Unbuttoned by the Boss. Robyn Donald
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He watched as the guilt gave her an all-over-body sweep of red.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I lost track of time.’
She was just never going to be a cheat, was she? Never going to be someone who could do something she shouldn’t and not own up about it. He bet she’d never done anything remotely dodgy in her whole life. Jeez, they were poles apart.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He didn’t care. She’d done an amazing job clearing up the mess that was the Whistle Fund office. Everything was running on schedule again. Even the opening of the bar looked as if it was going to go off okay. The chaos of the last couple of weeks seemed to be at an end. In no small part thanks to Sophy. She was allowed an afternoon to slack off. ‘Just go home early. You’ve done heaps already.’
She lifted her head, the cool look back. ‘Okay. Thanks.’
He lingered for a half second too long, tempted to say or do something more. Finally he made himself turn and walk along to his own office. It had just been a kiss. Nothing more than that. He could forget it. He could ignore the tantalising prospect of seducing her. Sure he could.
At least try to do the right thing, Lorenzo—for once in your life.
Sophy hadn’t had any sleep. She’d sat up late again, working on her pieces. Unhappy with the necklace she’d made the night before. Her jewellery had to be something really special—couldn’t be something anyone could make in their own home if they had the time and the inclination. It was all about the eye, the detail and the little spark of difference. She had the resources—had been collecting vintage bits and bobs for years. Had gathered a lot while in Europe and had got invaluable experience when she’d worked on the floor of a jewellery shop in France. She’d spent her lunch breaks sitting in the workshop with the jewellers learning some of the finer points. She’d done a few courses too, so she had a reasonably solid technique now. But she didn’t have so much time to make the amount she needed for the show. And she wasn’t sure she had them exactly how she wanted them.
But on top of everything she was distracted. Wished Rosanna were on hand to help her out—with Vamp 101 classes.
She didn’t see Lorenzo all morning. But early afternoon, as the sun was hitting its zenith, she heard that familiar sound. She looked out of the open window. He was on his makeshift basketball court, wearing jeans of course. But his torso was covered this time—with a loose NBA style singlet.
He glanced up to the window, saw she was watching. She pulled her head back in but she saw his grin. He bounced the ball a few times. Executed some fancy run up to the board and jumped high—landing the shot.
He glanced back up to her. Yeah, okay, she was still watching and he knew it. Too slowly he lifted the hem of his singlet, used it to wipe the sweat from his brow—revealing his abs in the process. Deliberately. Provocatively.
He lifted his head and looked up at her. He wanted a reaction? Impossible—she couldn’t move, just stared at him.
His smile appeared and both his hands moved to the hem of his singlet. In a flash he’d whipped it over his head—tossing it to the side.
Oh God, she just couldn’t take it any more. She slammed her window shut. Heard his laugh anyway. That tore it. She stood and marched downstairs, opened the back door, let it slam behind her. He turned, she saw his surprise. So he was just winding her up? He’d pay.
She walked past him and went to where the ball was rolling towards the fence, scooped it up. It was bigger than the netball she used to play with. She prayed to the sporting gods for some kind of benevolence. It had been years since she last played netball, but she had been Goal Attack—responsible for shooting through the hoops. She rolled the ball against her palms, pulling it in tight to her chest, getting the feel for it. She was too steamed to care much anyway. Really she felt like throwing the thing at his head rather than the hoop.
She turned. He was too close behind her. She gave him a pointed look and he took a step to the side. Neither said anything. She looked up at the basket. So damn high. Still, she had energy in her muscles that needed to be expended.
She aimed and threw. The net swished as the ball slid through. Confidence from her success swamped her and she turned to stare hotly at him.
‘Been keeping secrets?’ His voice was low. ‘You want to play with me, Sophy?’
‘I want to beat you.’
His whole body tensed. She saw the electricity surge in him.
‘No one beats me.’
‘Not afraid, are you, Lorenzo?’
The briefest pause and then that smile curled. ‘What are we playing for?’ He quietly walked closer.
Yeah, she’d hoped she could bring out his wicked side. She just hadn’t realised quite how easy it would be. ‘What do you want to play for?’
Was this her? Leaning provocatively close to him, practically purring?
His amusement deepened but it didn’t bother her, for she saw the fire too. ‘You’re the one suggesting the game; you come up with the prize.’
She just stared at him, letting her eyes say it all.
‘Really?’ He dropped the basketball. It rolled away, coming to a rest against the newly painted fence.
‘Don’t you think?’
He’d gone very still. ‘I’m not sure either of us is thinking.’
‘Isn’t it going to happen anyway? Hasn’t it been on the cards for days?’ She angled her head and studied him, half dying inside now with her boldness. He was so silent. Too silent. ‘Do you really want to stop it?’
His hands were on his hips, his biceps flexing. ‘We probably should.’
‘Why?’ She could see his chest rising and falling faster than before. She knew he felt it too.
Angry fingers suddenly gripped her upper arms. ‘Why are you chasing this?’
She flinched. Chasing? Like some infatuated teen stalking her first prey? Shocked, she blurted the truth. ‘I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had a fling. Never had a one night stand. I’ve always been “good”, always watched out for my reputation, always gone out with “safe” guys.’ She’d had a couple of steady boyfriends, then that engagement. She shut her mind to the memory, turned back to the heat of the moment. ‘Just for once I want the freedom to do what I want to do, take what I want, have what I want.’
‘And I’m what you want?’ His jaw was rigid, the strength in his fingers not easing an iota.
She glanced down his body. ‘You’re very fit.’
‘What is it that’s really turning you on? Going with someone outside your select social circle? Someone from the wrong side of the tracks, someone rougher? Is that what I am to you?’
Her senses flared at the word rougher. She could do with some rough right now. ‘I don’t care about your background.’ She didn’t actually care about him—did she? ‘Like I said, you’re just very fit.’ She sighed, frustrated. ‘And every time I see you, you’re half naked. What do you expect? I’m only human.’
A short laugh was shaken from him. ‘So you just want physical, Sophy?’
‘Really physical.’
The breath whistled out between his teeth. She held her breath, frozen as she watched him decide.
‘I don’t do relationships, Sophy.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’
His fingers relaxed but didn’t let her go and his smile returned. ‘This is not going to get out of hand.’
She stepped closer, anticipation