really want to know?’
‘Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.’
He dragged in a breath, another, staring at the iconic city landmarks so many floors down. Flinders Street Station, Federation Square, St Patrick’s Cathedral—buildings he’d explored as a kid on school excursions, usually with this woman by his side.
What the hell was he doing, contemplating telling her the truth? It wouldn’t end well.
But he knew one thing for sure. He couldn’t go on like this.
It had been two measly days since he’d marched back into her life, and this relentless, driving urge to have her wasn’t going away any time soon. In fact it would probably intensify the more time they spent together working.
Probably best to get it out of his system? Then focus one hundred percent on blowing the competitors away?
But how did he tell her without sounding like an ass?
Hey, Saph, the reason I keep kissing you—can’t keep my hands off you. Want into your pants. Now.
Yeah, that would go down a treat.
‘Not like you to be at a loss for words.’ She removed her hand and he instantly wished he’d grabbed it and held on. ‘Maybe working with you is going to be tolerable after all?’
A reluctant chuckle spilled from his lips and he turned to face her.
And that was when he knew he couldn’t tell her about his driving need to ravish every inch of her body.
Staring into her guileless eyes, seeing concern clouding their perfect blue, he couldn’t do it.
Ten years had passed, but how well did he really know her? If she’d freaked out back then, what was to say she wouldn’t do it now and jeopardise the entire showing?
He needed this Hollywood glamour idea to fly. He needed to wow audiences and critics and guarantee that orders flooded in. He needed to show everyone he wasn’t the wealthy flake they wrongly assumed.
And that meant focussing on the goal and not on his rampant libido.
‘We have to make this work. It’s important to me.’
Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she’d doubted his sincerity before but didn’t now.
‘Me too,’ she said, her nod brisk and businesslike. ‘You meet with your designers, I’ll put the PR machine in motion, and we’ll reconvene later today.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
He liked plans. Plans were orderly and well thought out and logical. The opposite of the uncertainty rioting through him.
‘We should do dinner.’
It was a vast improvement on what he really wanted to say: We should do each other.
A tiny crease reappeared between her brows. ‘A working dinner, you mean?’
He’d prefer something along the lines of cosy and candlelit, with the two of them naked, but he’d settle for working. It was the one thing to keep him focussed away from wanting her, right?
‘We’ll be working long into the evening—stands to reason we need to eat.’
‘Okay, then.’
She’d reverted to brusque and he mentally kicked himself for wanting what he couldn’t have.
‘Meet back here at five?’
He glanced around the room, at the contemporary sterility, and made a rash decision he’d probably live to regret.
‘How about we meet at Seaborns? That way you can show me what Ruby has in mind for some of the major pieces?’
‘Sure, that’s doable.’
There he went again. One word—doable—and he could see the two of them doing each other.
‘Better get cracking.’
He mentally cringed at how abrupt he sounded, not surprised when she shot him a sideways glance.
But in true Sapphire form she didn’t push the issue or demand answers. She picked up her portfolio, hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder, and headed towards the door.
With her hand on the doorknob, she paused. ‘Want to hear something crazy?’
Crazier than how badly he wanted her?
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m actually looking forward to this.’
Her impish grin as she eased through the door made him want to stride across the office and haul her back in.
She wasn’t the only one looking forward to the month ahead.
Who said he couldn’t mix a little pleasure with business?
RUBY AND OPAL had a plate of double-coated Tim Tams waiting for Sapphie when she got back.
They’d closed the showroom and were lounging around the makeshift living room near Ruby’s studio. It was a new addition in her absence and, while she liked Ruby having a place to chill between inspiration hits, it reminded her of her failure.
She should have been here.
Instead she’d been recuperating after being an ass, not trusting Ruby enough to share the responsibilities of running Seaborns, and driving herself into the ground because of it.
If she hadn’t wound up chronically tired, her body aching all over, barely able to lift her head off the pillow because of the headaches…No, she wouldn’t think about the possible consequences of her controlling behaviour. Not today, when hopefully she’d ensured that Seaborns would never face the threat of closure ever again.
She’d been so stupid, thinking she could control everything. Lucky for her, her body had sent out some pretty powerful warning signals, and she’d listened before the chronic fatigue syndrome had really taken hold.
For weeks before she’d finally admitted defeat she’d existed on caffeine energy drinks and liquid vitamins, trying to push through the tiredness, taking on a bigger workload.
It wasn’t as if she’d never been tired before. Running a business took its toll, and she’d been used to functioning on minimal sleep and snatched meals.
Until her body had other ideas.
She’d pulled yet another all-nighter after a long week of meetings with accountants and suppliers, had been in the process of downing her second energy drink for the morning, when she’d fainted, clipping her head on the corner of her desk on the way down.
Ruby
