachel didn’t dare ask him, but she dared a whole lot more. She dared to go back and tell him she’d changed her mind about resigning. She dared to stay. And she dared to go after some more of what they’d shared on Saturday night.
If truth were told, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Surely he had to be thinking about it, too. Rachel could be wrong but she suspected she was the first woman Justin had had sex with since his wife left him.
The thought amazed, then moved her to anger. Selfish people like Eric and Mandy had a great deal to answer for. But you couldn’t let them get away with trampling all over your emotions, and your life. You had to stand up and fight back. You had to stop playing the victim and move on. There were other people out there. Other partners. But you had to be open to finding them. You had to embrace new experiences, not run away from them.
Rachel left the lift at her floor and hurried along to her office, her new-found boldness waning a little once she approached the door she’d slammed shut less than an hour ago. Suddenly, she was biting her bottom lip and her stomach was churning. Was Justin still there behind that door, sitting at his computers, slaving away? Probably. It wasn’t lunch time yet, and her boss had no reason to go home. He had nothing in his life except his work, a bruised ego and a broken heart.
Till now, that was. Now he had her. Her friendship and companionship. Her body too, if he still wanted it.
Her hand was shaking by the time she summoned up enough courage to knock. But it was a timid tap. Annoyed with herself, she didn’t knock again. Instead she turned the door knob and went right in.
‘Oh, no,’ she groaned, her gaze darting around Justin’s empty office.
Rachel was battling with her disappointment when she heard a banging noise coming from inside one of the adjoining rooms, the one with the bar and the sofa in it. Before her courage failed her again she marched over and flung open the door.
Justin almost dropped the ice-tray he was holding. He hadn’t expected to see Rachel again. Not that day, anyway. After she’d left he’d tried to work, but he’d been too distracted, and too depressed to concentrate. In the end, he’d come in here in search of some liquid relaxation.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ she threw at him.
Her accusing tone—plus her unexpected reappearance—didn’t bring out the best in him.
‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ he countered belligerently. ‘I’m getting myself some ice to put in my Scotch. But the bloody stuff’s stuck.’
‘But…but you never drink during the day!’
‘Actually, you’re wrong there,’ he said drily. ‘I often drink during the day. Just not usually during the week.’ He gave the ice-tray another bang on the granite bar-top and ice cubes flew everywhere.
‘Don’t do that!’ he roared at her when she hurried over and began picking up the ice cubes. Damn it all, the last thing he wanted was for her to start bending over in front of him.
She ignored him and picked them up anyway, giving him a good eyeful of her derrie`re-to-die-for. ‘You shouldn’t drink alone, you know,’ she said as she straightened and dropped several cubes into his glass.
‘What do you care?’ he snapped, irritated by her presence beyond belief. ‘You’re not my keeper. You’re not even my PA any more.’
‘I am, if you still want me to be. I came back to tell you I don’t want to resign. I want to keep working for you.’
He laughed. ‘And you think that’s good news? What if I said I don’t want you working for me any more? What if I said your resigning was exactly what I wanted?’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘She doesn’t believe me,’ he muttered disbelievingly, and quaffed back a mind-numbing mouthful of whisky. ‘So what do I have to say to make you believe me?’
‘There’s nothing you can say,’ she pronounced, and gave him one of those defiant looks of hers. Damn, but she had a mouth on her. What he wouldn’t like her to do with it!
He tossed back another decent swig and decided to shock her into leaving again.
‘What if I told you that since Saturday night whenever I look at you I’m mentally undressing you? What if I confessed that after you made that joke about you not wearing any underwear it became my favourite fantasy, you not wearing any underwear around the office? What if, when you accused me of having screwed you good and proper, my first thought was that I hadn’t screwed you nearly enough?’
She just stared at him, clearly speechless.
‘That’s only the half of it,’ he went on after another fortifying swallow of straight Scotch. ‘When you brought me that coffee this morning after Guy left it wasn’t coffee I wanted from you but sex. I wondered what you’d do if I asked you to lock the door and just let me do it to you right then and there across my desk. From behind,’ he added for good measure.
Her eyes grew wider but she still hadn’t said a word. She seemed rooted to the spot, frozen by his appalling admissions.
The trouble was, giving voice to his secret sexual fantasies about her had also had the inevitable effect on his body. Or was it just her, standing there in front of him, within kissing distance?
‘Well? What would you have done?’ he demanded to know, his raging hormones sparking more recklessness.
She finally found her tongue. ‘I…I don’t know,’ came her astonishing answer.
‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’ he shot back, floored by such an ambiguous reply.
‘I mean I don’t know. I was angry with you back then. Why don’t you ask me now?’
My God, she meant it. She actually meant it.
His hand tightened around his glass and his head spun. So that was why she’d come back, was it? Because she wanted him to seduce her again. He’d suspected this might be the case when she’d come in this morning looking good enough to eat, but he’d been hoping he was wrong.
Any hope of that, or that he could keep resisting temptation disappeared as swiftly as the rest of his Scotch. Emptying the glass, he banged it back down on the bar-top and faced his nemesis.
‘Would you go and lock the door, Rachel?’ he asked in a gravelly voice. ‘Not the one that separates this room from my office. Or the one separating my office
