Secret Affairs. Natalie Anderson
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surface—and blocked access to the depths behind.
She replaced the receiver and turned to face her shameless eavesdropper full on. She ran her hands down the side of her skirt, pretending to smooth it but really trying to get rid of the clammy feeling.
‘You don’t want to keep them?’ He was far too close in this spacious office—why couldn’t he stay on the far side of her desk?
He inspected the behemoth bunch and looked at the card—the millions of miniature red hearts on the cover obviously showed it was a romantic gift. Somehow him knowing that annoyed her all the more. And he already knew she didn’t want them, he’d heard the courier conversation.
‘I’m allergic,’ she lied through a clamped smile. She wanted to get rid of both the flowers and him. How was she supposed to concentrate when her desk was covered with strong-smelling blooms and a man more gorgeous than the latest Calvin Klein model was making the room shrink more with every breath?
His gaze narrowed. ‘Really?’
‘Sure.’ She blinked. ‘I need to get these to Reception.’ She reached out to pick up the flowers and escape. But in her haste she scraped her finger against one of the green stems, scratching it. ‘Damn.’ She looked at her skin and watched the fine white scratch flood with red. Then she glared at the bunch. ‘I hate them.’
‘Let me see.’ He sidestepped the flowers and had her wrist in his hand before her brain could even engage.
Her pulse shot into the stratosphere. ‘It’s fine. A little plaster or a tissue will stop it,’ she babbled faster than a Japanese bullet train rode the rail. Every muscle quivered, wanting him to draw her into a closer embrace.
‘Suck on it.’ His gaze snared hers. ‘Or I will if you want.’
For half a second her jaw hung open. Oh, he was every bit as outrageous in the morning as he was at night. And she was dangerously tickled.
‘It’s fine.’ She snatched her hand back, curling her fingers into a fist. ‘I need to get these out of here.’
‘Hey.’ He frowned and reached out again, pushing her wide gold bangle further up her arm. His frown super-sized up as he stared at the skin he’d exposed. ‘Did I do that?’
‘Oh.’ She glanced down at the purple fingerprint bruises circling her wrist. ‘Don’t worry about it. I bruise easily.’
He looked back to her face, all the erotic spark in his expression stamped out by concern. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ She shook her head quickly. ‘Like I said, it’s nothing.’ Honestly, his contrition just made it worse. She did bruise easily and his switching to all serious made him all the more gorgeous. And now he was ever so lightly touching each bruise with a single fingertip.
‘It’s not fine.’
Penny swallowed. With difficulty. Did he have to be so genuine? She needed to get out of there before she did something stupid like puddle at his feet. That gentle stroking was having some kind of weird hypnotic effect, making her want to move even closer. Instead she turned to the flowers.
‘I’ll take them.’ He picked up the massive bunch with just the one hand.
Okay, that was good because he’d be gone and she’d have a few minutes to bang her head and hormones back together. She should be polite and say something. But she didn’t think she had a ‘thank you’ in her this second. The sensations still reverberated, shaking her insides worse than any earthquake could.
‘Penny—’
‘Mason should be here any minute,’ she said quickly to stave off any more of the soft attention.
‘No Mason today,’ Carter answered. ‘He’s working from home. He’ll have sent you an email.’
She frowned. Mason never worked from home. He might be eighty but he was almost always first in the door every day. ‘I’ll take what he needs to him there.’ Truthfully she wanted to check on him.
‘That would be great.’
Their gazes collided again, only this time the underlying awareness was tempered by mutual concern.
‘I’ll find out who’s hurting him,’ Carter said, calmly determined.
Penny nodded.
He cared about the old man, that was obvious. Some thing jerked deep inside her—the first stirrings of respect and a shared goal.
‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ He swept out of the room.
Penny just sank into her chair.
Carter carried the oversize bunch of blooms down to Reception. Taking the stairs rather than the lift used a bit of the energy coiled in his body, but not enough. Like an overflowing dam he needed a runoff to ease some of the pressure.
Penny had got under his skin faster than snake venom got into a mouse’s nervous system. He’d thought about her all night instead of getting his head around the company setup. Seeing her again today had only made it worse. She looked unbelievably different. The clubbing vixen had vanished and in her place was a perfect vision of conservative and capable. An, oh-so-sensible-length skirt simply highlighted slim ankles and sweet curves, a virginal white blouse was covered by a neatly tailored navy jacket. Hell, there’d even been a strand of pearls at her neck. With her shiny black hair swept back into a plait and her even blacker eyes, she’d looked like the epitome of the nineteen-forties secretary. No matter what she wore, she was beautiful.
Ordinarily Carter wasn’t averse to mixing business and pleasure. When business took up so much time, it was sometimes the only way he could find room for pleasure. So long as the woman understood the interest was only ever a temporary thing, and that there were no benefits to the arrangement other than the physical. He didn’t generally mix it with someone directly subordinate to him, but someone in one of the offshoot companies or satellite offices.
But he shouldn’t mess with Penny—not with only a week or two to find the slime-ball ripping Mason off. But he didn’t think he was going to be able to work without coming to some kind of arrangement with her, because her challenge was enough to smash his concentration completely. Fortunately he figured she was a woman who’d understand the kind of deal he liked, and the short time frame saved them from any possible messiness. He just had to ensure she understood the benefits—and the boundaries.
In the privacy of the stairwell he opened the card still attached to the flowers.
Hoping to see you again tonight—Aaron.
Carter’s muscles tightened. Had she seen him last night? Maybe she had had a hot date after meeting up with the women. Had she gone to this Aaron with the taste of Carter still on her? Because he could still taste her—hot, fresh, hungry.
He wasn’t in the least surprised to think she’d go to another guy having just blown hot for him; he was well used to women who manipulated, playing one man off against another. His ex had done exactly that—trying to force him into making a commitment by making him jealous. It hadn’t worked. And he sure as hell wasn’t feeling jealous now. The aggro sharpening his body this minute was because of the threat to Mason. Not Penny.
He stalked out to Reception and put the flowers on the counter. ‘I think a courier company is coming to pick these up.’
The receptionist grinned as she looked at them. ‘Penny sent them down?’ She shook her head. ‘That’s the third bunch this week. She’s mad not to want them.’
The third this week? It was only Tuesday. Yeah, she would like holding the interest of multiple men. His long-held cynicism surged higher—there was no doubt Penny was as greedy and needy as every other woman he’d known.
It was almost an hour before Carter reappeared, a piece of paper in his hand and a frown creasing his brow. ‘Penny, I need you to—’
He