The End of Faking It

His smile suddenly flashed brighter—like how the flame flared on a gas hob when you accidentally twisted the knob the wrong way. His hand lifted and he brushed her lips with a finger. She shivered.

Shock. She was in shock. That was the problem. That was why she wasn’t resisting….

His expression heated up all the more. ‘You okay?’

‘Mmm.’

His traversing finger muffled the words she couldn’t speak anyway. She was too busy pressing her lips firmly together to stop herself from opening up and inviting him in. But somehow he got that invite anyway because he lifted his finger and swiftly replaced it with his mouth.

Oh.

It was light. A warm, gentle, coaxing kiss that promised so much more than it gave. But what it did give was good. He moved closer, not threatening, but with a hint of masculine spice and just enough pressure to make her accept him. To make her want more. Surprised that it wasn’t a full-throttle brazen burst of passion, she relaxed. Her eyes automatically closed as her body focused on the exquisite sweetness trickling into her. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything so nice—a subtle magic that melted her resistance, and saw her start to strain for what she knew he was holding at bay.

Her lips parted—she couldn’t deny herself. His response came immediate, and powerful. She heard his sound of satisfaction and his hands moved from the steel behind to her soft body. She trembled top to toe as he swiftly shaped her curves, pulling her against him. She had to grab hold of his shoulders or she was going to tumble backwards. The kiss deepened again as she felt the wide, flat planes and hard strength of him. Her neck arched back as he stroked into her mouth. She lifted her hand, sliding her fingers into his thick hair. He showed no mercy then, bending her back all the more as he sought full access, kissing her jaw and neck and back up again to claim her mouth—this time with confident, carnal authority.

She shuddered at the impact, felt him press closer still. Sandwiched between him and the cabinet, she was trapped between forces as unyielding and demanding as each other. Yet she had no desire to escape, not now.

The arrogance of him was breathtaking. But not anywhere as breathtaking as the way he kissed. It was as if he was determined to maximise pleasure for them both and the control she usually held so tight started to slide as her own desire mounted.

He was silk-wrapped steel and she wanted to feel all of him against her, slicing into her. She wanted him. Wanted as she hadn’t wanted anyone in a long, long time. Okay, ever. Hungry for his strength and passion, she kissed him back—melting against his body, delving into his mouth with her tongue, so keen to explore more.

And he knew. He lifted his hand from her waist to her breast and, oh, so lightly stroked his fingers across her violently taut nipple.

She felt the touch as if her skin were bare. And it burned too hot.

She jerked back, ripping her mouth free from his. Their eyes met, faces inches apart. A flare of something dangerous kindled in his—different from the earlier fury but just as frightening for Penny. She pushed as far back against the cool metal cabinet as she could, breathing hard. She shook her head, the only method of communication she could manage. While he stood, rock hard, and stared right back at her.

A million half-thoughts murmured in her head—desperate thoughts, forgotten thoughts, frightening thoughts.

Carter Dodds wasn’t the kind of man to let a woman stay on top—Penny’s only acceptable position, metaphorically anyway. He’d just demonstrated he’d always ultimately be the one in charge—his almost pretty-boy packaging disguised a total he-man with all masculine, all dominant virility. He’d made his move that way—lulling her into a sense of sweet security before unleashing his true potency and damn near swamping her reason. She liked sex—enjoyed the chase, the fun of touch, the fleeting closeness. But she never, ever lost control. She had to be in charge—needed to be the one who was wanted—even if only for that little while. She was very careful with whom she shared her body because she would always walk away. She ensured that a lover understood that. Commitment wasn’t something she could ever give. Nor was complete submission. So the sensations now threatening to submerge all her capacity for rational thought were very new. And very unwelcome.

But there was a logical explanation. Less than five minutes ago she’d thought she was being attacked. Her heart hadn’t had a chance since to stop its manic stuttering and it was still sending ‘escape now’ blasts through her blood.

‘Well, that was one way to burn off the adrenalin overload.’ She totally had to act cool.

‘Is that what you were doing?’

‘Sure. You know, I was still wired from the fright of you assaulting me in my own office.’

He stepped back, taking his heat with him. But his scrutiny seemed even more intense than ever. ‘Oh. So what was it for me?’

She hazarded a simple guess. ‘Normal?’

His mouth quirked. ‘Not.’

Cool just wasn’t happening but she had to scrape her melting body back together. She wasn’t afraid of taking fun where it could be found, but there wasn’t fun to be had here. Anything that hot eventually had to hurt. And any emotion that intense scared her. In ten minutes with Carter she’d already run the gamut of terror, fury and lust—way too much of the latter. So she turned away from the challenge in his eyes.

‘I need to get going. I’m late as it is.’ The sooner she got to the bar, the better—she had to burn up the energy zinging round her body like a demented fly trapped in a jar. Fast and free on the dance floor for the next eight hours might do it.

‘Hot date?’

‘Very.’ She lied, happy to slam the brakes on anything between them by invoking her imaginary man friend. She opened up her gym bag; she’d straighten up her appearance and then her insides. But those insides shrieked—she breathed choppily, her heart jack-hammered—so the hairdryer’s cacophony was completely wonderful. It muted her clamouring nerves.

Carter took a couple of strides to get himself out of physical range so he could get a grip on the urge to haul her back against him. He didn’t know what had got into him. He’d just kissed a complete stranger. A stranger who he’d initially thought was Mason’s cheating thief.

He should probably apologise. But how could he be sorry for something so good? Except for a second there she’d looked at him as if he’d struck her, not snogged her. She’d looked shocked and almost hurt, almost vulnerable.

And then she’d blamed that chemistry on adrenalin? Who did she think she was kidding? And now she was apparently late for her date and she had her hairdryer blasting. But it wasn’t her hair getting the treatment. It was her shirt. She held it out from her body, blowing the warm air over the silk. Then she lifted the nozzle and aimed it down her neckline—what, so she could dry her soft, wet skin? Not helping his raging erection subside any. Nope, that just yanked it even tighter.

A light flickered on her desk. Her mobile. He glanced back up; she was still focused on her shirt. He picked up the mobile to hand it to her, his thumb hit the keypad and, oh, shame, that message from Mel just flicked up on the screen.

Where r u? Kat & Bridge already on d-floor & lookg tragic. Need yr expertise.

Her hot date was with Mel, Kat and Bridge? A bunch of women out on a mission—on a Monday night. That shouldn’t amuse him quite as much as it did. He walked up, took the dryer from her hand and pointed it at his wet hair. Immediately he jerked back from the blast of air. ‘It’s freezing!’

The pink in her cheeks deepened.

‘Yeah,’ he teased, the sparks arcing between them again. ‘I thought you were feeling hot.’

‘It’s malfunctioning,’ she said sulkily.

Carter fiddled with the switch and then aimed the dryer at her like a gun. ‘Or maybe it’s because you had it turned on cold.’

Boom—even more red blotches peppered her creamy skin. She snatched the appliance back off him and switched it off.

‘Here’s your phone.’ He bit the bullet and handed it over.

She looked at the screen and frowned. ‘You read my text?’

‘It flashed when I picked it up.’ He shrugged almost innocently.

‘You didn’t need to pick it up.’

‘But I like picking up pretty little things.’ Even less innocent.

Blacker than black eyes narrowed. ‘I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice.’

‘Well, that does make for perfect performance.’ Yep, wickedly sinful now.

‘Is that what you think you offer? Perfection?’

He grinned at her tone. She made provocation so irresistible. ‘You don’t think?’

Her eyes raked him hard and, heaven help him, he loved it. ‘I think you could do with some more practice.’

‘You’re offering?’

She turned away from him, retrieved the jug from the floor and marched to the water cooler to refill it. What, she was literally going to douse the flames again? But, no, she poured the water around the base of the monstrosity that was supposedly an office plant.

‘What is it, some kind of triffid?’ He reached up to the branches overhanging the cabinet. ‘If it grows any more, there won’t be room for anyone to work in here.’

‘She belongs to Carol and she’ll be here when she gets back. All healthy.’

‘You think that’s really going to happen?’ Carter knew Mason’s long-time assistant had a cancer battle on her hands. She’d been off for months and Mason was paying her full salary out of his own pocket. Which was why finding the person stealing from him was a priority. He was paying for two PAs. He was a hardworking, generous employer who deserved better than some skunk skimming and putting the entire company in jeopardy.

‘Of course she’s coming back.’ Penny banged the jug back on top of the filing cabinet and finally looked at him directly again. The flames were still there. ‘Is someone really stealing from him?’

Carter nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘But Mason’s one of the good guys. He gives so much to charity. He doesn’t deserve that.’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

Her appraisal went rapier sharp. ‘Well, you’d better lift your game.’

‘Hmm.’ He nodded agreeably. ‘I was thinking that too.’ But the game he meant was the one with her. And he didn’t miss the warring desire and antagonism in her expression.

He walked alongside her down the corridor, rode the lift in silent torture. The space between them was too small but he wanted it even smaller—to nothing but skin on skin. Like a tiger, he was ready to pounce. At least his body was; his brain was frantically trying to issue warnings—like he didn’t have time for this, like he needed to focus.

The security guard leapt up from his desk to get the door. ‘Goodnight, Penny.’ His smile widened as he watched her walk across the foyer towards him. That smile faded when he glanced behind her and registered Carter’s frown. ‘Goodnight, sir.’ Suddenly all respectful.

Carter made himself nod and smile.

‘Hope Maddie’s better when you get home,’ Penny said lightly.

‘Me too.’ The guard’s smile spread again. ‘See you tomorrow. Not too early, you understand?’

She just laughed as she went through the door.

‘Have fun, Penny,’ Carter drawled softly as they hit the pavement.

She turned and fluttered him a look one eyelash short of do-me-now. ‘Oh, I plan to.’

So she couldn’t resist striking the sparks either. And he knew the kind of fun girls like her liked—the eat-men-for-breakfast kind. He smiled, happy to play if she wanted, because experience had made him too tough to chew. She could learn that if she dared.

She walked away, her legs ridiculously long in that sexy strip of a skirt, her balance perfect on the high, narrow heels. Her glossy brown hair cascaded down to her almost too-trim waist. He bet she worked out in the pursuit of perfection. Not that she needed to bother. She nailed it on attitude alone.

Testosterone—and other things—surged again. So did his latent combative nature. That vulnerability he’d seen upstairs when he’d startled her, and again after he’d kissed her? A mirage—she’d been buying time while assessing her position. For Penny the PA knew how to play men—the slayer look she’d just shot him proved it. Mason thought the world of her. The security guy was falling over himself to help her. She’d want to bring Carter to heel like every other man she knew. Yeah, he’d seen her vixen desire for dominance. She thought she could toy with him as some feline would a mouse.

She was so wrong.

But he could hardly wait for her to bring it on.

CHAPTER TWO

PENNY winked at Jed as she walked back into the building just over nine hours later—three of which had been spent dancing and six sort-of sleeping.

‘Too early, Penny.’ The security guard covered his yawn, clearly barely hanging out the last half-hour before clocking off.

‘Too much to do.’

First in for the day, she wanted to get ahead and be fully functioning by the time Mason showed. Definitely by the time Carter Dodds rolled in. The super-size black coffee in her hand would help. But she’d barely got seated when there was movement in her doorway.

‘Thought I’d bring this up before I left.’

Jed walked in—well, from the voice she knew it was him. His body was completely obscured by the floral bouquet that was almost too wide to fit through the door.

‘They just arrived,’ he puffed.

‘Not more?’ Penny shrivelled deeper into her seat. She knew who they were from. Aaron—a spoilt-for-choice playboy type with several options on the go—the kind of guy Penny always looked for when she needed some company for a while. Only the spark was missing. Last week she’d told him no and goodbye—thought she’d made it clear—but the flowers continued to prove otherwise.

‘Thanks, Jed,’ she said as he offloaded the oversize blooms onto her desk. ‘Have a good sleep.’

‘Not me who needs it.’

Penny held back her sigh. She’d take the bunch back down to Reception again but she’d wait ’til Jed had gone for the day—he was exhausted after the night shift and had to go home to a sick preschooler. He didn’t need to be hauling flowers back and forth for her.

She picked up her phone and hit one of the pre-programmed buttons.

‘SpeedFreaks.’

‘Hi, Kate,’ Penny said. ‘I’ve got a floral delivery please.’

‘Penny? Another one?’

‘Yeah.’ She tried not to sound too negative about it. It was pretty pathetic to be upset by having masses of flowers delivered; most women would be thrilled. But cut flowers didn’t make her think of romance and sweethearts, they made her think hospitals and funerals and lives cut way too short. ‘Can you pick them up as soon as possible?’

She heard a movement behind her and turned, smiling in anticipation of Mason. But she forgot all about Mason, or smiling, even the flowers. Only one thing filled her feeble mind.

Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair dangerously leaning towards shaggy—she shouldn’t be thinking shag anything. But she was. Because his eyes were leaning towards dangerous to match. She half waved with her phone hand to let him know she was occupied. But he didn’t go away and she really needed him to because her head wasn’t working well with him watching her like that. She pointedly looked past him to the corridor—didn’t he know to come back in a few minutes?

No. He just thudded a heavy shoulder against the doorframe, becoming a human door—blocking her exit and anyone else’s entry to the room.

And he smiled. Not just dangerous—positively killer.

She tried to look away, honest she did. But that ability had been stolen from her the moment her eyes had met his.

‘Can you get them picked up asap?’ she asked on auto, her brain fried by Carter’s perfectly symmetrical features. Other parts of her body had gone on quick burn too. Thank heavens she still had her jacket on, because her boobs were like twin beacons screaming her interest through her white blouse. Memories of that gentle stroke last night tormented her. ‘They’ll be at Reception.’

He was even more handsome in the morning light. Even more now she wasn’t blinded by fear and her senses weren’t heightened by a surge of adrenalin. No, now it was some other hormone rippling through her body making her shiver.

He stared back as if he were mentally undressing her as fast as she was him. There were no black jeans and tee today, it was suit all the way. Dark, so understated it actually stood out, its uniform style showing off the fat-free frame beneath. Penny’s heart thundered.

She turned back to her desk, her voice lowering. ‘Thanks, Kate.’ She wanted off the phone.

‘Are you sure you don’t want them? Or him?’ Kate didn’t pick up on Penny’s need-to-hang-up vibe. ‘He must be loaded to keep sending you these massive bouquets. And he’s obviously dead keen.’

Penny winced. Then winced again as she realised Carter would be able to hear Kate too—the phone volume was too loud. She glanced over her shoulder and jumped. He wasn’t in the doorway any more. He was about three inches away—at the most.

‘No. I’ll spell it out in single syllables.’ But Penny tensed. She didn’t know how more obvious she could be. She’d thought Aaron would be fine with a few dates’ fun before saying goodbye. Only they hadn’t got anywhere near that far. She figured the over-the-top floral attention was just him not being used to hearing ‘no’ and now he was determined to make her change her mind for the boy sport of it. But she couldn’t be sure. And because she couldn’t be completely sure, she couldn’t be completely harsh. Not ever again.

‘Where do you want them to go?’

‘What about the hospice? But send them to the staff room. Those guys work so hard.’

‘Sure.’

Carter had his ultimate weapon loaded again—that smile was amused now, curving his full, sensual mouth. The green-blue eyes were bright and clear, but the clarity itself seemed to be shielding secrets within. Like a mirror they reflected the 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.