The Right Mr. Wrong

There was a moment where she just stood before him—her gaze locked in his, her thoughts chaotic. Then, thankfully, he stepped back. She watched him walk away. Then she forced her eyelids to shut and she pivoted—like an owl, to stare in another direction. To her surprise Alannah was standing beside her.

‘What’d you do to get him to look at you like that?’ Alannah’s mouth was hanging open.

For a moment Vivi panicked that the diva model was going to have some kind of petulant fit. But then she realised Alannah was serious—as if genuinely amazed. Vivi grimaced. Was it so far-fetched that a guy might think she was attractive? Well, yeah, this would be the first time in history that a guy had looked at her when Alannah or any of the other models were anywhere in the vicinity.

‘I tied him up and whipped him,’ Vivi quipped, wishing—just for this second—that she really could.

‘He’s submissive?’ Alannah’s eyes went watermelon wide.

The idea of Liam being submissive to anyone was totally laughable.

‘Um...’ Vivi felt a shift in the atmosphere as Alannah gazed at her with a weird intensity.

‘Oh... My...’ A nodding Alannah looked her up and down and spoke in a theatrical whisper. ‘I can see it now. It makes total sense. You’re a domme.’ She paused and actually fanned her face with her fingers. ‘Wow. You know I can be submissive too. I love it when a lover makes me beg.’

‘Uhhh...’ Was Alannah for real?

Alannah giggled so hard she all but doubled over. ‘You should see the look on your face.’

Vivi groaned. ‘You’re a brat.’

‘But such a good one. Dontcha wanna whip me?’

‘Go away. I was kidding.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Alannah teased. ‘But honestly, Vivi, you should take the boots off and do whatever he tells you to. Let him take the reins—and the whip.’ She winked and sashayed away.

Uh huh. Tried that once already and look where that had got her. Pain so wasn’t her thing.

Back in her hotel room she sat at the desk programming appointments and updating Gia’s schedule. Except Liam’s image kept sliding into her mind.

Damn.

She’d not thought about him in years. She’d done a brilliantly good job of training her brain not to dwell on men at all. She knew what they were about. And a guy wasn’t part of her life at this point in time. She was all about work this week, this month...this whole year.

She didn’t need a lover and was decades off marriage and kids. Because she’d learned that what she wanted was never of importance in a relationship. She always came in second. Always had to be the one to sacrifice and put her wishes behind his. That had been how it was with Oliver. Liam was supposed to have been different, but he’d turned out to be the worst. The few guys she’d dated since had just added a few ditto marks to her scoresheet. So she wasn’t going there for ages yet—not when she had an amazing career to make the most of.

She’d do this meeting, set up this shoot, prove herself to be the professional she was. But as she slipped into bed and switched out the light she had to sternly remind herself. She would not remember. She would not.

THREE

His lips brushed hers. Gentle. The barest rub, back and forth. She tilted her chin and heard approval rumble deep in his throat. The kiss deepened immediately. She opened and he took what she offered—claiming her with his tongue, caressing the roof of her mouth. Startled, she shivered. So quickly seduced.

She’d already been seduced. She’d been his from the first moment she’d seen him in the guest bathroom when she’d been in nothing but a towel and he’d been all steam, strength, sex—and fun. Such fun. That kiss had started with a smile, an intimacy she’d been unable to resist.

With her lips parted, her mouth his to own, his hands roamed, moving in time with the tease of his tongue. He swept a broad palm down her spine, pulling her closer to him while at the same time pushing her against the cool, concrete wall behind her. His other hand teased, feathering strokes against her hip, up her side, feeling out the soft swell of her breast. His thumb scraped over her nipple. This time the moan of approval was hers. She arched into him, rising on tiptoe to get closer.

She wanted more. Needed so much more.

Vivi opened her eyes and stared at the dim ceiling. It was more than a dream. It was a memory.

That first kiss had been outside some motorway services restaurant. She’d been excited but slightly scared at the same time. She’d never kissed anyone but Oliver before. Liam was taller. Broader. Stronger. Liam was more everything.

He’d pressed her up against that wall of the building for what had to have been hours. Until some blushing security guard had interrupted and asked them to move along.

They’d moved to the nearest hotel.

Finally unleashed, the simmering passion between them had meant there was nothing else they could do. They didn’t leave that room for three days. Then it was further south only as far as they could be bothered before falling into bed in another hotel. A few more days. Another hotel. Slowly travelling, hungrily seeking that physical satisfaction.

Frustrated, Vivi threw back the sheet, got out of bed and got some chilled water from the minibar. Her memories were fantasy enhanced, right? Dreams highlighted, magnified...It hadn’t been all that fabulous. Five years was a long time. She was over it.

But now five years didn’t feel like long enough.

She got to sleep ten minutes before her alarm rang. Thank heavens Gia had taken the day off from her usual schedule. The last thing Vivi felt like was managing her as well as Liam.

She stood beneath a cool shower spray and gave herself the pep talk. She could handle him—she’d handled way worse with ease. She’d meet him, arrange things beautifully with an utterly businesslike manner. No more laughing and almost flirting. This had to be a quick, efficient strike. It’d all be over in half an hour or less. And she’d be sure to arrange things that meant she didn’t have to see him again. Ever. Piece of cake.

Liam’s hotel was only a short walk from hers but she took a taxi. She didn’t want to be in the least bit flushed when she met him again. Nothing like the blushing schoolgirl she’d been last night.

He was in the hotel restaurant in loose chinos, a white cotton tee and an amused smile—the kind a cat circling a broken-winged bird would wear.

‘You want to eat?’ he asked.

‘No, thanks, but some orange juice would be great.’

As she took her seat he ordered for her. Oh, Lord, the guy was temptation enough without suddenly switching to Italian and sounding all seductive first thing in the morning.

He caught her staring and raised an eyebrow. ‘So how does this work?’ he asked.

‘Basically, you tell me what you want and I arrange it.’ She ignored the widening smile on his mouth. ‘Gia instructed me to do whatever it takes for this to happen.’

‘Whatever it takes?’

She sighed. ‘Your little mind’s still in the gutter.’

‘But I’ve got the rest of me out.’

‘I never thought the rest of you was in it,’ she said simply. ‘Now tell me what you want.’

His smile slowly widened again. ‘So, this is what you do all day? Arrange things for Gia?’

‘That is my job.’

‘It must be exhausting.’ He sat back as the waiter served them both a glass of fresh juice. ‘What are the perks? You obviously don’t get to wear her designs.’ He gave her fresh white shirt and black skirt combo a cursory glance—clearly uninspired.

Good. That was the point. But she couldn’t stop a little defence seeping out. ‘Men wear suits—why not women?’

‘In a creative industry?’

‘It’s not my job to be creative. I need to be efficient.’

‘Why not both?’

She shook her head. ‘Around Gia I need to be unobtrusive.’

He laughed. ‘Doesn’t matter what you wear, darling, you can never fade in

to the background.’

He was doing it again. Making her laugh. Paying her attention. Making her feel warm and alive and so easily attracted to him.

‘So your life is nothing but work? No boyfriend?’ he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. It was tempting to say there was. To invent a wildly passionate lover. To be as in love as it was possible to be. To be safe. But her wayward body dominated. Answering while she was still mulling her options—her head slowly shaking.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve been living like a puritan all these years?’ He chuckled. ‘You still feel guilty about what happened?’

She sharply glanced at him. He’d known she felt guilty?

His smile softened at her expression. ‘You were such a ‘good girl’, Victoria. You’d never gone against your parents’ wishes.’

‘I went against everyone’s expectations that day,’ she pointed out with a touch of heat. She hadn’t been that much of a child.

‘True. But that’s nothing to feel guilty about.’ He paused. ‘You didn’t cheat on him.’

No? Where was the line? Just by looking at Liam she’d been all but cheating.

He shook his head. ‘You broke up with him before anything happened with me. You’d already said no to me before you broke up with him.’

But then it hadn’t taken her long to change her mind. How had this happened? She’d been in his company less than five minutes and already they were talking past and personal. ‘Don’t worry, what happened between us hasn’t scarred me for life or anything.’ Vivi laughed lightly. ‘I’m so over it.’

‘So you’ve had other boyfriends since me.’

‘Of course.’ Not a lie this time.

‘But nothing serious?’