CHAPTER SIX
THE DAY RAN AWAY from her.
A server in California crashed taking with it a heap of online stores and notably, their news distribution networks for half of the world. Ivy was more technically responsible for interface development and appropriate content distribution but ultimately, when things went wrong, it was all hands on deck.
The first half of the day was spent on complex international calls, strong-arming her teams into proactively problem solving. The latter part required elaborate work-arounds that would take pressure off the server while it was fixed and still provide access to the news app, at least. All with Margerite popping her head around Ivy’s door every few minutes, hands rubbing together frantically, demanding to know ‘what was happening’, leaving Ivy with a pounding headache and a sense that she was never going to get through the day.
It was after nine before the server was brought back online and even then, user log-ins had been lost somewhere and tech teams were working around the clock to retrieve them.
In short, it was a disaster and the obsessive thoughts that had been stirring her mind from the second she’d woken up until she’d arrived at work had been plunged into darkness. There had actually been moments throughout the day when she’d forgotten all about her plans to see Rafe again.
She grimaced as she pulled her phone out of her bag. There was no message from him. Nothing.
Her frown was laced with uncertainty.
Did that mean something?
Did he no longer want her to go by his place?
Had he lost interest already?
With a small groan, she tapped out a text message. Work was manic. Too late to catch up? She sent the message, grimacing at the pathetic euphemism, hating the insecurities that were now scored deep into her flesh.
His response came through a moment later.
I heard about the server issue. Never too late.
Oh. Of course he’d heard. It was his company that had been affected by the disaster. Maybe others of his companies had suffered similarly.
Okay. See you soon.
His response was immediate. My driver is waiting.
Her smile was flooded with disbelief. And relief. She yawned as she stood, slipping her sleeves into her jacket and flicking off the lights to her office.
True to his word, the same driver who’d conveyed her the night before, and who’d taken them to his apartment from the casino the night they’d met, was waiting for her at the bottom of the building.
“Miss Hennessey,” he said, opening the back door to the sleek black car. It was a Bugatti, she’d gleaned on the previous trip, and she knew enough to know that they were incredibly elite and expensive.
As if the luxurious leather interior wouldn’t have given that away. With its soft white seats and screens in-laid into the sides of the doors. She nestled herself in the corner, her eyes heavy, anticipation curling through her.
“Miss Hennessey?”
She blinked, disorientated. Had she fallen asleep?
“We’re here.”
“Oh,” she murmured groggily, blinking rapidly.
The driver opened the door wider and Ivy stepped out, her eyes scanning the secure elevator doors. The driver waved something over them and pressed a button, then stepped out, allowing Ivy to ride to Rafe’s apartment in solitude.
“You look exhausted,” he murmured as soon as she stepped into the apartment.
“Gee, thanks.”
He, on the other hand, looked outrageously, impossibly good. His suit was a charcoal grey, the shirt a crisp white, and it had been unbuttoned at the throat to reveal the dark column of his neck. He was so sexy.
“Big day?”
“Oh, you know, just the end to the world as we know it. Albeit temporarily.”
“No big deal then?”
She grinned. “Nope.”
Her stomach gave a lurch and she remembered that she hadn’t eaten all day at the same moment an incredible aroma reached her. “What’s that smell?”
“Dinner.”
“Dinner?” Her stomach twisted. She was starving. But dinner… dinner was dangerous, wasn’t it?
“You know, that meal people tend to have at the end of the day?”
She sent him a look of droll amusement. “I am familiar with the concept.”
But gratitude throbbed in her, winning out over her need to keep firm boundaries in place. “Thank you for that. I didn’t stop for lunch.”
She walked deeper in the apartment and his hands wrapped around her shoulders, reminding her of the night before, when he’d grabbed her and kissed her like she was his only hope of survival. He pushed her coat gently down her arms, removing it deftly and tossing it over the back of a chair.
The table was set, take-away containers lined up, two bowls, and a bottle of wine.
“Been slaving over a hot stove?” She teased, peering into the tubs of Chinese food with relief.
“Oh, yeah. Apron and all.” He held her chair out for her and she flicked her gaze towards him. His smile was impossible to read. It was as enigmatic as a male version of the Mona Lisa’s.
“Now, that I’d like to see.”
He laughed. “One day.”
One day spoke of the future. One day was a lie. She changed the subject quickly. “Were any of your other businesses affected by the outage today?”
“Yes.” He took the seat opposite, his feet brushing hers beneath the table. Desire warred with hunger.
“So your day was even worse than mine?”
He poured two glasses of wine and leaned back in his chair. “It’s looking up now.”
Colour bloomed in her cheeks. “I’m glad.” And she was. Contentment spread through her like warm honey.
“It was bedlam. We finally got most things restored, but it took hours and hours. I have no idea what could cause such a wide-spread disaster…”
“A fan stopped working,” he said, sipping his wine, watching as she scooped fried rice and sweet and sour pork out onto her plate. “It caused a block of servers to overheat. Just a small but crucial part that triggered a melt-down across the board. Usually load-sharing kicks in but it didn’t, so technicians had to get in and manually move the pieces around. Or so I’m told.” He shrugged. “I’m sure you know more about it than I do.”
“Not really,” she said with a shrug. “That side of things isn’t my forte.”
“What is your forte?” He prompted curiously.
Her eyes lifted to his. “This is running dangerously close to a job interview.”
“You already work for me,” he pointed out with a wink.
“Ah, true.” She lifted some pork into her mouth, closing her eyes in appreciation as the piquant flavours filled her. “I’m good at software,” she said thoughtfully. “And spotting trends. Working out what technology is emerging as a consumer favourite and capitalising on that. Margerite was dead-set against a dedicated news app, but it’s now got the highest hit and read rate across any of our platforms.”
“I see,” he murmured.
Guilty and misplaced loyalty swarmed in her. “I don’t mean to make it sound like Margerite is inept. Just … a bit of a luddite.”
He laughed softly. “Is that any different in this day and age?”
“She’s not into tech,” Ivy said, choosing her words carefully. “In fact, if she had to run the tech division of GBRTV you probably would have paid a tenth of the purchase price.”
He arched a brow, a smile twitching on his lips. Ivy crossed one leg over the other, her mind deep in thought.
“But what Margerite is good at is people. She promoted the hell out of me. I’m twenty-four, that’s at least ten years younger than any of the other management heads. She copped huge flack for choosing me over other more experienced candidates.”
“So why did she?”
“Because I’m great at what I do.” She said truthfully. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging, but I live and breathe apps and news and I just love that stuff.” She spoke in a way that was completely without vanity. He admired that. Her honesty, too, where some people might have hidden their skillset for fear of seeming to big-note themselves. “What Margerite does well is find the right person for the job. Then she drives them a little bit crazy once they take it,” she joked.
“Crazy how?” He prompted, curiously.
And a warning flashed in her mind. It was so easy to forget herself when around him, but this man had just acquired the company at which she worked. The last thing she wanted to do was pillow talk someone out of a job.
“Oh, well, you know,” Ivy shook her head. “I think we need… a rule about this stuff.”
“A rule?” He arched his brows enquiringly.
“Yeah, a rule. Sort of like a privilege rule, that what we talk about here doesn’t affect what happens out there.” She nodded vaguely towards the window, indicating the broader contexts of their lives.
“I bought the station because of its potential, not its performance. Changes are inevitable.”
She nodded, myriad questions firing through her brain.
“What is it?” He asked after a moment.
“What’s what?” She ate another piece of pork.
“You look puzzled.”
Her smile was instinctive. “Yeah. What else do you own?”
He sipped his wine. “Other businesses, you mean?”
“No. Shoes.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that reminds me. I forgot your shirt.”
“Keep it,” he shrugged. “Wear it. I like to think of it on your skin.”
A shiver of anticipation danced down her body. How did he know just what to say for maximum sexiness at any given time? “I’ll bring it another time.”
His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
“So?” She reached for a spring roll, crunching down on it appreciatively.
“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”
“Sure,” she shrugged, knowing she had nothing to hide. In any event, her life was pretty darned droll. “But I asked first.”
“I own various corporate enterprises. But by far my favourite investment is the least profitable.”
She was quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“I have a winery in Spain. Near my home. The vines run from the side of a mountain all the way to the sea, making for a dramatic contrast in grape flavour. I don’t produce a lot, and most of what I do I sell in-house to my own businesses.”
“Mmm,” she smiled, as an image of Rafe in dusty jeans and a white singlet came to her from nowhere. “I like the idea of you tending vines, getting all sweaty and dusty.”
“Me too.” He grimaced. “That’s not really what I do though.”
“What a shame,” she murmured. “You’d suit it.”
“Perhaps. My turn.”
“Sure,” she nodded. “Ask away.”
“I frightened you last night?”
She froze, midway through lifting the spring roll back to her mouth. “When?”
“Tying you up?”
“Oh.” She pulled a face and shook her head. “No. Not even a bit.”
“You were in such a hurry to leave…”
Her heart turned over in her chest and when she spoke, it was with words that were roughened by desire. “Believe me, I enjoyed every moment of what we did last night.”
His eyes probed hers, his expression serious, until finally he nodded. “I get the feeling you don’t have a lot of experience,” he said the words gently, but embarrassment curdled her gut. And yet, what was the shame in that? It was true.
“Is that your way of saying I’m bad in bed?” She asked, the question a croak.
“God, no. Surely you can tell you drive me crazy?”
“Me, or my inexperience?”
“You. And your innocence,” he admitted softly, gently.
“I’m not innocent.” For some reason, the word infuriated her, and yet she knew he was right. She and Steve had slept together, but it had been the most perfunctory and unexciting love-making. There was so much she didn’t know; so much she had to learn. In many ways, she was as innocent as a virgin, and as inexperienced.
She crunched onto the spring roll now, her mind ticking. “You’re not wrong,” she conceded finally, reluctantly. “Steve’s the only other guy I’ve been with.” He hadn’t directly asked, but for some reason she found herself wanting to confide in him. “We got together in high school and we’ve been together ever since. Well. Until seven months ago.”
If Rafe was surprised by this, he took great pains to conceal it. “You still have a picture of him at your desk.”
“I like the picture,” she shrugged, looking away, hoping she could conceal the depths of her emotions if she took great care. “We were together a long time. If I got rid of every photo of us then I’d be wiping out a huge chunk of my life. I’m not ready to do that.”
Silence swirled around them.
“And I liked the tying up,” she returned to his original question. “Though I had no idea underwear could be used in such a way.”
His smile was hard to analyse.
“So what are you going to do to GBRTV?”
“Privilege rule?” He prompted, spearing a piece of eggplant and eating it thoughtfully.
“Yeah, of course. Consider this a cone of silence.”
“Well, I’ve been very impressed with the online developments the company’s taken in recent years. Especially during the past year. And that’s under your leadership?”
Her cheeks glowed pink with the effect of his praise. “We’re a big company,” she reminded him. “I’m responsible for only one team.”
“Yes, but Margerite took great pains to point out your singular obsession with diversifying online.”
“I can just imagine,” Ivy rolled her eyes.
“She doesn’t seem to realise that your input has helped keep the company profitable.”
“If you’re trying to flatter me into bed, you should know, you’re already there.”
He laughed. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, but believe me, when it comes to matters of business, meaningless flattery isn’t something I engage in.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes. Yes, she could see that there was a hardness about Rafe. Hadn’t she known that from the beginning of their relationship? Hadn’t she felt his implacable, alpha-masculinity? Yes. And she’d loved it. “I do believe you.”
“Things will change at GBRTV. Redundancies. Re-training. Is that going to be awkward for you?”
“Yes.” Her eyes were wide. “These people are my friends. But if you’re asking if it’s going to be more awkward for me because we’ve slept together, then I think I can compartmentalise the two facts.”
“Good.” He reached across the table, curling his hand over hers.
“How long are you in England for?” The question blurted out without her consent and she regretted it instantly. She had been going for low-key, casual lovers, and instead she’d asked possibly the neediest thing, just slightly better than, ‘what are your thoughts on marriage?’.
“I was supposed to fly back Monday, after the takeover meeting.”
She blinked at him. “But you’re still here.”
“True.”
“Why?”
His smile set fireworks going in her gut. “I found I had reasons for staying.”
A strange hope, at odds with her insistence that this was just about fantastic sex, made her heart soar. But she fought that hope.
It was false hope, based on a lie. Just like Steve had lied about everything. That’s what men did.
And Ivy wouldn’t be stupid and gullible again.
She needed to keep it real. That was the key to not being hurt. Accept the limitations of any relationship and then feel nothing when those limitations were upheld.
She stood slowly, and moved around the table. He turned in his chair, meeting her as she straddled him where he sat. She’d chosen her outfit wisely. A floaty dress that gave plenty of leg movement.
“Take me to bed,” she murmured.
Sex. That’s what they were.
“I intend to.” A throaty promise as his eyes locked with hers. She could feel the proof of his desire throbbing between her legs; her stomach churned and her veins were networks carrying high-speed blood, pulsing it through her body so her skin was pink.
“Or take me here,” she amended, hungry for him now.
He captured her face, a palm on either side, and stared at her as though she was his world. Is this how it always was with him? Out of nowhere she imagined the broken-hearted women who must litter his past. The women who had been seduced by him and then hoped for more. The ones who hadn’t yet realised that love is a lie, and hope a profound sense of insanity.
“So you can run off again? Oh no, Miss Hennessey. I know your tricks now.” His kiss was slow and sensual. Perfect. She felt her body tilting towards him and her breath burning her lungs as feelings swirled through her. He stood, dislodging her, but it was only seconds before he swooped down and lifted her easily, cradling her against his strong, broad chest. He carried her down a corridor she hadn’t even known existed, or if she had, perhaps she’s presumed it to be storage. Room upon room came off the corridor, and at the end, he eased her to standing. “Clothes off.” A gruff order.
She frowned but did as he suggested, slipping the dress down her body while keeping her eyes locked to him.
He made a low throb of noise and then spun, stalking into a room. With a curious frown she followed, just in time to see him straightening. The sound of gushing water filled her ears.
He was in the middle of a bathroom, beautiful and grand, with tiles that covered the floor and ran up the walls, and a spa that surely almost qualified as a swimming pool in the middle. The view of London revealed by enormous windows on one wall showed twinkling lights and the London eye directly across.
“This is beautiful.”
He nodded towards the bath in response. “In.”
Ivy pouted. “I want you.”
“Yeah. Believe me, that’s something we have in common. In.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “This is your whole hell-bent-on-global-domination thing? I’m not intimidated by you.”
He spoke softly, earnestly. “This is my ‘you’ve had a long day at work and I want you to unwind’ thing. I have no plans to intimidate you.”
“Oh.” And it was so sweet that she found herself unclipping her bra and sliding her underpants down quickly before stepping into the spa. The lights glistened in the window and staring out at them, with the sound of running water, was so meditative that she didn’t immediately realise Rafe had left the room.
He returned moments later, naked, a tray in hand.
“So far as butlers go, you make a great CEO,” she joked, her smile lighting up her face in a way he found breathtaking.
“You haven’t seen the tray yet,” he said with mock offence. He nestled it easily on the edge of the bath and her heart turned over. A box of Charbonnel et Walker truffles with two ice cold flutes of champagne and a scented candle pretty much ticked off every item on her ‘must have’ list.
“On second thoughts,” she said seriously, “You’re an excellent butler, and I particularly like the dress code.”
“I aim to please.”
“And you succeed.” She winked at him, and her heart soared higher when he climbed into the spa and took a seat opposite her. He reached for her foot, placing it between his legs, and began to rub her tired soles as the water swirled high around them.
She reached for her champagne and in that moment she had the sense that she had actually landed in heaven. Everything was just perfect. Seven months ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible that she could spend a night without pining for Steve. Certainly not that she could desire another man. And yet, here she was, happy. Happy again, without reference to her ex.
Even knowing it was temporary didn’t alter that.
“You’re very good at this,” she murmured, not sure if she meant the foot rub or the seduction.
“You’ve had a tough day,” he said with a shrug.
“So have you.”
His smile was a flicker. “I’m used to them.”
“You think I’m not?”
He shook his head. “No. I didn’t mean that.”
She arched a brow. “Good. Because that would be a pretty sexist thing to say…”
His laugh was rich. “I over-see twelve multi-billion pound companies. I have many days that are on a par with this. I meant only that in your role, it is probably not as dire as today often. Besides,” he said softly. “I want you completely relaxed before we go to bed.”
Desire slammed into her. His hands on her feet, the water swishing around them, the knowledge that he was naked; it was a potent combination.
She looked at him, and didn’t feel even a hint of shyness. How comfortable she was with Rafe was unusual, and yet she’d felt that for him since the first night they’d met. Almost as though they had known one another before. Yet, she knew very little about him, really, and suddenly, Ivy didn’t want that to be the case. “Did you go to school here?”
He nodded. “Undergraduate at Oxford. My second degree in the States.”
“Hence why you speak pretty flawless English.”
“My grandmother was English; she raised me. I heard as much English as I did Spanish.”
“Why did she raise you?”
“My parents were … busy.” He said it in a way that didn’t invite questions.
She asked, anyway, not wanting him to be the one to erect barriers between them – that was her job. “Yeah? Busy doing what?”
He smiled, but it was a tight smile. “Other stuff.”
“Such as?” She continued, withdrawing her foot and swimming over to him, in the tub that was now almost full. “And do we need to switch this off?”
“No, I’ve set the volume.”
“What?”
“You pre-program it. The taps shut off when the censors tell them to.”
“Holy Heck, that’s one high tech bath. Any chance of electrocution?”
He laughed. “No more than usual.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She lifted a hand to his chest, tracing circles with her fingertips. “You were saying?”
“Was I?”
“Your parents were in the same line of work as you?”
He expelled a breath, but when Ivy spun around, curling up between his legs, pressing her back to his chest, her head into the crook formed by his neck, he felt a connection that defied sense. “My mother inherited the family business. She comes from one of Spain’s wealthiest families. She loved being an heiress and adored being a wife, but she had no interest in running the businesses. My father had no money but a lot of smarts. They were a formidable team.”
“Were?” She prompted, her voice thick, bracing for grief.
“He died when I was eighteen. My mother’s interest in business hadn’t grown over the years. It was an obvious choice for me to take over.”
“But you were studying?”
“The business is such that I was able to take an interest in operations regardless of my studies. I had excellent management teams.”
“That must have been a busy time.”
“It was life,” he said simply, and his hands ran up and down her exposed legs distractedly. Ivy reached for his champagne, flipping in the water as a fish out of water, and held the glass to his lips. His eyes locked with hers and a strong lurching sensation jolted her.
Ignore it.
This is just sex. Not romance. Despite the chocolates and champagne, the bath and the secrets, they were nothing more than two people who desired one another. And she was okay with that; wasn’t she?
*
Ivy stretched languidly in the enormous bed, her eyes moving heavily to the alarm clock.
“It’s late,” she said groggily. “I should go.”
“Should you?” He murmured, his fingers running over her long, dark hair.
She stifled a yawn. “Mmm, I have to be in early. The technical problems.”
“Where’s home?”
“Hammersmith.” Her eyes drifted shut and he studied her for a moment. Another yawn. “We bought a place there a few years back.”
“We?” Though he knew.
“Steve and me.” She sighed. “I have to go.”
“Stay,” he murmured quietly, a frown on his handsome face that she didn’t see.
“No.”
“My place is much closer to your work,” he pointed out logically.
“But my clothes are so much closer to my home.” She yawned once more but this time it seemed to jolt her eyes open. She lanced him, first with her stare and then with a sleepy smile. She moved quickly then, as if the thirty second cat-nap had revived her completely.
“Thanks for tonight, Rafe. It was great.”
And when she left, it was with a smile on her face, and a determination that she felt nothing in her heart. Just the way she wanted it.