“You look gorgeous!” Layla was standing back and admiring her handiwork. “Twirl for me?”
I’d gone all out and splurged. I’d bought a copper-coloured dress with a structured top and a swirly skirt. I had a silk scarf with a copper and gold leaf design, a birthday present from my mum from years ago, and I’d bought some pretty gold heels.
I’d scrubbed up, too. My nails were done, my toes matched, and I had asked Layla to do my hair and my eyes. She’d combed, teased and painted, making me look like I’d stepped out of a fashion magazine.
Twirling in front of her, I felt light and happy. Then, remembering that Fitzsimmons’ super rich executives would be bringing eye-candy girls and trophy wives, I felt that awful doubt creep over me again.
“Oh Layla! I should have gone on a crash diet weeks ago!”
“Nonsense. You look beautiful.” My best friend turned to her husband. “Paul, we need a manly eye.”
Paul was on the sofa with the boys, watching The Reluctant Dragon, one of their favourites, “Give us a look, love.” As I twirled again, he grinned. “Oh yeah! Better than Dakota Johnson!”
“Right! I’m sexy like a Hollywood film star. Come on, Paul, be serious.”
“I am serious,” Paul said surprised. “You’re totally lickable.”
“Ewww, but thanks!”
But Paul knew I didn’t believe him. “Emma, love, men lust over skinny women in lad mags, but when it comes to who we want to be with in real life, we look for more.”
“More flab?”
“Women obsess about looks, but men don’t,” Paul maintained. “Most of us want a proper handful, not a skeleton. But what really matters is that we want someone who’s fun to be with, someone nice and most of all, someone we can talk to.”
You know, the man has a point, my inner me scolded.
I just stared at him. “Really?”
“Sure. Layla is beautiful, but I fell in love with her because she makes me happy.”
Okay, so that was a reality check.
“Mummy makes me happy,” Ben announced. “I’m going to marry her when I grow up.”
“I’m marrying my mummy, too,” Will said. “And my dad.”
“Good job, both of you,” Paul said promptly. “It’ll be a group effort.” He put his arms around his boy and mine, and turned back to the TV asking, “Now, do you think this Reluctant Dragon will eat the prince and marry a princess?”
“Don’t you dare get sentimental now.” Layla was reading my mind. “You’ll smudge.”
“I’m just thinking how lucky I am to have all of you.”
“Good. Now go out and snag yourself that delicious man you’re lusting over.” Layla was happy, too. “I want to add him to our marriage pact.”
“I can hear you!” Paul called out.
“It was a lie,” Layla giggled instantly. “I only want my own wonderful Paul!”
And that’s what I wanted, too. A sweet, loving man with a sense of humour.
And knicker-dampening beauty. A hot body, too.
I guess deep inside we all have a little shallow lust.
“Curtis asked you out, so he likes you,” Layla said quietly.
“I’m pretty sure he does,” I sank to a whisper. “But I’m not exactly what he thinks, am I?”
“Sure you are!”
“I’m not a whiz from the Royal Bank or a rabid career woman.”
“You’re great at your job, and at the time he asked you, you were off men.”
“Well, off him. Because he annoyed me.”
“That counts. You told him the exact truth.” Layla was pushing my bag into my hands and spraying me with scent. Anaïs Anaïs, deliciously flowery and fruity. “Anyway, one look at you and he won’t give a damn about details. All he’ll be focused on is how to get you.”
“Oh lord, I hope so!”
At that, my phone beeped. Curtis had insisted on picking me up, and now he was down the road, at my cottage.
“Good,” Layla said. “Nice old-fashioned manners.”
I got a last hug from Ben, a “lickable” from Paul, and then I was out the door.
“And remember, Ben’s staying the night.” Layla’s comment floated down the garden path. “You can be a dirty stop out!”
I was still pink with embarrassment and laughing when I got to the G-Wagon. Curtis was leaning up against it, looking rather lickable himself in black trousers and a tobacco-coloured shirt that matched his eyes.
Swoon! Let’s ditch the party and drag him to bed.
“Have you been waiting long?” I sounded a little breathless, I think.
“No, not at all.”
He looked casual, but the trousers were exquisitely tailored, and the shirt was silk. That scent, warm leather with a hint of orange, floated around him.
“You look beautiful.” Curtis embraced me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. A peck, dammit. Perfectly proper and polite.
“So do you.” Not the best opening, but Curtis was twitching nervously. When I put a hand on his arm, I could feel him shake. My heart went out to him. “They already love your pagoda,” I reassured him. “All they want is a tiny bit of wooing. You’re very good at that.”
The hazel eyes warmed. “Really? I feel like I’m about to go bungee jumping. Without the cord.”
“Sales is about passion and you have oodles of that.” I put an arm around his waist, giving him a comforting hug. “You’re going to knock them dead.”
“Oh dear God, I hope so!”
And then he was kissing me. Soft lips on mine, hungry and sweet, just like the night before. I leaned into him, closing my eyes and sinking into the gentle passion of it. His arms cinched around me, pulling me against him. We were in our own cocoon of warmth and delight.
“Oh for goodness’ sake!” An old biddy at the end of a pug was giving us the evil eye. “Get a room, you two.”
It killed the moment but not the mood. Curtis was laughing, “Absolutely! I was about to suggest that very same thing.”
Whoohoo! Yes!
But I was that unbecoming beetroot again.
“She’s right.” Curtis was unflappable. “Come on, let’s go. I want to show you off.”
“I thought we were selling the pagoda.”
“Suddenly that seems less important.”
That shut me up. Now it was me who was wracked with nerves. Was he serious? Layla’s teasing cry about being a dirty stop out echoed in my mind. If he asked, would I? After all my lechery, I suddenly realised that I hadn’t been near a man in seven years. What if I said yes and it ended in tears? It would mean being unemployed again, too, and there was Ben to think of.
Stop worrying. It will be fine!
But surrounded by leather, walnut, and luxury, my cheerleading sounded hollow.
Luckily we were soon pulling up in front of the Old Bank. Just the sight of the old hotel banished my worries.
“Oh, it’s lovely!” I hadn’t been downtown at night in years, so the lights and beautifully dressed people milling around felt as festive as Christmas.
We were greeted at the door like royalty and taken to the Gallery, a private room. In a word, it was glorious. The first thing that caught my eye was the modern art on the walls. There were also the most heavenly scents: good food and good wine. Also, as I’d expected, the room was filled with beautiful people, and they were all dressed to the nines.
Oh lord, it’s like a film set. Is this really us?
“I love it,” I breathed. Curtis was smiling, but I knew him well enough to see the strain around his eyes. “You’re going to be brilliant,” I whispered.
“Curtis.” A portly man in a dark suit and bow tie came rushing over. “Lovely to see you!”
Theodore Burrell, CEO of Fitzsimmons. I recognised him from the newspapers.
“Hello,” Curtis sounded cool and relaxed, but I could feel the tension coming from him. “Emma, this is... I don’t think you’ve met?” And then he froze. I knew Curtis had blanked on the name. He looked perfectly okay, but I could feel the panic emanate from him.
“Not yet, although we’ve talked on the phone.” I stepped up. “Mr Burrell, I’ve so looked forward to finally meeting you.” I put out my hand. “Emma Reed.”
“Oh yes. Finally we meet!”
We exchanged the usual niceties, “love your dress” and “love the bow tie”, and then Curtis was back on track.
“Theodore, what a terrific place for a party. Love the Georgian alcoves. Your choice, I think?” and when the food magnate smiled and deprecated, thoroughly charmed, Curtis was cruising along, “I thought so. Inspired!”
I must say, Curtis had asked me along to support him, but after that initial panic, all I had to do was smile as he introduced me around. And what a gathering! Within minutes I met three Sirs, one Dame, two London billionaires, and an actress from Midsomer Murders.
I’d been expecting beautiful people, but this was way beyond my wildest dreams. I don’t think there was a person there who wasn’t front-page news at least once a week.
It was a bit intimidating at first, but Curtis handed me a large glass of the most sumptuous Rioja and luckily the Daily Mail was wrong: the rich and shameless are totally sweet when you meet them in person.
We’d just finished chatting to a real baroness who looked like Maggie Smith when Theodore Burrell stopped by. “Curtis, join me in a moment? I have someone I want you to meet.”
“Sure,” Curtis said.
Crunch time. I could feel Curtis steel himself, but everyone else probably saw the successful billionaire about to float off and casually seal another world-class deal. For a split second, the crowd swayed around us and left us standing in a tiny bubble.
“I won’t say good luck because you’ve already got it,” I whispered.
I got a flashing grin. “I might freeze again. Rescue me if I raise my glass in your direction?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Dear Emma.” And then he was off.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” To my surprise Caitie was at my elbow. She was frowning. “How come you’re here? I thought you were applying for the office manager job.”
Ooooh, she’s jealous!
She was definitely miffed, or hurt, I thought, so I spoke nicely. “Curtis asked me to come along tonight. For moral support.”
“Really?” Caitie snapped. “Bit inappropriate, isn’t it?”
I tried to turn the other cheek. Really. “Lovely to see you again.”
But Caitie was looking me over in a malicious way. “Interesting dress.”
Okay, interesting meaning cheap. So it was war. “Thanks. Are you waitressing here?”
Her eyes flamed. “I’m here with Victor Blythe. I work for him now.”
The bitch! He’s an exec at Fitzsimmons—the one Curtis took to the Ivy.
Suddenly I realised that Caitie’s reason for leaving had nothing to do with looking after her sister’s baby. She had simply taken a new job and lied to avoid working out her notice.
I looked over at Curtis and saw him talking earnestly to three burly-looking men. Those must be Theodore’s “financial johnnies”. They looked harder than the Mafia, but from the way they were nodding, Curtis was charming them nicely.
Just at that he glanced my way and grinned. As one, the three moneymen turned and looked, too. I got friendly smiles and a discreet thumbs-up from Curtis. Then they all went back to their chat.
Relief flooded through me. It was going to be okay. I could see they were all on his side. Curtis would get to build his dream pagoda. Just the thought of it made me feel like dancing.
“I wouldn’t bother,” Caitie was pure venom. “Curtis is a cold fish. He only thinks about two things, Curtis Weston and Curtis Weston.”
“Rubbish. You walked out with no notice, and he didn’t even pull you up on it. Instead of badmouthing him, you should be grateful.”
“Grateful?” Caitie snarled, and suddenly she wasn’t Arven Evenstar, the Elven Ring-bearer, but Gollum, pure sneering nastiness. “I worked myself to death for him, and was he grateful?”
“Nonsense. You did nine to five like everyone else.” I was still keeping an eye on Curtis, but he was definitely fine. Sam had turned up, Theodore Burrell was there, too, and they were all nodding and raising their glasses. Curtis looked my way again, and from the happy grin he’d sealed the deal.
“He’s practically illiterate, you know.” Caitie was looking over at Curtis and sniping. “He can’t even write his own email.”
Bitch!
Caitie putting the boot in made me see red. I was holding my glass so tightly that it was a miracle it didn’t splinter. While I was tempted to bash her perfectly-shaped little nose, I controlled myself.
“Oh, I'm sorry.” I was purring with evil. “Did he turn you down?”
From the way she hissed, I’d hit the spot.
“Like he wants you,” Caitie sneered. “He must have hired a truck to get you here. A heavy-duty one.”
I gave it to her straight. “You can bitch all you like, but it only highlights the fact that you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” she squawked.
“Absolutely. You have a pretty face, but it’s hardly inspiring. As for your reputation, when I put your name into a text, it auto-corrects to bitch.”
At that, Caitie went white, but I was too angry to stop.
“Curtis, on the other hand, has talent. His work makes the world a more beautiful place. Not only will he leave a legacy that will keep his name green for centuries, but he’s also a good boss, as well as a kind and generous man.”
I must have raised my voice because at that point I realised the people around us were eavesdropping with unconcealed glee. For a moment the room swam around me, and then Curtis was standing next to me, grinning like a maniac and announcing, “My heroine!”
Then he gave Caitie a freezing look. “Looking after your little niece?”
Caitie stood poleaxed and turning a very unbecoming beetroot. “I did visit,” she muttered.
Curtis sneered. “You’re such a liar, Caitie. Disloyal, too. Not good qualities in a PA.”
“Well said!” Sam said loudly.
“But speaking of legacies,” Theodore Burrell was raising his glass. “I’d like to announce that Curtis will be designing our new headquarters. A pagoda complete with floating roofs guarded by dragons, as well as thoroughly English unicorns and lions!”
There was a ripple of laughter at this.
“In addition, we’re proud to say it will be a prime example of Green Architecture, with a solar panel roof, energy efficient systems, and ethically sourced materials.”
By the time they’d stopped cheering, Caitie had stomped off. I don’t think anyone noticed, though, because Curtis was the man of the moment. He was swamped with admirers, all wanting to know about his pagoda.
“Well done,” the Midsomer Murder actress was at my shoulder. “That ex-PA of his is poison, isn’t she?” She gave me a happy smile. “Lovely takedown. Mind if I use it one day?”
“Be my guest.” But despite my light tone, I was a bit worried. “I lost my temper. Maybe I shouldn’t have said it.”
“Not at all. Short, sweet, and totally lethal. We all loved it.” She glanced over at Curtis. “He really is awfully good-looking, isn’t he?”
Crap. Every woman here would give her eyeteeth to have our man!
I didn’t stand a chance.
I made an excuse and ran off to the loo. Thankfully it was deserted. I got myself together. “Be happy for him,” I told mirror-me sternly. “And he did kiss you, so maybe all is not lost.”
I talked hard, but to be honest, I had that awful sinking feeling.
Okay, chin up! Deep breath!
That had me almost spilling out of my dress.
Okay, not so deep.
And that’s why I was giggling as I stepped out into the corridor.
“Emma.” Curtis was in the corridor, beaming at me. “I wondered where you’d gotten to.” He pulled me into his arms, and all my worries fled. “God, you’re wonderful!”
At his touch, I was lost. “Emma!” His lips captured mine, his tongue sweeping sweetly.
I hung on to the strong shoulders, my knees turning to water as I kissed him back. The tall, lean frame was hard against me. We were so close that I could feel the hard muscles flex under the soft silk shirt. He was solid, too. This man wanted me as much as I wanted him. The knowledge made me breathless.
His hands were sliding over my waist, then over my bottom, pulling me closer and into a deeper kiss. His scent, rich and masculine, was swirling around me as his hands explored freely. Each little rub, each little touch, was driving my lust, whipping warmth into heat and heat into flame. I could hear myself growl with appreciation.
“We need some privacy.” I was gasping, my breath escaping in excited little puffs as he whisked me down the corridor into a quiet little alcove. “That’s better.” And then we went right back to it.
His lips were on my neck, his tongue flickering down the soft skin there, setting a raft of goose pimples down my body that puckered my nipples and kick-started a solid throbbing in my knickers.
His body was heating, his scent warming as he writhed against me. I could feel him shiver with passion. His breath was shallow, his hands now running over my front, gently moulding my throbbing breasts.
I was seconds away from melting on the spot. I was sucking in air, my breath ragged as excitement drove me. My hands were up, fingering the short hair as I hung onto him, gasping as my body pulsed.
“Dear God, you’re so beautiful!” His eyes were fierce, half shut in want as he held me against him. “Your scent, that soft, creamy skin. You’re intoxicating!”
He dipped his head and nuzzled, his lips warm on my skin. Kissing leisurely, he cupped the weight of my breasts, his thumbs tantalising my tingling flesh. The shivers of delight rippled through me, merging and coalescing, building into waves of bliss.
All my doubts fled.
We’re going to be perfect together.
Sweet passion, his hands strong yet tender, his breath hurried as he took his time. Our bodies would dance together, blending in form and time, pulsing together in harmony as we soared into delicious, shattering ecstasy.
I clung to him, dissolving as sweet anticipation flooded through me. Love saturated my spirit, driving me to into paradise. I was drowning in sensation, aware only of his touch, his scent, and his eyes. My body was floating, totally focused on its own pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful!” His hands were hard on my back, his hazel eyes filled with the fire of desire. “Emma, I want you!”
It was heaven on earth. I was throbbing for him, already his in body and soul.
“Curtis, I was wondering—”
Hell! It’s utterly bloody Theodore Burrell! Go awaaaaaaay!
He was lumbering down the corridor, mind entirely on business, sending heaven crashing around our ears. “Could you come and—oh!”
Curtis had whipped around, sheltering me with his body. I knew I must look a right sight: hair up on end, dress askew and probably scarlet with frustrated lust.
“Right, erm…” Theodore was getting an eyeful and by the way he was grinning, he was clearly enjoying it to the max. “I can see I’m interrupting.”
“Yes, you are,” Curtis snapped.
“Right.” Theodore was clearly pixelated. “Gosh, wish I had an Emma.”
At that Curtis was laughing. “Who wouldn’t?”
I was rapidly adjusting my dress. “I’m standing right here, you know.”
Curtis put an arm around me and settled me against him. “And there’s my cool, calm, and collected Emma.” The love in his voice was patent.
“We were thinking that if you could come in tomorrow, early, and sign a preliminary agreement,” Theodore was droning on, talking business and making remarkable sense, even though he was clearly sloshed. Amazing really. I guess that’s what being an exec it all about; being able to hold it together while wellied.
“Yes,” Curtis said, stemming the flow of words. “I’ll be there.”
“Right, you want to get back to Emma.”
Theodore was eyeing me again, lustfully. It’s supposed to make you feel bad, but to be ogled at a party when all the women are way hotter than yourself is a tonic. Sue me if you like, but that’s how I felt.
“Yes, my miracle woman.” Curtis was grinning, totally happy. “Competent, no fuss, and honest as the day is long.”
Oh crap.
Ignore that! He likes us!
“Lovely,” Theodore sighed. “I just discovered my CFO has a fake degree.”
“My staff are the same. Thankfully Emma’s different.”
Oh hell. No, no, no!
I wanted to speak, honestly, I did. But with an audience, I couldn’t. Shame was flooding over me.
“Emma’s straight as a die,” Curtis was boasting.
That’s when I heard myself gasp. “Excuse me.” And then, to my eternal shame, I fled.