Consequences of a Hot Havana Night

* * *

In the still, tense silence that followed his remark, Kitty felt her insides loosen. ‘No, you can’t be,’ she said hoarsely.

Her stomach was in freefall.

It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be, she thought frantically. She’d been in the labs only yesterday, and surely somebody would have said something about his imminent arrival.

He must be lying.

Only her skin felt suddenly too tight, her heartbeat too loud, and as though she was looking at him for the first time she registered the tiny pleats at the top of his shirtsleeves; the expensive dark suit trousers and the handmade black leather brogues.

His eyes rested on her face and she felt a prickle of heat spread over her skin as he held out his hand.

‘I assure you I am.’

His voice had grown cooler, its authority no longer like quicksilver beneath the surface but smooth and inflexible like high tensile steel, and with a pang of acceptance she knew that he was telling the truth.

There was only one thing to do and, feeling her breath ricocheting against her ribs, she took his hand and shook it briefly.

His eyes raked her face and then he smiled. Only it wasn’t the slow, languorous smile of her imagination. Instead it was cool and assessing and uncompromising. The smile of a CEO...the smile of a boss.

Her boss.

Her heart was leaping against her ribs. Surely there was some mistake? But she knew that there wasn’t. No matter which way she turned, the picture and the facts were still the same.

She’d just had sex—wild, unplanned sex—on a sofa with the man who signed her paycheque.

Her head was spinning.

In the five years since Jimmy’s death she’d not so much as looked at a man—she certainly hadn’t been intending to meet one today. Ironically, if she had been, she would have been taking more care and she might not have stepped out in front of his bike.

But out there on the road there had been more going on than just a near accident. They might not have collided physically, but some invisible chemical reaction had been set in motion.

Her pulse pitched, carried along by another current of panic.

If he’d simply summoned her into his office and introduced himself, like any normal boss, this would never have happened. But, no, he’d had to fall off his motorbike, so she’d had all those unnecessary and confusing and unguarded emotions churning around inside her. And that tension between them had kept on winding tighter and tighter.

Remembering the feel of his body against hers, she felt heat wrap around her face. With him she had become another person. His hands, his mouth, had unlocked a wildly passionate woman. Her hunger had been beyond her control—she hadn’t known it was possible to feel what he’d made her feel. It had been incredible, and she was still reeling from what had happened. And the fact that she had made it happen.

She had wanted that tumult of touch and release. She had wanted the solid weight of a man’s body pressing into her. She had wanted him.

Not love or commitment. Not a future or a soulmate. She knew the void in her heart would never, could never, be filled by any man, because she knew the other side of love was loss, and she simply didn’t have it in her to deal with that terrible ache of loneliness.

After Jimmy had died the pain had been unbearable, and she’d sworn never to allow herself to be that vulnerable again. It was easier simply to shut down that part of her life rather than risk having it snatched away again.

But she was still a woman, and this man was so gorgeous, and suddenly that had been enough. Enough for her to let go, to let her hair down. Only now she understood that a part of why it had been enough had been their anonymity and the knowledge that she would never have to see him again.

And now it turned out that she was working for him.

She looked up at him, dazed and then out of nowhere she pictured her sister’s face. Lizzie wouldn’t care that César was her boss. She would argue that desire was a great equaliser. Of course that was hard to do when your skin was still humming from the heat and hardness of your boss’s body, but she couldn’t change what had happened so she was just going to have to face it head-on.

Her stomach clenched. And becoming a widow had taught her all she needed to know about facing difficulties head-on. ‘I didn’t know who you were.’

His eyes found hers. ‘Clearly. Unless you always try to kill your boss and then seduce him.’

Her cheeks felt suddenly hot. ‘I didn’t try and kill you. You nearly ran me over.’

He stared at her impassively. ‘But you did seduce me.’