goddess for a weekend with Patrick?
As she settled in front of her PC and waited for Patrick’s Skype call one thought reverberated through her head: first time for everything.
Patrick had worked his ass off the last three days. Pulled an all-nighter. Done the work of ten men. Supervised and brainstormed and delegated.
Usually this manic pace gave him a buzz. In the past it had come from partying; these days it was from ensuring Fourde Fashion stayed ahead of competing European designers.
This time working like a maniac hadn’t taken the edge off. Only one woman could do that and he couldn’t wait to see her—even if it was only via a screen.
He didn’t like how she’d got under his skin. Didn’t like the anticipation making his palms clammy. She was a distraction he could ill afford but somehow, despite working his butt off, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
At least Skype was safe. A visual without the temptation of touching. And he’d been doing a lot of that, fantasising about touching her…
He’d half expected Sapphire not to respond to his call, but in a few seconds she appeared, her eyes wide and luminous, her cheeks pink, her lips glossed, and his gut tightened.
‘Hey, gorgeous.’
‘Hey.’ A smile played around her lips but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘What did you want to discuss tonight?’
‘Business, of course.’
He had to stay focussed on business before he ignored his vow to stay away from her and drove like a maniac to her apartment.
Seeing her, even through a screen, wasn’t such a smart idea after all. He should have stuck to e-mails.
‘Good.’ She nodded, as if his answer had allayed her fears of getting too personal. ‘What did you think of those shots I e-mailed this morning?’
‘Ruby’s incredibly talented.’ He held up a sketch. ‘The embedded sapphire choker will look amazing with this evening gown. And the emerald dog collar will accentuate the showstopper perfectly.’
‘Great.’ Her shoulders relaxed a little but her studiously polite smile didn’t slip. ‘What about the yellow diamond set? Could it be used with the saffron sheath or the alabaster A-line?’
‘Think we’ll make that decision when the models wear the final pieces.’
‘Timelines still on track?’
He nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Good, because we’ve been working like maniacs over here.’
‘Same here.’ He slipped a finger between his tie and collar. ‘I’m in danger of becoming a very dull boy.’
Her lips quirked into a coy smile. ‘I doubt that.’
‘I miss playing,’ he said, knowing he shouldn’t flirt but unable to stop.
‘I never have time to.’
He heard the wistful undertone, well aware that if she were anything like she’d been in high school Sapphire would never take time out to play.
‘Everyone should make time to play. It’s healthy.’
‘So I’ve been told,’ she said, glancing away from the screen, fiddling with the neckline of her dress.
In that moment he knew exactly how to make her come out to play.
He locked fingers, stretched and settled them behind his head. ‘Tell me what you’re wearing.’
A cute little crease appeared between her brows. ‘Pretty obvious, I would’ve thought. Ochre shift dress.’
‘I meant what you’re wearing beneath it.’
Her lips parted in a delightful O of surprise before she clamped them shut. ‘We are so not having Skype sex.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because.’ She darted a glance away from the screen. Prob-ably trying to find something to cover the inbuilt camera. ‘I don’t see the point.’
‘The point being it’s fun to play. And if you’re half as horny as me it might take the edge off.’ He unlocked his hands and leaned towards the camera. ‘Plus I love seeing you get off.’
A deep crimson flushed her cheeks.
‘Come on, give a guy a little something to tide him over while he’s working all-nighters.’
The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip before she said, ‘I—I—haven’t done this before. I’m not sure—’
‘It’s all about the fantasy, sweetheart.’ He lowered his voice, knowing he needed to say the right thing or he’d lose her. ‘There’s no right or wrong way. Just do what feels good.’
She paused, worrying her bottom lip for a few indecisive seconds, before her chin tilted and he knew he had her.
‘You tell anyone about this and you’re a dead man.’
Victorious, he leaned back in his chair. ‘Consider this a prelude to the real thing.’
She nodded, and a sweep of hair the colour of gold silk swished across one eye before she pushed it back impatiently.
‘Let’s try this again. Tell me what you’re wearing.’
She inhaled and blew out a breath. ‘Pale pink lace.’
‘Bra and panties?’
‘Thong,’ she corrected, and his hard-on twitched.
‘Sheer?’
‘Yep.’
He cursed.
‘Take off your thong.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Patrick—’
‘Do it,’ he said, his voice thick with lust. ‘And I want to see proof.’
‘I’m not doing that—’
‘Relax, just seeing the thong will do.’ He grinned. ‘For now.’
She huffed out a breath but he saw her wiggling, and in a few moments she waved the flimsiest excuse for underwear he’d ever seen in front of the camera.
‘Satisfied?’
‘Not by a long shot, babe, but we’re getting there.’
He wondered how far he could push her and decided to go all the way.
‘Now touch yourself.’ He throbbed, and shifted in his chair. ‘You’re turned on, wet, and as you touch
