I BARELY MADE it to my office before Michael offloaded an enormous pile of data onto me Wednesday morning. Dread filled my stomach when I saw precisely how much information I had to plough through, so I took a minute to savour my skinny cappuccino before getting started.
My head was thick thanks to the few hours’ sleep I’d managed last night. Fantasy mixed with actual events as the embodiment of everything male, currently residing on the fifteenth floor, took the starring role in my vividly realistic dreams. I’d tossed and turned well until the early hours of this morning. Now, my limbs were weary, as though the explicit scenes that took place whilst asleep had actually happened.
Add to it the shocking orgasm I had in the shower, and it was no surprise I’d barely slept a wink. The fact I masturbated thinking of Blake confused the hell out of me. Why was I thinking of him that way? Intense blue eyes haunted me as skilful hands touched and caressed me. Even recalling the melodious, rhythmic flow of his voice had brought me to an explosive climax.
I managed to put all disruptive thoughts aside and focus on my work. By lunchtime, I was ready for my meeting with Michael. As I passed Mai’s desk on my way to Michael’s office, she held up her hand. “Please hold,” she said into her headset, then pressed a button to silence the caller. Her eyes twinkled. “This one’s for you, K.”
“Can you take a message? I’ll call them back.”
“Think you should take it now,” she smirked. Then she mouthed, “It’s Mr Blake,” and wiggled her eyebrows.
Crap.
I’d half-expected him to get in touch again, but not so soon. I hadn’t recovered from yesterday’s encounter and wasn’t sure I could handle being confronted with him again. “Tell him I’m in a meeting.” I began edging away.
“Too late. Already said you’re here,” Mai called after me, halting me in my tracks. Sighing in resignation, I turned back towards my office.
“You owe me.” I glared at her as she gleefully put the call through.
I let the phone ring a few times whilst I took some calming breaths.
“Are you hungry for me now, Miss Collins?” Blake asked smoothly before I could utter a word. That hint of a whisper in his voice made my stomach flurry wildly. I leant my hip to the desk to keep me steady.
“Dining alone not much fun, Mr Blake?” I teased, recalling my own experience in the shower.
The velvety rasp of his laugh travelled straight through me to the spot at the top of my thighs. “I’m sure you’d agree, it’s so much better when another person is involved.”
My mouth went dry. It was plainly obvious he wasn’t talking about eating either. Blake apparently wasn’t used to rejection and was coming back for another shot. I sipped some water, smiling at his tenacity. “Last time I checked, you were still the boss.”
His sigh was audible. “Listen, I don’t normally do this. In fact, I never do. But, I want to take you to dinner. And to clarify, I’m not actually your boss.”
“Well, actually, you are. You own the company.”
“Well, actually, you’re right. But, we’re all simply people at the end of the day.” There was a slight pause and a hint of humour when he added, “And everybody has to eat sometime.”
Hmm, he would say that. Blake was ruler of his empire, answerable to no one. “I don’t think dinner would be appropriate.”
“So suggest something else instead.”
I breathed a sigh, quietly flattered by his persistence. Obviously someone of his position wasn’t going to give up easily. I recalled the insane way my body reacted to his touch, making the idea of us going to dinner dangerous for my health. I knew it might lead to other things.
“I’m free tomorrow. We could meet for a drink?” I grimaced as the words tumbled freely from my lips, not believing what I was saying.
“Perfect. Be ready at six.” The triumph in his voice increased my annoyance at being so easily won over.
“There’s a wine bar two blocks south, Estrella de Mar. Let’s meet there at six-thirty.” It wouldn’t be wise to meet here where everyone could see. I didn’t want to become the latest office gossip.
After a long minute when I thought he might’ve hung up, Blake quietly warned, “We will happen, Miss Collins.”
A shiver ran through me. I suspected he might be right, judging by how aroused I was.
“WHAT’S he want this time?” Mai demanded when I returned from Michael’s office and found her loitering in mine. Having no interest in my work, I knew she was referring to my earlier telephone call.
“The same as last time—a quick fuck.” I rarely swore aloud unless I was sufficiently outraged about something. Mai found it hilarious to hear. She said it didn’t sound dirty enough coming from a plummy English mouth.
She stifled a snigger. “God, he must really want you. He could easily have someone else satisfy his needs.” Mai pinched two fingers in the air on either hand to emphasise the word.
“I agreed to meet him.”
“What?” she spluttered.
“We’re meeting at Estrella tomorrow for a drink.”
“Finally!” Mai grinned. “You’ve been off the scene way too long.” I gave her a don’t go there look. “I’m not surprised. He could easily handle a hottie like you. And let’s face it, you need a good handling, K,” she insisted. “What changed your mind? You were certain it wasn’t happening yesterday.”
“I still am. The bar is neutral ground. I can make him see sense there without feeling like he has some hold over me here.”
Mai frowned. “How? I know you’re not that strong.”
As usual, Mai was right. I was going to need all my strength to carry this through and escape unscathed tomorrow night. “I’ve told him once, I can do it again.”
“Blake’s exactly what you need. Sleeping with him has gotta give you some confidence back.”
“Maybe.” Admittedly, someone like him wanting me had given my fractured ego a minor boost. Then the hammer of self-doubt slammed it down again, mindful I was merely one of a long line of women and nothing special at all. “But, he’s our boss for God’s sake.”
“Well, he doesn’t care.”
“Why should he? He won’t be trying to climb the career ladder with everyone assuming they’ve slept their way to the top.” I picked up a paper clip and started bending the metal into one crooked line.
“We both know this is nothing to do with that, and everything to do with your past. Go have some hot, steamy fun with the man.” Mai covered my hands with hers. “You deserve some happiness, Kara. It’s time to move on.”
I smiled uncertainly as Mai retreated to the safety of the doorway. “Wear something sexy tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder as she strolled out, “oh, and your raciest underwear.”
BY the time I parked outside my building, I was miserable. My gym workout had done nothing to lift my mood either. I sat in the car, staring at the palm fronds brushing the window of my neighbour’s apartment. At only five storeys high, it was small compared to the newer high-rises surrounding it. There wasn’t a communal pool or garden, but it was the only place I’d lived on my own since arriving here, and I loved it.
Wearily, I climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and let myself in. I placed my keys and glasses on the kitchen counter, and carried my bags the short distance across the open floor plan to the bedroom. I flopped onto the bed, my limbs weighted with memories of heartbreak and deceit. I moved here with hopes of finding myself again, desperate to rediscover who I used to be before my world crashed down around me. Bastard.
After a long, thought cleansing shower where I scrubbed the pain from my skin, I threw on my satin camisole and shorts and had a light bite to eat before selecting my outfit for tomorrow. Having a well-paid job meant I could afford the occasional luxury item and indulge in my passion for vintage accessories. Half of my built-in wardrobe was crammed with clothes I loved but seldom had the nerve to wear; the other housed more conservative tastes that I habitually gravitated towards. That was my ex’s fault, and I hated that I still allowed his perception of my body to influence my choices.
I dug out some unsexy black La Perla underwear. Who was I kidding? My appreciation for nice clothes extended to enjoying wearing good underwear, too. Even my sports bras were pretty. I tossed them back in the drawer and shoved it shut.
I brushed my teeth and climbed into bed with my iPad to check my emails, eagerly opening the message from my father first. With him in England, time zones restricted when we talked. I missed him terribly, especially when I needed a hug, or some words of wisdom only a parent could offer, like now.
When I first informed him I was leaving London, he’d worried, insisting I was emotionally unstable and needed people close to support me. I suspected he also knew I was running away. That made me more determined to prove him wrong. In six weeks, I was returning home for the first time since leaving, when he’d see firsthand I was coping well.
I plumped my pillows and shifted onto my side, preparing for sleep. My thoughts returned to Nate Blake. We would never work. He exuded confidence, was borderline arrogant with it, and oozed raw sexuality. Any self-confidence I once had got shot to pieces years ago.
And I was far from sexy.
Hooking one leg outside the sheet—my favoured sleeping position—I shut my eyes. That impression of command and success, combined with his wealth and good looks, would be a heady aphrodisiac to some. He’d probably found a willing dinner companion, and by now was enjoying dessert.
That disheartening thought weighed heavily on my mind as I gradually drifted off.
AFTER a restless sleep, Thursday dragged forever. I’d spent most of the night awake, regretting my decision to meet Blake. After the failure of my last relationship, I’d made it a rule to never date someone I worked with again, let alone the boss. There were too many complications when it all went wrong. Too many people who knew your business and were all too willing to pass judgement.
A short run in the cool of early morning helped put our meeting into perspective. This wasn’t a date. We’d meet for a drink, I’d politely tell him he was wasting his time pursuing me, and that would be the end of it. Blake might see tonight going differently—drinks, possibly dinner, followed by some hot sex—but that was his problem.
Mai had gone home, but not before imparting some words of wisdom—“do what you want, have some fun.” Then, as she discreetly slipped a packet of condoms in my bag with a wink—“don’t let a hot date become a due date.” I powered down my computer and headed to the bathrooms to freshen up.
I’d decided against an entire outfit change, opting to wear the simple cap-sleeved black shift dress I’d worn for work to maintain a purely business approach to the evening. That was an act of defiance—a subconscious rebellion to my past—to prove I could wear a dress and feel confident about it. Last night I’d felt brave, but now, as I swapped my work shoes for crimson suede peep-toe heels, I was regretting my impulsive decision.
I retouched my make-up, hiding the lack of sleep well with a little concealer, and tidied up my French twist. My berry red lipstick was bold, but not too harsh, and drew out the natural pout of my lips.
I walked to the bar, deciding I needed some air. When I spotted the familiar hedging shielding the bar from the road, my stomach flipped, churning with a mix of nerves and excitement. It was a dangerous blend of emotions. I didn’t want to feel this way about a man—but Nate Blake wasn’t like any other man.
I shyly avoided eye contact with the valet man as I passed and made my way up the path. Exposed red brick walls and dark floorboards complimented the long mahogany bar greeting me when I pushed open the heavy glass doors. Keeping my head down, I squeezed through a group of businessmen crowding the floorspace between me and the quieter lounge area. When I looked up…
…Nate Blake. I wanted to arrive first, but he’d beat me to it.