She heard the voices as she neared the top. Stopped on the thresh old of her office door. The girl was very pretty. Already seated in Sophy’s chair. Kat, the receptionist, was showing her the damn computer system already.
‘Hello.’ Sophy smiled, ultra bright and polite. She was not going to get evil over this.
‘Hi, Sophy.’ Kat looked up and beamed. ‘This is Jemma, who’s here to help you out.’
Oh, right. Help her out. Like she needed helping out? Like she needed a pretty, petite thing to do the work for her? Oh, please. After she’d just spent the last week giving the place a complete overhaul? She didn’t need help now. No, it was more like now the hard stuff was done she wasn’t needed any more.
Now he’d slept with her he didn’t want her around at all.
It wouldn’t be awkward at all then, would it?
The jealousy kicked in, the resentment swirling around, the energy building in her until she had enough fuel inside to launch a rocket to the moon.
‘Are you okay showing her some stuff for a while longer, Kat?’ she barely managed to ask nicely.
Kat nodded.
‘Great.’ Yes, she wasn’t needed at all. She gripped her bag all the more tightly. ‘I’ve just got to see Lorenzo.’
Kat nodded. ‘He’s about. I saw him earlier.’
Oh, good. Sophy briskly walked the few metres along the corridor to his office—it was empty. She checked the other office—the other staff were back now, having done their bit for Vance. But Lorenzo wasn’t in with them either. She walked faster—she refused to let him avoid this one.
She went down stairs but he wasn’t out in the yard. She went into one of the darkened rooms where they stored the cases of wine—all on pallets ready to be shipped. He was bending down by one, checking the dispatch label by the looks of things. He straightened when he saw her. Watched as she walked towards him, the heels of her shoes rapidly clicking on the concrete floor.
‘You’ve got a temp in,’ she said briskly.
‘Yeah.’
Even though she knew already, she had to take a second to absorb the hit from the casual dismissal in his tone.
‘I thought you were all about keeping Cara happy and not getting some clueless temp in?’ Sophy cringed even as she bitched at him; she was quite sure Jemma wasn’t clueless, but it had been his point originally. ‘Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked here? I’ve fixed the whole mess.’
‘I know you have. A five-year-old could work the filing system you’ve put in place. It’s perfect for a temp now.’
She reeled. Was that supposed to be a compliment? To make her feel okay about it? ‘You mean it’s the perfect time to get rid of me.’
He walked towards her. ‘What are you so mad about? I thought there were other things you wanted to be doing anyway?’
That wasn’t the point. The point was his shabby treatment of her. ‘You just don’t want me to be here any more? You’re embarrassed. You’re the one who’s feeling awkward.’
‘That’s not why I got a temp in.’
‘Yeah, right. Can’t handle it, can you? Anything remotely personal going on in your precious little domain.’
‘What happened with us is not why she’s here.’
‘That’s rubbish, Lorenzo. At least be honest and admit it. You want me gone.’
He swore right back at her—only worse. ‘Quite the opposite. Come with me.’
Given he now had hold of her wrist in a clench that threatened to break the smallest bones in there, she didn’t have much choice.
‘Lorenzo!’
He didn’t listen. Didn’t stop. Stormed out of the store room and up the stairs, past the offices until he got to the empty room at the back.
He let her go and she was still moving so fast from being dragged along with him she half ran into the middle of the room. He strode back to the door and slammed it shut, whirled to face her, his arms flung out. ‘This is why.’
She stared around the big empty room. There was a large table in the middle, a few chairs around it. ‘I don’t follow.’
Clearly fuming, he enlightened her. ‘You can set up in here. Work the rest of the day, half the night if you need to. To get your jewellery done for the show. This can be your workroom.’
She stared at him. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘No.’ He walked further into the room, turned his back to her so she couldn’t read his expression. ‘I’m vaguely useful. If you need to use power tools or something, I can help.’
‘You mean you can plug them in?’
He grunted then—almost a laugh. ‘Yeah.’ He faced her, his hands on his hips, still looking like a warrior about to launch an offensive any minute. ‘I just thought you could work here in the afternoons. You’d be around if the temp needed help but you’d have the time to work on your own stuff. You can stay later. You don’t have to pack it up at the end of the day, just spread out and get it done.’
Calm descended over her, her earlier anger soothed by a new suspicion. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
He looked even grumpier. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise.’
She blinked. Well, it had been a surprise. But he’d meant it as a nice surprise. ‘Why did you want to surprise me?’
He looked away. ‘I don’t know.’
Yes, he did. She waited.
‘You’ve done a lot for the fund,’ he muttered. ‘I thought it was a way of saying thanks.’
And that was all it was? She didn’t think so. She walked right into his personal space, her heart hurtling inside but trying to keep her efficient cool look on the outside.
He stiffened but didn’t move away.
‘Did you want to do something nice for me, Lorenzo?’
He looked to the side but still didn’t step back.
She smiled and took another pace closer. And closer still.
His hands were suddenly on her arms. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I thought I’d say thank you,’ she breathed oh-so-innocently.
His gaze dropped to her lips. His fingers tightened that extra notch but the rest of him stayed rigid.
Bingo.
The guy still wanted.
Well, the guy would get.
But not yet.
She reached up on tiptoe, brushed her lips ever so gently against his jaw—that inch too close to his lips to be purely platonic as he had once done to her. She stayed there a second longer, whispered in a way she’d only ever fantasised about, ‘Thank you, Lorenzo.’
She tried to move back but his hands were keeping her there now. ‘Sophy.’
Part warning, part what? Sophy couldn’t decide. But the whisper seemed to have gone down quite well.
He sighed—part groan—and his fingers softened, smoothing over her skin. ‘You smell good.’
‘Do I?’
He nodded. ‘I smell you every where.’
‘Cheap shampoo. Everyone uses it.’
‘No,’ he half laughed. ‘It’s you. Only you. And you don’t use cheap shampoo.’
Oh, that was nice. She let her weight rest against him a little more.
‘If we do this again, and I mean if, then no one knows,’ he said firmly.
‘What, it’s our “little secret”?’ She pulled back to look at him. She wouldn’t have thought he’d be one to care.
‘I’m not having gossip on site. No one is to know.’