at the moment, Karen,’ her boss said.
‘OK, I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Relax,’ she mouthed to a shell-shocked Jessie as she walked past her.
And then she was gone, shutting the door behind her.
Jessie just stood there in the middle of the large, plushly furnished office, her shock slowly draining away, anxiety rushing back. Anxiety and dismay.
Fate hadn’t been kind to her at all. It had dangled the most wonderful opportunity in front of her nose like a carrot, only to snatch it away at the last moment. Because this Mr Marshall—regardless of what his first name turned out to be—wasn’t about to hire her, no matter what she did, or said.
There was no way out.
If she told him the truth about why she’d been at that bar last Friday night, he would feel both humiliated and threatened. If she didn’t tell him the truth, then she had to fall back on that other even more sordid reality. That she’d fancied him like mad and been tempted by him, despite knowing he was married.
No, that wasn’t right, she suddenly realised. If she kept her decoy work a secret, then she would not have known he was married. He didn’t wear a wedding ring. She’d noticed that the other night.
In that case, how could she explain her sudden disappearing act?
Saying simply that she’d changed her mind seemed rather lame. She would come across as a tease. She supposed she could say someone in the ladies’ room had warned her he was a married man and that was why she’d done a flit.
That might salvage her pride and reputation, but it wouldn’t do much for his.
The main problem here was that he’d known he was a married man all along, and he’d still asked her to go to a hotel room with him.
Recalling that highly charged moment brought back to Jessie the feelings she had shared with him that night. The mutual attraction. The rush of desire. The heat.
She stared at him as a new wave of heat flowed through her body, flooding her from her toes right up into her face.
There was no way out of this, except out the door.
‘I guess I might as well leave right now,’ she choked out. ‘Just give me my portfolio back, please, and I’ll get going.’
KANE rarely felt panic, but he felt it now. She was running out on him. Again!
He couldn’t let that happen. Not now that he’d found her. The thought that he would never see her again had haunted him all weekend.
Of course, it would help to know why she’d run out on him in the first place. The only reason he could imagine was that he must have come on too hard and too fast for her.
Now he didn’t know what to think.
All he knew was that nothing had changed for him since Friday night. One look from those incredible eyes of hers and he’d been right back there on that dance floor, his body consumed by the need to sweep her off into bed.
Bed? He almost laughed at that notion. A bed would not do. This all-consuming passion he was suffering from demanded a much faster, harder surface to pin her to. A wall. A floor. This desk, even.
Kane swallowed. He was really losing it!
And he’d lose her again, if she knew what was going on his head.
‘Last Friday night has no relevance whatsoever to today,’ he said with astonishing composure. Lust was a very powerful motivation. ‘That was pleasure. This is business. But perhaps we should get the past out of the way first. Would you care to sit down and tell me why you left the way you did?’
She frowned, but stayed standing. He tried to stop his eyes from continually raking her from head to toe, but truly she was a magnificent-looking woman. And so sexy in those tight jeans, it was criminal.
‘What’s the point?’ she said sharply, brown eyes flashing. ‘I can’t work for you. You must know that.’
He didn’t, actually. Was she worried about sexual harassment in the workplace?
Perhaps she had just cause, given how much he craved her right now. But Kane could exercise control and patience when necessary. And when she wasn’t touching him. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her off. She was the first woman in a long time who had made him feel what he’d felt on Friday night. To be honest, he couldn’t recall ever feeling quite what he’d felt on that dance floor.
Usually, he could stay in control. Usually, his brain was always there in the background, analysing the situation, making judgement calls, warning him when the momentary object of his desire was another waste of his time.
But it hadn’t on that occasion.
Maybe that was why she’d obsessed about him all weekend. The way she’d made him forget everything but the moment. He hadn’t known anything at all about her, except that she went into sleazy bars alone, dressed to thrill. Not a great recommendation.
Yet he’d still wanted her like crazy.
He still did.
No way was he going to let her escape from him a second time. He wanted to experience the magic he’d felt in her arms once more. Too bad if it didn’t go anywhere. He was sick and tired of thinking about the future and working his life to a plan. He’d got into a rather boring rut over the years. He’d forgotten how to be impulsive.
He wanted this woman, and he was going to have her, whether she was good for him or not.
‘But you won’t really be working for me,’ he replied smoothly. ‘You’ll be working for Harry Wilde. I’m just the caretaker manager till Christmas, which is less than two weeks away now. After that, any boss-employee relationship between us is over.’
She still stared at him with wary eyes and he wondered why. Damn it all, she fancied him. He knew she did. She’d been with him all the way on Friday night, till she’d gone to the ladies’.
He’d been stunned when she hadn’t showed up again.
‘So what did happen on Friday night?’ he asked, his teeth clenched firmly in his jaw. ‘Did you just change your mind? Was that it?’
‘I…I…’
Her fluster was telling. And quite enchanting. Maybe she wasn’t the tease he’d been thinking she might be. Or a serial good-time girl, the kind who cruised bars at night looking for some cheap fun and excitement.
‘It’s not a crime to change your mind, Jessie,’ he said gently. Though it had felt like it at the time. He’d been furious.
‘I didn’t change my mind,’ she said, which totally confused him.
‘What, then?’
