Mr One-Night Stand

‘No, not for sex.’

‘Then I’m officially lost.’

She halted to look at him properly now, an unidentifiable emotion flaring in her eyes. ‘It’s everything else,’ she said. ‘We’re meant to be business partners, doing what’s best for the business. Not ourselves. But you dominate my every thought, whether we’re together or not, and I can’t give work the best of me when I’m so wrapped up in you. I can’t sit in a business meeting, my entire focus on the job, when you are sitting right there with me, tempting my brain away.’

‘Hey, it’s been the same for me,’ he said. ‘It’s precisely what I was

saying in the car. Denying this between us only makes us distracted. I see us humouring this attraction as a way of keeping a lid on it, getting our heads back in the game...’

She studied him, and the pulse working in her throat, her clenched hold around her cup spoke volumes. ‘This isn’t some game.’

‘Okay, sorry—I don’t mean it flippantly,’ he back-pedalled. ‘I just mean that it’ll help us to concentrate, to focus again.’

‘And then what?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘When you’ve had your fill? What happens then?’

He shrugged, confusion reigning. ‘We’ll deal with that when we get to it.’

She shook her head at him, a strange smile quirking her lips. ‘If only life was as simple as you make it out to be.’

‘It can be that simple.’

‘Not for me,’ she said, pressing on once more without giving him a backward glance. ‘It’s too risky—you’re too risky—and I have enough to worry about with my sister leaving for university soon and my mother’s health declining.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

She ignored the way his concern warmed her, the way it urged her to look at him. She knew it would break her resolve and she spun on her heel, eyes averted. ‘Look, let’s get back to the office—we’ve lost enough of the day as it is.’

‘But we haven’t finished our talk.’

‘Yes, we have,’ she said, starting to retrace their steps without waiting for him. ‘I don’t have time for a relationship.’

He fell into step beside her. ‘And I’m not asking for a relationship.’

‘No, sorry—I forgot.’ She shot him a look. ‘You’re just asking for some mutual fun.’

The way she said it messed with his head, and something inside him turned desperate. Was she looking for more? Was that where he’d gone wrong?

But what did it matter if she was? It sure as hell wasn’t what he wanted, was it?

She was still charging ahead, and the sudden need to have her undivided attention had him tossing his coffee into a nearby bin and cutting off her stride. He pulled her into a deserted side-street and spun her to face him.

‘Tell me this isn’t fun for you,’ he said. ‘Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll drop this.’

‘Marcus.’ The way she said it—breathless, almost fearful—made his body ache.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wide, and he stepped forward, forcing her back.

‘Tell me this isn’t explosive.’

She shook her head, pressing her free hand feebly against him. ‘Marcus.’

‘Tell me it doesn’t make your heart beat uncontrollably, your blood ring in your ears and your sanity leave you.’

He continued walking her backwards as he raised his hand to cup her chin. ‘Tell me it doesn’t take it all away—the stress, the pain, the worry.’