cold at once. That’s right, Claire. You’re doing a great job of staying calm and unruffled.
‘I hope you enjoyed smooth sailing?’ Although Nicholas had addressed his comment to the other couple, and seemed absorbed in them, Claire sensed his continued awareness of her.
‘A pleasant enough trip.’ Jack Forrester had shrewd blue eyes set in a sun-weathered face, and looked to be somewhere in his early fifties. He winked at Claire in a jovial manner, but she sensed the sharpness of a keen mind behind the cheery façade. ‘We like to take the opportunity to sail whenever we can.’
Claire wouldn’t get out on the open sea for anything. She even avoided the harbour ferry whenever possible, sometimes at great inconvenience to herself. But she smiled dutifully back, determined not to do anything that might put this man off now that she had managed to stir an ember or two of work-related zeal back to life in herself.
The meal passed well enough, but Claire never lost her awareness of Nicholas, or of the numerous touches he managed to bestow on her.
Seriously. What if he wanted to make love on the office floor next? What would she do then?
Fall apart in his arms, most likely.
Maybe an affair wouldn’t be so bad.
And maybe that’s the stupidest thought you’ve ever had. You’re holding out for love, remember? An emotion Nicholas doesn’t even pretend to want to embrace.
Try telling her hormones that right at this moment. Try telling her heart. She groaned.
‘Claire?’
At Nicholas’s prompt, she turned. She hoped he hadn’t read her lascivious thoughts. ‘I’m sorry. What did you say?’
‘Dessert has arrived.’ He gestured towards the cart. ‘Can I tempt you into something?’
Like bed, with a serving of loving kindness on the side?
Drat it, Claire. You have to stop thinking that way. Either way!
She ground her teeth. The other couple had already made their selections. A baked soufflé topped with a berry sauce for the husband, and a bowl of fruit salad for the wife. So innocuous. Why, then, did Claire find herself picturing Nicholas naked, nibbling soufflé and fruit salad from her navel?
I’ll never see those foods in the same way again.
‘The mixed sorbet,’ she declared, and sucked in a shuddering breath.
Nicholas chose a platter of cheese and crackers, and to her great relief they settled to further discussion. She even managed to feel half in control of herself—until they reached the convivial stage and Nicholas draped his arm across her shoulders in casual possession.
Casual? Ha. One look at his face told her his thoughts exactly. She could no longer pretend any doubt in the matter. This was nothing casual, but all possession. His of her!
He ought to be careful. Next thing he knew, it would be her tossing him down on the office carpet so she could have her way with him.
There was something vividly erotic about a man playing games with the ends of one’s hair, she found. And who was to say that a man couldn’t be in lust first and then fall in love later?
‘Would you pass me the water?’ The request emerged as a strangled croak.
‘Certainly.’ He released her to reach for the carafe.
Great. She could breathe again. But then he leaned so close to her while he refilled her glass that she could smell the scent of his skin, could count the individual lashes that graced those enigmatic hazel eyes. Could feel the sensual tension emanating from him.
‘Thank you,’ she ground out.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re welcome.’
She turned hastily away from him. ‘Mr Forrester—Jack. How did you and Naomi build up your amazing empire? You’ve achieved incredible things with your properties and investments.’
Jack flirted a little with her as he answered, a born charmer, but Claire didn’t think there was anything in it really. She smiled in a general sort of way, and encouraged him to elaborate about his various business ventures.
‘Hard work, my dear.’ Jack winked again, and leaned forward across the table as though to dispense a particularly juicy secret. ‘If a man sets his mind to it, he can get pretty much whatever it is he wants in this life.’
‘Not everything.’ Nicholas’s hand closed over Claire’s shoulder in an almost painful grip. ‘Some things are off limits.’
For the tiniest moment Forrester’s gaze rested with shrewd, assessing sharpness on Nicholas. Then he laughed and toasted him with his coffee.
Naomi Forrester looked on in some bemusement. As well she might. Nicholas was acting like a possessive—well, boss-cum-fiancé. And Claire, although she definitely shouldn’t have, liked it. She stifled a second groan.
The conversation wound up quickly after that, and they left the restaurant soon after.
Once clear of the building, Claire turned to Nicholas. ‘Did we impress him? I couldn’t tell.’
‘We’ve made one more step with Forrester. For today, that’s enough.’ Nicholas settled Claire into the car and began the trip that would take them through the harbour tunnel and into the market suburb where he lived.
He could feel the tension pulling at his shoulders, and was disgusted with himself for it. All Forrester had done was flirt a bit with Claire, and Nicholas had wanted to separate the man’s limbs piece by piece with his bare hands. Caveman.
He had to get control of this tendency to overreact about Claire. It was totally in contrast to the way he wanted to move their relationship forward. Calm, cool and unemotional. That was the plan.
‘Forrester is the kind of man who enjoys watching his business associates go through hoops in an effort to snare him. He won’t be easy to win.’
‘I don’t like that he’s playing with you.’ Claire seemed indignant, and Nicholas smiled. For all her intelligence and enthusiasm for her work, she was unaware of just how cutthroat the business world could be.
‘I’m playing with him, too.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s the way of it.’ He tucked thoughts of the business lunch aside for examination later, and turned the subject to a matter that meant more to him at the moment. ‘Before we go back to the office, I want to collect something from my house.’
‘Oh, okay.’
Claire didn’t have a lot else to say, but he didn’t mind the quiet. It allowed him to reflect on the success of his plans so far. Four months from now—four months and two days, to be exact—they would be married. Despite that incident with the jealousy, which had been a simple glitch, he liked the idea of marrying Claire more and more.
When they arrived at the house, Claire gazed about with apparent interest. ‘How long have you had a home here? I’d have pictured you in an apartment, to tell the truth.’
‘I
