Blackmailed By The Boss. Kathryn Ross
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and I’m happy to say it’s all coming on really well.’ As she spoke she was running an eye over the drawings that lay before her on the desk.
‘I didn’t know you were dating someone new.’ Jordan ignored her words and instead zoomed in on the very thing she wanted to gloss over.
She hesitated and for a moment contemplated lying to him as well, and then shrugged. What was the point in pretending?
‘I’m not.’ She didn’t glance up; instead she shuffled the papers in front of her, trying to get back to the work. ‘I want to talk to you about the budget for the new scheme—’
But Jordan wouldn’t let the subject go. ‘So why did you tell someone you were dating?’ he persisted, stopping her in her tracks.
‘Because…’ she leaned back in her chair, running a flustered hand through her long blonde hair. ‘Well, I suppose I didn’t want Melanie to know that the most exciting thing I’ve done recently is watch a rerun of Dallas and order a take-away pizza.’ The truth just popped out and she was surprised by his reaction because he seemed to relax somewhat, as if he found it terribly amusing.
‘Oh, I see.’
‘Not that I haven’t had offers, of course,’ she continued swiftly, feeling cross with herself for telling him that. ‘But I’ve just been too bogged down with all of this.’ She flicked the work in front of her derisively.
‘Yeah, I know you’ve been working very hard,’ he replied seriously.
Something about the way he looked at her set off a prickle of awareness inside that was deeply disturbing.
‘Anyway, I know I’m nearly over budget on the curtaining for these apartments.’ She returned the conversation very firmly to work. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that effect on her and she supposed it wouldn’t be the last. But it didn’t mean anything; it was because he was a predatory male, and she read the danger signals loud and clear.
‘But I want to use the more expensive sheer muslin for the front windows. I mean, what’s the point of building somewhere with fabulous views and then spoiling it with the window dressing? It’s like buying a fantastically expensive dress and teaming it with horrid shoes. Spoils the whole image.’ She looked up and fixed him with wide, fervent green eyes. ‘So can I up the budget?’
‘Again?’ His voice was dry. ‘What are you doing, gold-plating the whole apartment block?’
‘The windows will sell the place,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘Women will walk into those apartments and fall in love with them at first sight.’
‘That’s what it takes, is it—good window dressing?’ Jordan grinned. ‘OK,’ he shrugged, ‘you’re the interior designer. I’ll go with your recommendation and I’ll up the budget.’
‘Great—’
‘On one condition.’ He cut across her.
‘What?’
‘Have dinner with me tonight.’
The invitation took her aback. She looked up into his hazel eyes and all sorts of warning bells rang. ‘I can’t, Jordan. I’m sorry, but I’ve far too much on.’
‘One evening won’t make much difference on the work schedule. And anyway, there are a few things I think we should talk about.’
She had been left unsure as to whether he was asking her out to discuss business or asking her out on a date.
Charlotte freeze-framed the memory now as she lay in bed. She was still unsure about that.
She stared at the ceiling and analysed that invitation. They’d eaten together a few times over the last year, usually business lunches, sometimes with her father, sometimes alone. They’d never ended up naked in bed together the next morning!
Jordan moved in the bed, rolling over onto his side so that he was facing her. For a moment she thought he was waking up and her nerves jangled alarmingly, her heart pumping as if she’d been running on the treadmill at the gym. He settled down and continued to sleep. She noticed how dark his hair was against the white of the pillow, and how the sheets had slipped from his shoulders, revealing a tanned torso that was enticingly muscled. Remembering how tenderly those strong arms had held her last night, she felt her stomach dip in another pang of alarm.
This was terrible. She didn’t want to think about what had actually transpired. She was going to have to get out of here, and fast, before he woke up. Because she couldn’t face him. The whole thing was mortifyingly embarrassing.
Slipping a foot out of the bed, she sidled across from beneath the covers, trying to ease herself out so as not to create a sound or a draught. She ended up on her hands and knees on his floor and there she crouched for a few moments, trying to get her breath back, casting her eyes frantically around for her clothes.
Even as she was kneeling there she registered the ridiculousness of the situation. She was a thirty-two-year-old businesswoman, for heaven’s sake—in fact, thirty-three in a few months’ time—and here she was, almost hiding under a man’s bed! She needed to be adult about this, she reasoned with herself. People had sex these days and they didn’t agonise about it, they just enjoyed it.
But the logical words didn’t cut much ice with her. Trouble was, she had never got with the modern programme—had never done the casual-sex bit. She needed to be in love with a man before she slept with him. All right, it was old-fashioned, but that was just how she was. So what had happened to change that last night?
She heard the bed creak as Jordan moved again. Her head shot up as she saw his hand dangling over the side, almost touching the top of her blonde curls. Any moment now he was going to lean over and ask her what she was doing crouching on his floor.
She waited for it, prepared to lie that she was looking for her contact lenses. But she didn’t wear contact lenses, and he probably knew that.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to stand up. She needn’t have worried—he was still asleep, this time sprawled over onto her side of the bed. Not that it was her bed, or her apartment. Darting a look around the room for her clothes, she could only see his shirt on a chair, so she picked it up and held it in front of her. At the same time Jordan’s hand seemed to be searching in the small space beside him, then he opened his eyes.
‘Hi.’ He smiled at her sleepily, then sat up slightly, his eyes moving over the long length of her legs to the shirt she held in front of her.
She, on the other hand, found her eyes drawn to his chest, which was broad and hairy and brought memories from last night trickling through her consciousness like red-hot lava.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked huskily.
She transferred her gaze quickly to his face to find his eyes resting on her with a kind of tender concern.
‘Of course I’m OK.’
He raked a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. ‘It’s just…well, I thought you were on the floor for a moment.’
‘I always start the day with a good crawl around on the bedroom floor.’ She hadn’t planned the sarcasm—it just slipped out. ‘It helps to tone the body.’
He smiled. ‘Your body doesn’t need much toning,’ he murmured, looking admiringly at the shapely long legs and the curves that were now hidden behind his shirt.
‘I was looking for my clothes, actually.’ Her voice seemed to have risen two octaves.
‘I think you’ll find them in the lounge, but what’s the hurry?’ He glanced at the illuminated numbers on his bedside clock. ‘It’s only early.’
How could he be so relaxed? As if this was nothing? Wasn’t he even the slightest bit embarrassed? OK, maybe he was used to waking up with different women in the morning, but they had to work together, for heaven’s sake!
Before