self-assured men, his elbow propped on one arm of the sofa while he strokes his chin as his eyes rake over me, slowly and with thorough sensuality, a move that lends him a roguish air completely at home on his angular face. ‘If we’re going to be working together, Blair...’
The way he says my name in a low, husky tone I’ve heard a thousand times in my late-night fantasies makes me wonder how he’d sound first thing the morning after—sleepy and sexy, his vibrating voice dragging my every nerve to delicious awareness... I flush warm all over, cursing my hormones.
‘...we should get to know each other a little better.’ He stretches out one arm along the back of the sofa, a move that tugs his shirt open a fraction at the neck where he’s loosened his tie, affording me a glimpse of dark chest hair. ‘Why are you no longer engaged?’
The roar of blood in my face scalds. ‘That’s a personal question.’
‘Yes, it is.’
I consider ignoring it, reluctant to confirm how my relationship ended. I know Josh’s change of heart, his confusion over his sexuality, is no reflection on me personally, but trusting him with our business even after I discovered him cheating, allowing him to steal most of our major clients—for that I’ve no one to blame but myself.
I hide my shudder behind a massive swallow of iced water while I consider that Reid already knows my sorry tale and has brought it up to throw me off my game, distract me from my contract and expose my naive lapse in business judgement, one I’m sure he’d never have made with all his years of experience at the helm of the Faulkner Group.
‘Why are you no longer married?’ I counter. Two can play at his game.
He laughs, tilting his head with a nod of respect, but stays resolutely silent—that subject is clearly out of bounds. Like mine, his one foray into matrimony seems to have cured his hunt for hearth and family.
I sigh, keen to draw a line under the personal veer of the conversation. ‘It didn’t work out—personally or professionally. Hence dropping the “L” from C&L.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Amusement leaches from his eyes, which now carry genuine dismay, telling me I might have judged him a little harshly. ‘His loss.’
I accept his compliment with a tilt of my head. ‘Yes, well, I dare say we’re both better off.’ I lean forward and deposit my glass on the sleek coffee table between us, new determination taking hold. I lift my chin, feigning confidence in my solo skills, and remind Reid of my credentials. ‘And, luckily for the Faulkner Group, you get my undivided, award-winning attention. The reason, I think, why Graham selected Cameron Interiors.’ I need to remind us both why I’m here. As far as I’m concerned, Graham’s unfortunate illness, while upsetting, shouldn’t affect the renovations. ‘Why don’t I show you some concepts I discussed with Graham—I’d love to hear your thoughts?’
With the personal stuff successfully navigated, he waves his hand for me to continue.
I stand and walk round the coffee table, settling beside him on the sofa and swiping at the screen of the iPad to bring up the images I want. Sharing the device necessitates closeness. That’s what I tell myself as I’m buffeted by more Reid Faulkner than I can handle, at least half of my energy absorbed with maintaining a slow, even breathing rate this close to him, when all I want to do is lean in for an indulgent sniff.
‘So this is a concept for the hotel entrance and foyer.’ I hold the device in his direction, fighting the urge to scuttle away from or move closer to his body heat and tantalising masculine scent as he leans in to look, the slight rise of his eyebrows the only indication he’s in any way interested or impressed. Now I’m free for a few seconds of eye-roaming, taking in the dark stubble on his chin, the harsh line of his jaw and the strong tendons in his tanned neck.
I collect myself, remembering I’m a grown woman with a business to run, and swipe to the second image. ‘This is a selection of modern light fittings to replace the chandelier in the foyer—Graham was adamant he wanted a fresh, contemporary look throughout.’
When I look up he’s staring at me, not the iPad. I smile, shift a little, my pulse pounding in my head at the way his eyes dip to my mouth every few seconds. For several beats he gives no indication what he thinks of the concepts I’ve painstakingly worked on for the last month. Then he blinks and the shutters fall, breaking the sexual tension, which had lifted every hair on my arm closest to him.
I cling to my control of the situation. ‘If there are any changes you’d like to make—’
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You of all people know peak season isn’t the best time for major works.’
I stare, fighting the urge to allow my jaw to hang open with shock. He can’t rescind my contract. ‘Well, yes, but Graham was adamant.’
Reid continues as if he’s deaf to my every argument. ‘Of course, loss of business for us is good for competing hotels.’ He swivels to face me, leaning into the small space that separates us, a space now tense with professional mistrust and the fizzled-out sparks of that physical connection I’m now wondering if I imagined, leaving me hot and cold in the space of the same heartbeat.
‘What are you suggesting?’ How could I get carried away with my reawakened attraction to him, when all along he planned to veto the project? Assuming we were both on the right track for the renovations while indulging in our frisson of chemistry? Well, if he could ignore it to play dirty, I could ignore it to win.
Reid’s eyes narrow a fraction. ‘It’s a double win for you—Cameron Interiors and your family’s hotel benefit while the Faulkner is out of action. And, despite what Graham might have agreed to, now really isn’t a good time.’
I force myself to remain calm. ‘I only care about Cameron Interiors, and Graham didn’t agree, he insisted—not that either is relevant in light of my contract.’
The tightening of his mouth should appease me—he’s over a barrel, although icy trickles of doubt snake down my spine. If he chooses to contest, I can’t afford much in the way of legal representation to fight him, just as I couldn’t afford to hound Josh for the stolen business, neither financially nor in the humiliation stakes.
Reid’s eyes have gone from blue to silvery grey. Hard. Unyielding. ‘You can’t deny there’s considerable gain here for Cameron Interiors.’ He has the decency to look away, but only temporarily.
‘As there is for the Faulkner. I don’t see why our mutual benefit is of any consequence. There’s a transactional element to any contract, otherwise why else would we bother?’
‘Perhaps Graham jumped the gun.’ His mouth twists, as if he’s tasted something unpleasant, and I wonder what’s really going on here. Why is he so keen to dispense with the renovations and me? ‘I’d be happy to offer compensation for the inconvenience and for your time.’
Part of me is tempted by his buy-off. What better way to put a lid on this whole sorry episode and move on to fresh, more welcoming clients and to get away from his...addictive potency? Away from the lure of living out my teenage crush and embracing the inconvenient sexual attraction to Reid Faulkner?
But then I’d be no better than Josh. Deceitful. Taking something I hadn’t wholly earned. No. I can handle this man, our chemistry irrelevant. I drag in a shuddering breath, bolstering my resolve, which had clearly been knocked off balance by the rage of my hormones. Whatever his motives, I’m here to stay.
