Hot Boss, Wicked Nights

‘Bryce wanted to make you a partner in the business five years ago and you turned him down.’ Her voice intruded on his thoughts.

‘He knew why.’ Five years ago he’d been one step ahead of his demons and up to his neck pulling a particularly challenging business he’d bought out of the red. He hadn’t been ready to come back to Australia.

He took a long slow gulp of wine. ‘I bet you’re responsible, Kate.’ He heard the almost mocking lilt in his own voice. ‘Doing what people expect from you. Toeing the line. No running off to chase your dreams.’

She set her glass down with a clunk and he knew he’d hit the mark. ‘Is that what you did?’ she said with asperity. ‘Chase your dreams no matter who you hurt or what the consequences?’

No, he’d been running away from his nightmares. ‘Something like that.’ Her wistful tone when she mentioned dreams had him leaning forward. ‘What do you want, Kate?’

‘To be the best in my chosen career.’

He shook his head. ‘Nope, sounds like something your father would say. What do you really want? Deep down where it’s just you.’

She was quiet for several seconds, her head resting on an upturned palm as she stared into space, her eyes mellowed with the wine she’d drunk. ‘Sometimes I just want to break out of my mould, you know? Go against expectations. Be someone else, even if it’s just for a little while.’

Yeah, he knew. ‘You could start like this…’ He reached behind her head, undid the clasp imprisoning her hair and let it flow down her back in a ripple of black satin. Watched her eyes widen, darken as he ran his fingers through its length. So soft, so silky.

‘I don’t wear my hair down at work. It’s…it’s not a professional image.’

He felt the subtle tremor run through her body at his touch. ‘You’re not at the office now.’

It was a simple matter to remove one gold loop earring, then the other. He massaged one lobe gently between thumb and forefinger.

His hand curved inward to curl around the back of her neck. Skin as soft and smooth as her hair. Vulnerable where her pulse fluttered wildly just above her collarbone.

His gaze dropped to her luscious coral lips. He couldn’t stop himself—he soothed a finger over the seam of her mouth, remembering how he’d done exactly that on the first night he’d seen her. He traced each lip—the shape, the texture.

Kate stared at him, unable to stop him. Not wanting to stop him. She’d never seen a man look at her the way Damon Gillespie looked at her. His actions were slow, unthreatening, almost hypnotic.

‘Don’t you like who you are, Kate?’

When you look at me like that I feel like the only woman in the world.

She was sure he’d make any woman the centre of his world while it lasted, make her feel the centre of his universe. He’d be focused, considerate, passionate. She already knew how he made love—with single-minded intensity.

‘Of course I do. But sometimes…’ She must be under some sort of hypnotic trance because she wanted that same single-minded intensity driving into her again. Now. Knowing who he was: Damon Gillespie, adventurer, risk-taker. Boss.

Knowing who she was. Kate Fielding, travel agent, who never put a foot wrong.

Very unwise, but she didn’t want to think about that now. For a fleeting moment she wanted to bathe in the warmth of his gaze.

‘Sometimes you like to be someone else,’ he said softly.

‘I…’ Her words trailed away as she watched him. The clarity and intensity of his gaze took away her ability to think rationally.

His finger left her lips to trace the curve of her jaw. ‘Is that when Shakira comes out to play?’

She blinked. Her breath caught, her mind whirled with the erotic images. The heat of humiliation stabbed through her, hot darts stinging her face. ‘No! Yes…’ The way he said it, as if Shakira were a regular occurrence—did he think she slept around? Given the swiftness of their coming together, she could understand it, but she’d never played that game before. She didn’t even know the rules. ‘No.’

Right now she wished she were safely tucked up in bed alone and not forced to look into those discerning eyes that saw straight through her. No, he didn’t think she was easy, she decided; he thought she was a novice out for a walk on that wild side she’d managed to steer clear of. Until Saturday night.

Right now she didn’t know which was worse. From somewhere deep down she felt the first prickles of resentment. He didn’t know her, he didn’t know how confined her life was, how restricted she felt even in her own apartment. She was still doing what her parents expected of her, for heaven’s sake.