Double Dare

"It's a complete mess. There's so much paperwork that Tom hadn't been given access to in the early days. We only discovered it yesterday." He looked at her sheepishly. "We're going to have to be in Geneva for at least a couple of days a week."

She nodded, wishing he didn't feel as if he had to explain to her. They were good friends, not lovers. Not any more. "Have you organized a schedule yet?"

"Yes, we plan to divide the time equally if at all possible. A few days in London, then back out, probably Thursday."

She nodded.

He seemed to take her silence as disappointment. He covered her hand with his. "I'm sorry. We were timetabled to play squash this week."

"Hey, you don't have to explain to me." She looked down at his hand. He seemed unreal, distant, she could barely feel him. She was still being touched by Zac.

She dropped him at his Islington terrace, declining his invite to stay for lunch, and drove back to her own apartment, parking up her mini for the week. Mostly she traveled by tube or taxi, but she loved having the car nonetheless.

She began to look at the files she had brought home from work. One of the criteria of the Ashburn account was to invest in property. Ed had already targeted a development of apartments around a large marina along the south coast. Abby was looking for something a bit more adventurous.

As she leafed through the upcoming auctions her hands kept leading her back to a castle that was located in the west coast of Ireland. The photographs that accompanied the profile showed a gothic tower and ramparts that were architecturally outstanding, but begging for restoration. It would be a real gamble investing in something like that on behalf of a client, but it was also a rare property opportunity and Abby couldn't help being drawn to it. She certainly liked the idea of being locked up in the tower with a dark prince who kept her there at his mercy, playing out some wild idea on a big white bed. I wonder why? When she closed the file the castle remained on the top of the heap.

She worked on but turned to the window every so often to watch the curtains drifting on the warm breeze. As they were sucked out through the window into the heat of the afternoon she felt herself being drawn out with them. Her restlessness was getting the better of her. She was being inextricably drawn towards the lure of the enigmatic Mr. Bordino.

He'd made her blatant. She couldn't resist flirting with him. And the things he'd said, about people needing diversity and challenge. It was if he'd been reading the words from her soul. Then there was the no-small-fact that he was a total turn-on. She'd barely managed the taxi drive home from Marcy's the night before and had masturbated herself to sleep, bringing herself off several times, imagining herself captured in his arms again, his mouth on hers, his suggestive voice inviting her back. Soon.

She headed for the shower, and gave herself up to it. Closing her eyes, she thought about the way his hands had felt on her body. Her skin wanted contact. She leaned her back up against the tiles and let the water pour down over her breasts. It pounded against her skin. She turned against the wall, letting the water slide down her back. Her breasts rode up against the wet tiles but the cool, sleek surface couldn't respond to her warm, full flesh. She wanted contact, desperately. Her hands flickered restlessly over her body, but they were an insufficient panacea. She wanted him. When she stepped out of the shower, she knew she was going to take up his invitation and she was going to take it up now.

She dressed in knee-high suede boots and a black jersey mini dress. After she'd ordered a taxi she pulled on a long

raincoat and left the apartment.

It was twilight by the time she got to the venue. Standing in front of the closed glass vestibule, her mind ticked over frantically. She hadn't even considered that the place might be shut, which put a bit of a kink in her resolve, but then she noticed a small illuminated bell on one side set back and hidden from general view. She walked over and pressed the bell.

Seconds ticked by. There may not be anyone here on a Sunday, she told herself, but her body refused to believe it. Nerves were beginning to take hold of her when the interior doors flashed open and a big beefy man, with short spiked hair appeared. It was the man Zac had called Nathan, the night before. He looked at her with amusement, apparently his constant expression.

"Is Zac around?"

He swung the door wide and she stepped inside. "There's a band rehearsing. He's in there." He gestured down the corridor and glanced down at her long coat. "Help yourself."

When she emerged into the auditorium the place looked different. It was more brightly lit, exposing its quite large and gaunt interior. The seating from the night before had been neatly stacked away at the back of the space. A handful of people drifted about, only glancing at her as they moved boxed equipment towards the stage at the far end.

Zac was working at a microphone stand, adjusting the height and rearranging its position. Her heart rate responded immediately. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt and jeans. He was smiling and chatting to a woman in front of him. She was tall and elegant, her blue-black hair cut in a dramatic bob. She talked animatedly while fiddling with a guitar that hung across one lean hip.

Of course, Abby thought, there would be a string of women in his life. She was no doubt one of many that he expressed interest in. Just as she began to wonder if she could escape unseen, Zac reached over to a mixing desk on one side of the stage and flicked several switches. When he turned back he glanced over and saw her.

His eyes flashed immediately. He said something to the woman in front of him then jumped lithely from the stage, strolling over. "Abby, what a pleasant distraction." He looked her over with undisguised appraisal.

She smiled. "I thought I'd call over to find out some more details about hiring the venue for an office function." How blatantly feeble an excuse was that?

"Did you, indeed?" He gave her an indolent smile. "And this would be on behalf of your employer?"

Abby laughed. "Oh, absolutely."

He put his hand inside her coat and slid it open. His gaze fell to her boots, to the flash of naked thigh between them and the hem of the dress. He lifted his head. His eyes glimmered, their irises crystal azure. "You look as if you are dressed for something entirely different."

"It's the weekend."

"It is, and I don't think you came here to discuss a business function at all, did you?"

She smiled and shook her head. Her heart was pounding.

"Seems like that would be above and beyond the call of even the most hard-working receptionist." There was an insinuating tone to his voice that made her feel edgy with need and unsure. He stepped closer still, resting his hand on her hip, inside the coat. His other hand slipped to the light jersey of her dress where it clung to her shoulder and he lifted it lightly, tugging at her breasts with the movement. Her nipples were hard, and the movement of jersey across the taut surface tightened them again.