the sudden shortness of her breath, he’d bet her mind was full of the same x-rated images as were currently filling his own. He felt a self-satisfied smile tug at his lips. ‘Maybe I’ll just carry you down there anyway. Kidnap you and keep you naked to use as my sex slave.’
That earned him a flash from her eyes. ‘That wouldn’t end well for you.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t doubt it. But it’s a risk I’d willingly take. Besides, I could make use of those tights to tie you up.’
‘I’d scream. People would hear.’
‘Not if I gagged you,’ he threatened. ‘Oh, yes, I’m liking this idea more and more. Gagged. Bound. Naked …’ His words fell away in the face of the image they conjured in his mind. He wondered how long he’d be able to make himself last, taking her to the brink of pleasure again and again, until she was delirious with it. Begging him with those green eyes. Good God. Focusing his gaze on hers, he lost himself in the depths. ‘You’d have me totally at your mercy,’ he murmured.
She blinked at him. ‘I think you mean that the other way round.’
He shook his head slowly. She hadn’t the first inkling of the power she’d wield through such an act of submission. No idea of how completely she could bring him to his knees. Own him. ‘No. I meant exactly what I said.’
A clatter and a shout as something was dropped in the nearby kitchen broke the spell. Shaking off the sensual haze, Annabel slipped sideways from his hold and cleared her throat.
‘What did you want to see me about?’
He watched her hasty retreat to the other side of the desk. ‘Chicken,’ he ribbed with amusement, not the least deterred from his intention to have all that strong-willed woman freely submit to him one day. He pulled his phone from his hip pocket. ‘Can we take a look at the upcoming shift roster? I want to make a note of what days you have free.’
‘Why?’ she questioned, voice laced with enough suspicion to suggest he’d asked her to divulge state secrets.
‘So I can plan how best to split my time between here and Carriglea.’ He rounded the desk himself as she lowered herself into her chair. If the Tulaí project seemed full-on now in the early planning stages, he could only imagine how much more demanding things would become once construction started. ‘I’m going to be a busy boy. I need a schedule to work to.’
Annabel obviously approved of his sense of organisation, because without further ado she logged into the computer and called up the staff roster. Looking over her shoulder, he began plugging the relevant information into the diary app on his phone.
‘Also, can you block yourself out for the second weekend in June? We’ve an invite to Monaco for Damien Harcourt’s thirtieth birthday.’ One of the lasting legacies from Aidan’s time in the City was his friendship with the enigmatic entrepreneur. Once one of his major clients, Damien had turned out to share Aidan’s passion for gambling and equalled his skill at the poker table. With a family fortune worth billions, he also inhabited a very different world from most mere mortals – a rarefied world of glamour and fame which Annabel had had a small taste of when they’d been his guests at a spectacular, star-studded New Year’s Day ball in Vienna.
She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. ‘We?’
‘Yes, we. As a couple.’
He watched her turn away and return her attention to the computer screen, leaving him to wonder what she thought about others rating them officially as a pair. ‘And before you look for excuses to say you can’t go – that’s plenty of notice to work out cover here, and it’s all expenses paid by Damien. He sends his regards, by the way.’
‘But,’ she said, sounding cornered, ‘I don’t really know him.’
He couldn’t help liking it when ballsy Ms Frost showed her nerves. ‘All the more reason to come along. Because that’s generally how you do get to know people, Annabel, by spending time with them.’ Something she was obviously out of practice with. ‘Note it in the diary for now and think about it later.’
Once he had all her days off for the next couple of months logged onto his calendar, Aidan put the phone back in his pocket. ‘Done.’
Annabel turned to look him in the eye again. ‘You didn’t have to come in to do this, you know. You could have asked me about it any time. Or phoned.’
He grinned and nodded, delighted that she’d caught him out, seen the ruse for what it was. ‘I could have easily done that, yes.’
The frank confession made her smile, too. A rare, spontaneous smile that lit up her face and left him feeling ridiculously proud to know his actions had pleased her.
‘So.’ All too quickly, Annabel slid her mask of cool control back on. She logged out of the computer and rose to her feet. ‘Have you got everything you wanted?’
‘Not quite.’ He scooped her against him and kissed her. A long, slow melding of mouths. A kiss to carry him through until his return to London the following week.
They were both a little breathy, a little dazed, by the time he pulled back.
Looking into her eyes as he stroked a thumb over her cheek, he asked, ‘Would you do me one favour while I’m gone, a mhuirnín?’
‘Maybe,’ she said, guarded even though her gaze was still a soft-focus green.
‘Think about getting some help for the nightmares. A counsellor, or Victim Support or even your GP. Anything you choose.’
She instantly stiffened under his touch. A single blink and her gaze was once again clear and sharp. But instead of biting his head off she simply muttered, ‘OK, I’ll think about it,’ without any fight at all.
As if he’d been born yesterday and couldn’t recognise a bluff when he saw one. She’d literally keep to her word and ‘think’ about it, but nothing more. If she thought he’d let her get away with that, she had another thing coming.
‘You do that.’ He grasped her lightly by the chin to ensure he had her attention. ‘And just so you know, as well as working on the touching in public thing when I get back, we’re going to be getting you a whole lot better acquainted with the use of the word “yes”.’ He shifted his fingers to cover her lips as they parted. ‘Because I have to admit, all this denial and prevarication is becoming a bit predictable.’
Replacing his fingers with his lips, he pressed one last swift, hard kiss to her gaping mouth.
‘Have a good week. See you next Monday,’ he said, and strode out of her office before she had time to stick him with a pencil.
The following Sunday night, Annabel trudged up the stairs to her flat. Although a quiet dinner service at Cluny’s meant it was only 10.30, she felt beyond shattered. With her mother now home from the hospital, she’d been relegated to sleeping on the sofa and, as she’d predicted, her already disturbed nights had got worse. Much worse. Her entire body ached to the point that she’d started to wonder whether it would be more comfortable
