Hot Boss, Wicked Nights

She kept her gaze pinned on the Qantas jumbo taxiing the other way, rather than look at him. But she knew what she’d see—that sexy stubble she’d taken to enjoying against her skin every morning when he’d knocked on her door promptly at seven, anticipation in his eyes. ‘I couldn’t eat a thing.’ It’d only remind me of our shared breakfasts in bed. ‘I need to unpack and do some laundry.’

‘And catch up with your family at some stage, I guess?’

‘Actually I’m…flying up to Coffs Harbour tomorrow morning.’ She heard the crisp coolness in her voice. ‘My parents and Rosa have gone to celebrate my great aunt and uncle’s golden wedding anniversary. I’m expected to put in an appearance over the weekend.’

The expectation on her parents’ part—for this function at least, since they thought she was still out of the country—was an out and out lie, but it would give her time to think. Alone. The timing couldn’t have been better if she really wanted space from Damon.

‘You play the role of dutiful child to the hilt, don’t you?’ His comment held definite undertones.

‘Are you criticising me because you’re not guilty of the same?’ She regretted the barb as soon as the words left her mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’ She turned to look at him, filled with remorse. How could she, when his own parents didn’t acknowledge him? When his family life was non-existent? ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

But the stinging words had hit their target. His mouth firmed and the furrow between his brows deepened and his eyes…she didn’t want to look at his eyes…

‘Why not?’ he said, his voice oddly devoid of emotion. ‘It’s no more than the truth.’

The aircraft came to a stop and a flurry of activity ensued as passengers gathered belongings, bodies pressed together in their haste to disembark.

Damon exited first, and she followed him off the aircraft and into the arrivals lounge cursing herself all the way. Since they’d travelled business class their luggage was already on the carousel when they arrived. They collected their gear and then headed for the escalator.

As she stepped on behind him Damon turned to her. Two steps behind, as the escalator descended, she was the same height as him. Even though it was a two-person step, she chose to remain where she was. He leaned closer; his eyes bored into hers. ‘You obviously want to be on your own. Perhaps it’s better if we take separate cabs.’

This was it, then. The end of their holiday ruined by her cutting remark. Suddenly the bump and grind of surrounding passengers, the smell of people cooped up all night in an aircraft made it hard to breathe. ‘My apartment’s on the way to Bryce’s. It makes sense to travel together.’

‘I’m not going back to Bryce’s apartment.’ His chin lifted fractionally. ‘There’s someplace else I need to be.’ She saw something she’d never seen in his gaze before as he turned away from her.

Someone else, she amended silently, her hand tightening around the handle of her suitcase. She shuffled her feet impatiently. Could this damn escalator go any slower?

Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She felt the heel of her shoe catch in the grooves, a sharp wrench of pain in her foot…and then she was cartwheeling past Damon and unforgiving steel was rising up to meet her.

Damon rubbed a hand over his bristled jaw as he kept watch over Kate. The ambulance had brought her to the hospital and she’d been admitted for observation. Staff had informed him she had a slight concussion and a sprained ankle, but otherwise she was fine.

Right now she was sleeping it off. He couldn’t see the bump on her head beneath all that hair but he was sure it was a beauty.

He was no stranger to fear, but when he’d seen Kate crumpled and unconscious at the foot of the escalator… Not again. Never again. He clamped his teeth together and refused to think about what might have been. She’s going to live, get over it and move on.

But for once his will power failed him. He’d known what it was to love someone before but it hadn’t been like this. Bonita hadn’t made his blood pound through his veins like a kettle-drum parade. He couldn’t remember whether the skin beneath Bonita’s breasts had tasted sweet or even if she’d made those little noises the way Kate did when she made love.

And he’d never wanted those things with Bonita the way he wanted them with Kate. Theirs had been a tender growing-up together, resulting in the inevitable. Yet he’d loved Bonita.

Was that what he felt for Kate? Love?

The thought rolled through him like a thunderstorm, all light and noise, and every hair on his body rose. He didn’t want it; he didn’t know what to do with it.