Living the Charade

For a while nothing happened, and then she became aware of the sound of Valentino’s harsh breathing above her own panting breaths, the seagulls squalling overhead.

When she finally managed to open her eyes she found him looking down at her with an open hunger that made her feel instantly panicked.

Oh, God... ‘What have I done?’

‘I believe it’s called having an orgasm,’ he mocked, clearly understanding the horrified expression on her face. ‘Followed closely by feeling regret.’

Regret? Did she regret it? She didn’t even know. But all the reasons this was not a good idea rushed back like a blast of cold water from a hose.

Public beach. Playboy. Promotion.

If she could bury her head in the sand right now she would.

A seagull squawked close by and Miller jumped. ‘You have to get off me.’

‘I’m not actually on you.’

He was right. His body hovered beside her, shielding her from any prying eyes at TJ’s house some way along the beach, but he wasn’t holding her down.

Miller scrambled to a sitting position and looked over his shoulder. They were still alone. Thank God.

‘I said I wasn’t going to have sex with you,’ she spat at him accusingly. She knew full well that she was equally responsible for what had just happened between them, but was still unable to fully take in the sensations rippling through her body. ‘This never happened,’ she said firmly, her emotions as brittle as an empty seashell.

His eyebrows drew together and his features were taut. ‘Not part of your plan, Sunshine?’

‘You know it wasn’t.’ She hated the sarcastic tilt to his lips.

‘Believe me, it’s not part of mine either.’ He pushed himself to a sitting position and deftly removed his runners and socks. Then he dragged his T-shirt up over his chest and Miller’s insides, still soft and pliant, clenched alarmingly.

His easy acceptance of her brush-off was slightly insulting, and the illogical nature of that thought wasn’t lost on her in the heat of the moment. In fact, it only made her more irritable. But whether at him or herself she wasn’t sure.

She watched him jog down to the shoreline and gracefully duck dive beneath an incoming wave. Thank God she didn’t like him very much. She wasn’t ready to change her life for a man, and some deep feminine instinct warned her that being with him intimately, even once, would be life-changing.

She sighed. At least for her it would be. For him life would no doubt go on as normal.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TJ TIPPED his Akubra back from his forehead and rocked forward on his chair, and Miller knew the presentation she and Dexter had just delivered hadn’t gone well.

‘Miller, you’re a talented girl, no doubt about it,’ he drawled, in a condescending tone that set Miller’s teeth on edge. ‘But I told Winston International I’d give their show another shot.’

What?

Miller narrowed her eyes, sensing Dexter’s surprise without having to look at him.

The reason TJ had even approached Oracle was because he was disgruntled with the service he’d been receiving from Winston International.

‘I was thinking about it all last night, and it doesn’t seem right to trash our relationship after so many years. One of their boys is going to show me what they’ve got Monday morning. In the meantime why don’t you fix the concerns I have with your current proposal and get it back to me ASAP?’

Miller was thankful for the years of practice she’d had at pretending she was perfectly fine when she wasn’t, and schooled her features into an expression of professional blandness. Was this because she’d rejected his advances in the restaurant the week before? He might be ruthless and without morals, but he didn’t strike her as the vindictive type. But he did know Oracle was desperate for his business, so he had them over a barrel in that regard.

She had started to hate this aspect of business. The ‘anything goes’ mantra Oracle had adopted as the global economic crisis had deepened. In some ways she supposed it had always been there, but she hadn’t noticed it in her single-minded climb to the top.

Now that she was almost there, so close she could see her name on a corner office overlooking the famed Harbour Bridge and the soaring white waves of the Opera House, she felt unsettled. Nerves, she supposed. But also the acknowledgement that maybe she didn’t have the killer instinct that was required in the upper echelons of big business. Miller cared too much about business practice, and sometimes that didn’t play out very well.