Just One Night.... Trish Morey
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not to think about what a sum like that would mean to the timing of her renovation plans. She could engage a decent architect, get quotes, maybe landscaping so Sam had a decent play area outside. But it was impossible. ‘No!’
‘Then you won’t come?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘So what am I supposed to tell Culshaw?’
‘It’s your lie, Leo. Tell him what you like. Tell him it’s family reasons, tell him I’m sick, tell him I never was and never will be your fiancée. It’s your call.’ On her shoulder her son grew unsettled, picking up on the vibe in the air, butting his head from side to side against her shoulder, starting to grizzle.
‘What was that?’ Leo demanded.
‘Me about to hang up. Are we finished here? Only it’s not really a convenient time to call.’ Please, God, can we be finished here? she prayed as her muscles burned under Sam’s weight.
‘No. I need…I need some documents to take with me!’
‘Fine,’ she said, sighing, wondering which documents they could possibly be when she was sure she’d provided him with everything he needed already and in triplicate. ‘Let me know which ones and I’ll email them straight away.’
‘No. I need them in hard copy. All originals. You have to bring them to the hotel, as soon as you can.’
If she’d had a free hand, it would have gone to her head. ‘I’ve always emailed documents to you before. It’s never been a problem.’
‘I need those documents delivered to me personally this afternoon!’
She sucked in a breath. ‘Okay. I’ll get them couriered over as soon as I can.’
‘No. Definitely not couriered. You need to deliver them personally.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I need them immediately and they’re commercial-in-confidence. I’m not about to entrust them to someone else, not at this crucial stage. You’ll have to bring them yourself.’
When she made no response, she heard, ‘You did say you wanted to keep working with me.’
Bastard! She could take a veiled threat just as well as she could take a hint. She was damned if she’d take more of Leo’s money to pretend to be his fiancée, but right now she couldn’t afford to ditch him as a client. ‘Of course. I’ll bring them over myself.’
‘Good. I’ll be in my suite.’
‘Not there.’
‘What?’
‘I won’t bring them to your suite. I won’t go there again. Not after…’
‘You think I’d try something?’
Hardly, after the way they’d parted last night. But she didn’t trust herself not to be tempted, there in that room where they’d done so many things… How could she be in that room and see that wall and know how it felt to have her back to it and have him between her legs and driving into her? How could she calmly pretend nothing had happened? How could she not want it to happen again?
She swallowed, trying not to think of all the reasons she didn’t want to be in that room. ‘I just don’t think it would be wise.’
She heard his rushed expulsion of air. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s play it your way. Culshaw’s taking Maureen out to visit friends so we should be safe to meet in the bar. I’ll buy you a coffee—is that permissible?’
She nodded into the phone, relieved at least they’d be meeting somewhere public. Sam settled back on her shoulder. ‘A coffee would be fine.’
He clicked off his phone, cursing softly. So she wouldn’t come to the room. But she had agreed to come. Of course she could have emailed the documents, but then he’d have no way of convincing her to come to the island with him. He could convince her, he had no doubt. Look at how she had all but melted in his arms last night with just one kiss! And once she was back in his bed, she’d get over whatever hang-up she had about coming with him. He was already looking forward to it.
Because while sex was easy to come by, great sex wasn’t, and last night had definitely registered right up there with the best. And while he’d been content for it to end last night the way it had—it would have ended some time anyway—the opportunity to have her in his bed for another couple of nights held considerable appeal. He could do much worse than sharing his bed with Evelyn.
He’d soon make it happen. Once she was here, he’d just have to come up with a way to get her up to his suite and convince her how much she wanted to come with him. He’d think of something.
His phone rang, a glance at the caller ID assuring him it wasn’t Evelyn calling back to change her mind about meeting him.
‘Eric,’ he said, relieved, his mind already working on a plan to get Evelyn up to his suite. ‘What can I do for you?’
But relief died a quick death as Culshaw explained how Maureen was looking to book a day in the island resort’s spa for the women and wanted to know if Evelyn might be interested. Leo knew he had to say something now, in case she refused to change her mind.
‘Look, Eric, about Evelyn, you might want to warn Maureen. It seems there’s a slight chance she might not be able to make it after all…’
‘I wish I could help, lovey,’ Mrs Willis said, when Evelyn nipped over to ask if she would mind babysitting again, this time only for an hour or so, ‘but my brother Jack’s just had an episode and I promised to go and help Nancy with him. He gets terribly confused, poor love. I was going to pop by and tell you, because I might be away for a few days.’ She stopped folding clothes for a moment, her creased brow folding along time worn lines. ‘I hate leaving you, though, with the hot water not working and no family to help out. Such a tragedy to lose your parents so young and then your granddad. They’ve all missed out on so much, watching you grow up and now Sam.’ She shook her head. ‘Such a pity.’
‘I know,’ Eve said softly, feeling a pang of sadness for her grandfather and for parents she could barely remember. ‘But don’t worry. You do too much for me as it is. We’ll be fine. I’ll call Emily down the street. She’s always on the lookout for some extra cash.’
Except when she called it was to hear Emily was already working a shift at the local supermarket. Which left Evelyn with only one option.
Not such a bad option, she reflected as she turned onto the freeway and pointed her little city commuter towards the city, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her earlier. She hadn’t wanted to tell Leo about her child, figuring it was none of his business and that it might prejudice his opinion of her as someone able to handle his workload, but neither did she trust him not to try to change her mind by fair means or foul. And then there was the matter of not trusting her own wayward desires. Look where they’d landed her last night—right in Leo Zamos’s bed. Not to mention his spa bath…
She shivered, unable to suppress either a secret smile or the delicious shimmy at the memories of his mouth seeking her breasts as he raised her over him, of his hungry mouth at her nipples as he probed her entrance, of the long, hard length of him filling her as he pulled her down on him inch by glorious inch, a shimmy that radiated out from muscles tender and sore and clearly still far too ready to party.
Oh, no, there was no way she could trust herself with him.
And if there was one certain way to ensure that there would be no repeats of last night’s performance, it was to take her child along. Leo didn’t do family, and clearly didn’t want one. He’d made that abundantly clear and she was grateful he had. For it had put paid to that tiny creature that insisted on fluttering around inside her despite what she’d known in her head all along to be true. That his interest in her began and finished with sex. There could be no future with him. There was no future for them.
And