Fire Beneath the Ice
"I'll carry your suitcase through in a moment and you can freshen up a little before we go down to dinner." He glanced at her now and she felt her pulse leap at his closeness. She could cope with him in an office situation, just, but this was too informal, too intimate.
"That is, if you're staying?" he added softly, with one raised eyebrow.
"Of course I'm staying." She reached for her glass with a jerky hand and swallowed half the sherry in one gulp. She would have liked to edge down the set tee a little but didn't dare. The evening was enough of a disaster as it was without adding to her crimes.
"I misread the situation before," she added, as coolly as she could.
"That you did," he agreed gravely, but with an underlying throb of amusement in his voice that added to the heat in her cheeks. She swallowed the rest of the sherry without even realising what she was doing, and he took the empty glass and silently refilled it, sitting down next to her again with a little sigh.
"It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it?" He stretched out his long legs as he spoke and she nodded a reply as she watched him through her lashes. He had leant back against the set tee closing his eyes, the glass of whisky held loosely in one hand, and she couldn't believe what the casual pose was doing to her hormones, the ones she hadn't known she had until _recently. He had to be the most sexy, flagrantly masculine, attractive man she had ever met in her whole-- "Would you like to phone and see how Hannah is?"
She jumped so violently as he spoke that the rest of her sherry, which fortunately wasn't much as she had been sipping it unknowingly as she watched him, disappeared down the front of her blouse. Hannah.
She felt a moment's deep and piercing guilt. Here she was, sitting positively ogling this man, lusting after him, and she hadn't given her daughter a thought.
"Yes, yes I would. Where...?"
"Over there." He gestured to the phone with one hand as his eyes narrowed on her flustered face.
"And relax, Lydia. This is supposed to be the time of the day when you relax," he added grimly, frowning slightly.
She spared him a cool smile as she rose hastily and walked across to the phone. If he'd read her thoughts. She felt her heart leap against her ribcage. But he couldn't. Thank goodness. A fragile defence but better than nothing.
Hannah was fine, and after a brief conversation with her mother she turned to face Wolf again with a composure that was hard-won.
"I'll just change..." She indicated her stained blouse and he rose immediately, carrying her case into her room without speaking and leaving quietly, closing the door behind him.
She sank down on one of the large twin beds once she was alone, and willed her racing thoughts to slow down. She had to pull herself together: this just wouldn't do. She was acting like a teenager on her first date, for goodness' sake. She lay back on the soft cover for a moment and shut her eyes. But then, this was probably how people did feel on a date--she wouldn't know, wou
ld she? There had only ever been Matthew, after all, and he had always been as familiar as her own skin. She sat up abruptly and shook her head at her thoughts. Anyway, this wasn't a date, first or otherwise. She was going to have dinner with her boss on what was a brief business trip, and that was that. She reached for her case and began to unpack quickly. But that kiss. She made an exclamation of annoyance at herself out loud. That kiss had happened because he was trying it on to see how she would respond. It was as simple as that. She might be unworldly in his eyes, vulnerable even, but even she knew that most men were capable of sleeping with a woman without it meaning a thing. And he had already admitted that emotional ties, even the vaguest sort of involvement, were not his style. She bit her lip hard. He probably thought that if she had recently separated she would be missing that particular. ingredient of married life. Even that he would be doing her a favour? She reared up at the thought, and stalked into the bathroom as though Wolf himself had voiced it.
When she emerged from her room some fifteen minutes later Wolf was waiting for her, his eyes lazy as they wandered over the smart but feminine soft wool dress in pale cream, and ultra-slender high-heeled shoes in the same shade.
She had chosen the outfit because the dress gave her poise and confidence and the shoes an extra two inches in height. She had the feeling she would need all the help she could get tonight. One look at his dark face confirmed the thought.
"You look beautiful, Lydia," he said softly, 'but perhaps a more casual hairstyle? “he suggested blandly.
She touched the tight knot at the back of her head that she had purposely strained every last hair into, and smiled brightly, her eyes expressionless.
"I don't think so." She fiddled with the clasp of her bag so that she _could let her eyes drop from his--that clear blue gaze was a little disconcerting.
"This is a working trip, after all."
"Of course." There was something in his voice she couldn't quite place, but when she glanced at him quickly the hard, male face was cool and cynical, his eyes hooded.
"Ever the perfect secretary. But you do allow yourself to eat, I trust?" He moved across and opened the door into the corridor, waving her through with a mocking flourish. As she passed she felt his hand on the clasp at the back of her head but was too late to do anything about it as her hair swung in a soft silky veil to frame her face and shoulders.
"That's better." There was immense satisfaction in the arrogant male voice as he glanced down into her angry eyes.
"Far more comfortable," he added lazily.
"I thought you insisted that your employees dressed and behaved discreetly?" she said tightly, as the words he had spoken that day weeks ago came back to her.
"I have nothing at all against your being discreet, Lydia." He smiled slowly.
"Far from it." She glared at him in reply and the smile deepened.
"But surely you understand part of being a good secretary is to keep your boss happy?" It was such an outrageous line that she couldn't formulate an adequately scathing rejoinder before the lift glided upwards and the doors opened, but as she walked past him, head held high, her eyes flashed fire.