The New Guy
KATHRYN FREEMAN

One More Chapter

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Kathryn Freeman 2020

Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Kathryn Freeman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Source ISBN: 9780008365820

Ebook Edition © March 2020 ISBN: 9780008365813

Version: 2020-09-18

About This Book

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

About This Book

Part One: A Chance Meeting

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Part Two: The New Guy

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part Three: A Matter of Trust

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Part Four: The Idea

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Part Five: A Secret Affair

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Part Six: The Unscheduled Visit

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Part Seven: The Conclusion

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

PART ONE

Chapter 1

Sitting alone at the bar in her local pub wasn’t how she wanted to spend the evening. Only a few hours ago, Sam had been with her family in Cornwall, saying goodbye to her grandad. And by saying goodbye she meant watching, tears streaming down her face, as his coffin slid behind a heavy velvet curtain.

She wanted to be back in Cornwall now, celebrating his life with her slowly-turning-hippy parents, her beautiful, slightly crazy sisters and her raucous but salt of the earth brothers. Drinking too much and laughing too loud, because when you’d lost the head of the family, the linchpin, the man they’d all turned to for advice at some point in their lives, what else was there to do?

Full of misery, she downed the rest of her glass. She could at least drink. And while she was drinking, the dark, brooding guy who’d eased onto the stool to her right was a welcome distraction. Catching the barman’s eye, she smiled and signalled for another glass of champagne.

‘I’m celebrating.’ Sam turned to find brooding guy’s dark brown eyes looking at her; wary, a little irritated. Surprisingly magnetic. When she realised he wasn’t going to say anything, she laughed. Sober Sam would have been embarrassed, but two glasses of fizz had given her a buzz. ‘Celebrating isn’t the right word, but Grumps would appreciate the sentiment.’

Brooding guy kept his eyes fixed on hers. Come on, she willed him. I’ve given you a neat opening.

He turned his attention back to the half-drunk pint in front of him. ‘Enjoy.’

Enjoy? Had she lost her touch? She wasn’t a woman whom men tripped over themselves to talk to; her hair was too red, skin too pale, eyes abnormally large and her mouth too big. All on top of a body that might have the height of a model but had the size of someone who enjoyed her food. Still, she was a woman most people, male or female, responded to. Charisma, her parents called it, but they were hardly unbiased. She preferred empathetic. Sensitive and perceptive worked, too. Actually no, scratch that last one. Perceptive implied an ability to assess, to judge a person’s character. History confirmed she was lousy at that.

‘Not interested in who Grumps is?’ Again, sober Sam wouldn’t have pushed, but tipsy Sam was determined to prove she still had the knack of getting others to talk.

They guy’s eyes flicked back to her and he gave her a dark look, annoyance radiating off him. ‘A weird dwarf?’

She blinked, then burst out laughing. ‘Grumpy, Snow White, I see where you’re coming from.’

He gave her a brief, false smile – if she read it correctly, it said bugger off and leave me alone. Then he hunched back over his pint.

With a sigh, Sam took a gulp from her freshly filled champagne. It tasted sour now, the bubbles too joyful. Against her will her mind circled back to the last week, and the sorrow of sitting uselessly by her grandad’s side as she watched him bravely lose his battle against cancer.

Oh, sod it. She wasn’t going to wallow. ‘Grumps was my grandad.’ She didn’t care if the guy next to her didn’t want to listen. She was going to talk. ‘He died a few days ago and it’s gutting to think I won’t get to talk to him again. We cremated him this morning.’ Shamefully she realised she hadn’t even changed from her funeral suit. Too desperate to escape the four walls of her flat. ‘I want to be drowning my sorrows with my family right now, but I had to come back.’ She shrugged, aware of his dark eyes on her. ‘Work, you know? So here I am, drinking to celebrate his life, because it’s what he’d have wanted. I seem to be doing a lousy job of it though.’ Her voice wobbled and she paused to take a breath. No more tears. ‘I know you’re dying to ask but are too shy, so I’ll tell you. When I was little I couldn’t say Gramps, which was what my brothers and sisters called him. I’d say Grumps. I kept the nickname because I loved the irony. He was the least grumpy man I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a few.’ Her eyes flicked towards him.

He glowered. ‘What?’

She smiled sweetly. ‘Nothing.’

He grunted and turned away again, swivelling the pint glass round and round in his hands. Elegant, she realised with surprise. She’d expected hands that fitted his face. Hard, blunt. Not that he wasn’t good-looking, but his attraction was more that of the boxer than the artist. A nose that she’d like to bet had been broken and not set properly. A square, stubborn jaw. Very short brown hair, cut in a way that was more about practicality than style. Deep, dark eyes that were the focus of his face. Lips that could have been described as sensitive but seemed permanently turned down in a scowl.

‘So, what’s your story?’

Another glare from his expressive eyes. ‘No story.’

‘Come on, give me something. Doesn’t even have to be the truth. Just talk to me for a while. Take my mind off losing my grandad.’

‘Jeeze,’ he muttered. ‘No offence but piss off and find someone else. Talking isn’t my thing.’

Though the words were harsh, alcohol had dulled her sensitivity. Besides, his expression was more resigned than angry. Noticing his eyes still on her, she made an exaggerated scan of the pub. ‘Shame, I can’t see anyone else sitting by themselves. You’ll have to do. And anyway, talking is good for the soul. You’d be amazed how therapeutic it can be, even if it’s with a stranger.’ When she once again failed to get a reply, she waved a hand towards his face. ‘Do you box? Your nose looks kind of crooked.’

Other than an almost imperceptible shake of the head, which could have been an answer, but could equally have signalled that he thought she was nuts, he remained silent.

‘It’s still a good nose,’ she added. ‘I was just making conversation. You said talking wasn’t your thing, so I thought you’d find it easier if I asked questions and you answered them.’

‘Frigging unbelievable.’ He shook his head more forcefully this time, but there was no heat to his words.

‘So, do you? Box, I mean?’

‘No.’

‘How did you break it, then?’

He exhaled, the sound bursting with frustration. ‘Lady, you don’t need to be in a ring to fight.’

‘Ah, got it. Somebody punched you. What had you done?’ The sharp look he gave her was loaded with warning. ‘Okay, touchy subject.’ She indicated his now empty pint. ‘Let me buy you a drink while I think of another question.’ Signalling again to the barman, she fought to hide her smile. She was actually starting to enjoy this game, teasing snippets of conversation from a moody, attractive stranger.

It wasn’t how he’d wanted to spend his evening. The pub was okay, if you liked the posh gastropub type. Ryan was more of a traditionalist, but the beer was good. Bloody expensive, but good. Guess he’d have to get used to London prices now he’d moved here. Just as he’d have to get used to the shithole of a flat he’d come to the pub to escape from.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom, mind. Some fancy lady was now buying him a pint. Not bad-looking either, he thought as he watched her giving her order to the barman. He was a fan of big blue eyes and high cheekbones, wasn’t sure about pale skin and red hair but it looked good on her. He even dug her sexy wide mouth, though she could do with keeping it shut more. She was clearly one of those chatty, life-is-full-of-rainbows-and-unicorns types. The ones who believed all the world’s problems could be solved by people being nice to each other. They really did his head in. Life was hard and people were gits. Accept it and get on with it.

Who the hell drank champagne in a pub anyway – and to celebrate the life of a man called Grumps?

Still, he wasn’t going to turn down a free pint at these prices, no matter who bought it.

‘Thanks,’ he said when the warm, slightly too frothy pint was put in front of him. As she’d bought it for him, he could at least be civil. ‘Cheers.’ He nodded to the full glass of champagne she was being handed by the barman. ‘Still celebrating?’

Her eyes, already too big for her face, widened a fraction before she twigged. ‘I think I’m more drowning my sorrows now. Do you have a grandad you’re close to?’

‘No.’

‘That’s a shame.’ Undeterred by his monosyllabic answer, she gave him a bright smile. ‘Grandads are really special. When all the world is rushing, they always have time for you.’

Slowly her cheery smile faded. Bizarrely, Ryan found he missed it. Sure, she irritated him. He’d come to the pub to escape his shitty four walls. Not to become embroiled in polite conversation – something he was pathetically poor at. But now she’d gone quiet, her spark dimmed, and he had this weird compulsion to see it back again. ‘You want to talk about him?’ Her eyes widened. Christ, they were amazing. He’d never seen the like. Blue pools big enough to dive into. Now her smile was back, her eyes sort of … shone, he guessed, was the word.

‘You mean that? You’d seriously listen if I told you all the Grumps anecdotes burning through my brain right now?’

Shit, maybe this was a bad idea. Then again, it wasn’t like his other options – staring at his pint, or at his crappy four walls – were thrilling alternatives. ‘Two. I’ll listen to two stories.’

Her smile racked up another watt, those eyes sucking him further in. ‘Ten.’

He blanched. ‘Give me a break. Four.’

She held out her hand. ‘Let’s shake on five.’

Before he knew what was happening, he was holding her hand. Okay, he was shaking it, but the jolt of unexpected desire that shot through him at the contact made it feel just as intimate. The way her eyes darkened and her smile froze told him she’d experienced it too.

He dragged his hand away, aware that suddenly everything between them felt different. For the first time that night he noticed what she was wearing: a fancy dark suit – had she come straight from the funeral? Noticed too the subtle, yet he’d like to bet stupidly expensive, perfume she wore. And the hint of cleavage revealed by her white silk blouse. No longer was she a random stranger sitting on a bar stool. Now she was a warm, vibrant, sexy woman. All those ditzy rainbows and unicorns aside.

Clearing his throat, he nodded at her to start. ‘You’ve got ten minutes.’

‘What? We didn’t agree a time limit.’

He smirked, glad to feel his control returning. ‘So, I play dirty.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Nine minutes, thirty seconds.’

She looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or throttle him. Then she took a sip of her drink, rolled those ginormous eyes and began to talk.

Did he listen to a word she was saying? Nah, of course he didn’t. He’d asked because she’d looked like she wanted to talk, not because he was interested in some dead old guy he’d never met. With a ridiculous nickname. Although while he wasn’t listening to the words, he did enjoy the sound of her voice. Almost as much as he enjoyed watching her talk. The expressive face, the self-mocking laughter, the seemingly random movement of her hands which appeared to ‘talk’ almost as much as she did. Yeah, watching her was as good a way as any to spend the evening.

Except maybe touching her.

He lunged for his forgotten pint and took a deep swig. Did he have the guts to chat her up? It wasn’t his usual MO. Not being good with words, he tended to wait for women to come on to him, though it meant he attracted a certain type. Classy, champagne-swigging ladies were a serious upgrade.

Chapter 2

Sam was on a roll. Halfway through her fourth anecdote about her grandad and the words were flying, her misery temporarily forgotten. Somehow this taciturn stranger had realised exactly what she’d needed. Sam knew the guy wasn’t listening, but it didn’t matter. Only that he was pretending to be interested, so she didn’t look like a total nutter, sitting here talking to herself.

‘Three more minutes.’ His gruff voice sliced through her flow.

‘You’re actually timing me?’

‘A deal’s a deal.’

She wanted to argue, press her point that she’d not agreed to a time limit, but it would cut into the precious minutes. ‘Fine. Last one. Grumps was the one who told me I could do whatever I put my mind to. He’s the reason I took a business degree.’

His eyes swept her face, assessing her. ‘He is, huh? Well, good old Grumps.’

Amusement glittered in the dark eyes that stared back at her, and the flutter she’d felt when he’d clasped her hand returned with a vengeance, sending a rush of desire surging through her. Raw, primal, it was unlike anything she’d felt before. She was used to the slow burn. A building attraction that morphed into desire over time, once she’d got to know someone. Friends to lovers. And then to enemies, she remembered bitterly, before shaking away the thought.

She’d never be friends with this stranger. He was too dour, too surly, but heaven help her, she fancied him. Clearly champagne had lowered her threshold for finding men attractive. Either that or her libido, after being thoroughly decimated eighteen months ago, was starting to pull itself together.

The guy continued to stare, his amusement fading. ‘I don’t care what degree you did.’

‘Right, okay. Of course you don’t.’ The heat from his eyes was making her skin prick.

‘Don’t care what your name is, either,’ he added roughly.

‘Fine.’ The dismissive tone was at odds with the intense expression on his face. She started to turn away, confused by his mixed messages and her acute reaction to him, when he cleared his throat, his lips curving in a half smile.

‘All I care about is whether your bedroom is less of a shithole than mine.’

Shocked, she almost fell off the stool. As her heart bounced against her ribs, she grabbed hold of the bar. ‘Pardon?’

His mouth opened, as if he was about to reply, then slammed shut again. God, what was wrong with her that, despite his crude statement, she wanted to feel those lips on her skin?

Suddenly he grabbed at his beer and swallowed the rest down in one, long, gulp. ‘Forget it. It’s been fun, Champagne Lady, but I’m off.’

‘That’s it?’ Disappointment crashed through her, making her blurt the next words without thinking. ‘What about my bedroom?’

His cheeks reddened. ‘Dumb move.’ He shifted off the stool, his movements tight and jerky. ‘Blame the beer.’

She could blame the champagne for what she was about to say, but Sam knew that would be a lie. The alcohol only made it easier to be brave. ‘So, you’re not interested in how my bedroom stacks on the shithole scale?’

His eyes flashed. ‘Piss off.’

He snatched at the brown leather jacket draped over the back of the stool. Sam had a brief sense of height and bulk – hard, muscular bulk – before he turned and headed for the exit.

She should leave it at that. He was embarrassed and she’d compounded it by making it appear like she was teasing him, when actually she’d been trying to come on to him. Looks like they were both useless when it came to the art of propositioning.

Yet her eyes wouldn’t stray from his broad shoulders as he cut his way through the now heaving pub.

What would Grumps have said? Life is for living, Sam. One day you’ll wake up and be as old as me.

Making a snap decision she jumped down from the stool. One night. It’s all she wanted. A night when she could remember what it felt like to be a sexually attractive woman.

‘Wait!’

She caught up with him as he was about to cross the road outside the pub. Her breath caught as he halted and slowly turned to face her. He’d shrugged on his jacket and jammed his hands into the pockets, a scowl still on his face. At five foot ten, it wasn’t often Sam came across men who made her feel small. Not that this guy was excessively tall – she’d put him at six-two, maybe three. Yet the shoulders that strained against the leather of the jacket, the broken nose and the whole brooding thing he had going on, gave him a dangerous vibe. He looked big and mean. Intimidating. A bull, facing down the matador.

‘What?’

Maybe this was a bad idea. Inviting this guy to her place was pure insanity. But he pretended to listen while you talked about your grandad.

‘You planning on saying anything?’

He quirked a brow and she was relieved to see he seemed more irritated than angry now.

‘Sorry.’ She waved her hands about uselessly. ‘I think somehow I’ve offended you and I wanted you to know that it wasn’t my intention.’

‘You haven’t.’ His eyes drifted over her shoulder, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

‘Then why did you run away?’

‘Jesus.’ He inhaled slowly, then let it out in a hiss. ‘I tried a clumsy come-on, you shot me down. No big deal.’

‘I didn’t.’ When no reply came, she elaborated. ‘I said pardon, not no.’

‘Right.’ The muscle jumped again. ‘And is pardon code for yes now?’

‘Pardon means—’

‘I know what it means.’ He drew in another sharp breath. ‘You surely didn’t need me to repeat what I’d just said. It was fucking embarrassing enough the first time.’

‘You’re right, I didn’t.’ It was her turn for the deep breath. Come on, Sam, this isn’t hard. Take the jump. Live a little. ‘I said it to cover my surprise. Given longer to think, what I’d have actually asked is: do you want to come back with me because you hate your place? Or because you want me?’

The simmering anger faded. ‘Look, lady, I want to go back with you because you’re hot.’ He shrugged those impressive shoulders. ‘I mean, you talk too much, so we won’t be heading down the aisle, but you’re seriously hot. The chance to get away from my shithole for a while is a bonus.’

His words incited a zing of excitement. ‘You’re not my type, either. Too quiet and you don’t smile enough. But I find myself strangely attracted to you.’

‘Yeah? Does that mean we’re heading to yours?’ When she nodded, he started to laugh. ‘Well, lead the way, Champagne Lady.’

Ryan couldn’t believe his luck. One minute he’d been going back to his dump with his tail between his legs, dragging his battered ego behind him. Next, he was walking down the road with an elegant lady, about to get laid. Not that his godawful chat-up line deserved such an outcome but hey, he wasn’t about to complain. Either Champagne Lady was desperate – hard to imagine, looking like she did – or she fancied lowering her standards for the night. Lucky him.

Of course, there was a third option.

He glanced sideways at her. She was walking in a straight line, wasn’t she? A moment later, as if to prove how biased his judgement was, she stumbled. He shot out a hand and grabbed at her arm.

‘Thanks.’ She darted him an embarrassed smile and pointed to her sexy high shoes. ‘I don’t usually go to the pub in a black suit. I should have changed. At least put on some flat shoes. No woman in their right mind decides to get drunk while wearing heels.’

Damn it. He lurched to a stop, which, as he was still clutching her arm, brought her to a halt too. ‘Tell me you’re not drunk.’

She nibbled on her bottom lip, sending bolts of lust surging through him. ‘Umm, I’m not drunk?’

The wide-eyed look she gave him was cute, a mix of mischief and innocence, and he cursed under his breath. ‘Look, you’ve been drinking so I need to know this isn’t going to come back and bite me on the arse later.’ He held her by the shoulders, staring down at her. ‘Do you know what you’re doing?’

‘I thought we were going back to my place to screw like bunnies.’ Her mouth curved in a sexy smile. ‘That’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever say.’

Not unfocused, he decided. Her eyes were sexy as hell, but not unfocused. Still, his conscience pushed him. ‘You’re not going to wake up tomorrow morning with a bucketload of regrets? Cursing me for taking advantage?’

‘I’m going to curse you for ruining the mood if you carry on like this.’ She wasn’t just getting annoyed now, he noted with alarm, she was becoming agitated.

Way to go, Ryan Black. First man in history to talk himself out of getting laid. His hands still on her shoulders, he looked past the eyes that had held him transfixed, and down to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The enticing curve of her cleavage, peeping out of the V of her blouse. No way was he going to blow this. No bloody way. Dipping his head – with her heels on, he didn’t have too far to bend – he kissed her.

She gasped, but he swallowed whatever she was going to say as he pressed his mouth more firmly, teasing her lips open with his tongue so he could dive into the heat of her. He groaned as he got his first taste. Champagne. And those bloody rainbows. Far sweeter than he’d thought, yet even more intoxicating. Desire ripped through him and he dropped a hand to her back, then lower, to the curve of her buttocks, pressing her against the part of him that ached and throbbed.

Mind fogged with lust, he continued to drive them both crazy right there, on the pavement, until a shrill wolf whistle and the unsubtle cry of ‘get a room’ broke his stride just enough for sanity to return. Breathing heavily, he eased back. ‘How’s your mood now?’ he asked hoarsely.

Her lips, swollen from his kisses, broke into a grin. ‘Back on track.’

‘Good. Let’s get to your place before I balls this up again.’

Dimly he noticed they were headed to the posh end of town. The opposite direction to the way he’d come. He’d had to get on a tube for a few stops in order to find a pub he was reasonably confident he wouldn’t get stabbed in. Just when he was about to ask how much further – her heels looked hell to walk in – she turned off the high street and into a smart side road where a cluster of elegant Georgian townhouses surrounded a small green.

She halted outside the second house. ‘I’m, umm, in this one.’

‘Nice.’

‘Yes.’ He knew her nerves had reappeared when she wouldn’t look him in the eye. ‘You’re not like an axe murderer or anything, are you?’

He made a play of opening his jacket and looking in the inside pocket. ‘No axe today.’

Her smile looked strained. ‘Sorry, you can probably tell, I’m not used to doing this.’

‘Sex?’

It got the smile he’d hoped for. ‘Sex I can manage. It’s bringing a guy I don’t know back to mine that’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.’

Yet again, he felt the evening slipping away from him. ‘If it helps, I’m no expert at this either.’

‘You’re not?’

He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or insulted at her obvious surprise. ‘You couldn’t tell from my smooth pick-up line?’ Because he didn’t want to dwell on that again, he added, ‘We can always go back to mine, instead.’ Though he shuddered at the thought.

‘The shithole?’

‘Yeah. Bed’s comfy.’ He’d made sure of it. Renting a furnished dive was bad enough. He wasn’t going to sleep on a mattress that rats had partied on.

‘No, we’re good here.’

She shifted from foot to foot and he knew, despite her words, she was still debating. He reached into his jeans pocket and drew out his wallet. ‘Would it help if I told you my name and address? Showed you some ID?’

‘No.’ She pushed his hand away, all that shiny red hair bouncing around her shoulders as she shook her head. ‘I kind of like that we don’t know each other.’

‘You got a sex-with-a-stranger kink going on?’ He didn’t mind that. Didn’t mind it at all.

‘I don’t think so. More recovering from a shitty breakup and not ready to date but I miss sex.’

Reassured, he clasped her hand. ‘Then let’s get you laid.’

She laughed softly. ‘Not exactly Mr Romantic, are you?’

He watched as she opened the heavy black door and stepped into the hallway. ‘Thought you wanted a one-night stand?’

She glanced up at him beneath her lashes. ‘I do.’

Placing his hands beneath her buttocks he lifted her and marched them to the nearest wall. There he pushed her against it, settling his hips between her legs. His arousal against her core. ‘Then who needs romance?’ He asked roughly, before plundering her mouth.

Her legs – he had a flash of bunched skirt and long, shapely leg – wrapped around him, sending further jolts of heat through him. As he continued to kiss her, he pushed the jacket off her shoulders and started to undo the buttons of her blouse. Christ, if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t even get to her bedroom. Panting like a dog on heat, he drew back and let her legs slide slowly back to the ground. ‘What floor are you on?’

‘Third.’ At least she looked and sounded as turned on as he did.

‘Okay then.’ Three flights of stairs. Nothing to a man who worked out like he did, yet right now it felt like he had to climb Everest.

But then he looked at her flushed cheeks, her glittering blue eyes. The rise and fall of a pair of glorious lace-covered breasts, now partly exposed by his wandering hands. Climbing Everest was a small price to pay for spending the night with this woman.

Chapter 3

The nerves that had been successfully wiped out by his kiss returned as Sam opened the front door to her flat. She was being rash, sure, but women did this all the time. She just had to trust her instinct.

Her stomach fluttered as the nerves bedded in. There’d been a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated. A time when she’d known for sure she could judge a man’s character.

‘You okay?’

She turned to find her guest filling the doorway, his expression showing a hint of concern. Downstairs they’d been about to rip each other’s clothes off. Now she was considering putting on the brakes, even though she’d already made the decision to let him in.

She sighed, hanging her jacket on the peg in the hallway. She didn’t want it to be like this, all cautious and fearful. She wanted passion. A wild night when she could forget everything. And if the kiss downstairs was anything to go by, the pair of them had so much sexual chemistry, passion was as good as guaranteed. Providing she could get past these jitters.

He shifted on his feet. ‘Look, maybe this was a bad idea.’

Oh no. She wasn’t letting go of her plan that easily. She didn’t do wussing out. Straightening her shoulders, she tugged his hand, pulling him inside. Then shut the door behind him with a deliberate shove.

The action caused him to raise an eyebrow. ‘Or maybe it’s not.’

‘It’s not.’ She focused not on what she didn’t know about him, but what she did. He’d made sure she wasn’t drunk. He’d offered to show her his ID. Even now, he was giving her an out. They weren’t the actions of a man she needed to be afraid of. ‘Just tell me what we do now.’ As the words played back to her, she started to laugh. ‘I mean, I know we need to get naked at some point, but do you want a drink first?’

His mouth quirked. ‘I thought we’d done that at the pub.’

‘Yes, we have, sorry. I told you, I don’t usually do this sort of thing. I’m not sure of the rules.’

‘Don’t apologise.’ He cupped her face in a surprisingly gentle gesture. ‘This is just you and me, Champagne Lady. There are no rules.’

She watched as his mouth lowered towards hers; sensuous lips, surrounded by very male stubble. Her heart kicked up a gear. What was it about him that had made her act so out of character tonight? Or was it the circumstances, more than the man? Would she have invited any half-decent-looking guy back with her tonight? Those lips touched hers and she moaned as a dozen fireworks exploded, shooting heat through her blood.

No. It was this man she wanted tonight. Before he reduced her to a puddle of hormones again, she pushed on his chest, and wow, that was one hell of a wall of muscle. ‘We should head for the bedroom.’

‘If you like.’ His expression said he didn’t care where it happened, as long as it did.

And now the fluttering in her stomach was excitement, not nerves.

She started to lead the way when she came to an abrupt halt. ‘Can you carry me?’ At his puzzled look, she laughed, a teeny bit self-conscious. ‘“The hot stranger carried her to the bedroom.”’ She bit into her lip, aware she was making a fool of herself yet also uncaring, because she wasn’t going to see him again. The beauty of sex with a stranger. ‘Sounds better than “They walked to the bedroom”.’

He let out a low laugh and it looked good on him. Softened the edges of his rather blunt masculinity. ‘Are you writing a dirty book?’

‘Only in my head.’

Suddenly her feet were lifted off the floor, but rather than being swept into his arms, as she’d envisioned, she was thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. The absurdity of it got to her and she started to giggle, thumping on his back as he walked down the hallway, opening the door to the bathroom and the storage cupboard before he found one with a bed in it. ‘This one yours?’

‘Yes!’ she squeaked as he threw her – okay, it wasn’t hard, but still, he threw her – onto the bed. Blowing her hair out of her eyes, she stared up at him. ‘Not quite what I’d imagined.’

‘No? Your book doesn’t feature hunky firemen?’

It was because he said it with a straight face, she realised. Most men grinned when they used humour, but with this guy, it took a moment to realise he was joking.

But then he was climbing onto the bed, leaning over her, staring into her eyes, and all humour fled. His amusement might be hard to read but his arousal, his need, burned so bright she felt the searing intensity of it all the way to her toes. ‘This is the part where we get naked.’

‘Right.’ She swallowed, her stomach performing a series of frantic somersaults. ‘You first.’

‘Oh no. Ladies first.’ Lying alongside her, resting his weight on his left arm, he used his right to slowly undo the remaining buttons on her blouse. ‘Nice.’

Not the most eloquent compliment she’d ever had, but it was the look of wonder on his face that made it seem better than any flowery phrase he could have given her.

Wordlessly he slipped his hand behind her and flicked open the snap of her bra, tugging it off. ‘Very nice.’

She smiled, stopping him as he began to undo her skirt. ‘My turn.’ Her hands trembled slightly as she undid the buttons of his shirt.

‘Nervous?’ She shook her head. ‘Good.’

Excitement licked at her insides as she revealed the muscled expanse of his chest; the dusting of dark hair that covered his pecs, trailing erotically down past his navel and into the waistband of his jeans. Thrilled, she ran her hands across the ridges and planes of his stomach, feeling a throb of exquisite arousal as he let out a guttural groan.

‘You’re nicely packaged,’ she whispered.

He let out a strangled-sounding laugh. ‘Thanks.’

‘Go on, do that again.’

‘What?’

‘Laugh. You’re really sexy when you laugh.’

He hissed in a breath as her fingers reached for the button of his jeans. ‘I’m sexy and nicely packaged,’ he repeated hoarsely. ‘You must be drunker than I thought.’ With that his hand clamped over hers. ‘My turn again.’

Ryan didn’t know how much longer he could keep it together. For a man who couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex – and yeah, how humiliating was that? – having this sexy redhead in bed with him, her stupendous breasts now revealed, was almost too much. If she’d opened his fly, it could have been game over.

Summoning all his wavering control, he focused back on her. Off came the little black skirt, the natty white underwear and the sexy stockings that seemed to be able to hold themselves up all on their own. She had curves, he thought with satisfaction, and a pair of legs that were every bit as good as he’d imagined. He opened his mouth to say ‘nice’ again, then clamped it shut. He’d like to bet that word didn’t feature in any erotic book she had going on in her head.

Instead of talking he bent to kiss her calf, trailing his lips up to her hips, across the gentle curve of her stomach and then to those magnificent breasts.

When he’d had the satisfaction of turning her into a writhing, moaning, sexy-as-hell mess, he hastily shrugged off the rest of his clothes and settled over her. They both groaned at the contact of naked skin on naked skin, but as he reached to touch her breast again, he froze. ‘Hang on a minute.’

Condom. Damn and blast, did he have one in his wallet still? Leaping off the bed, he lunged for his jeans and started frantically searching through his wallet.

‘Everything okay?’ She was propped up on her elbows, looking over at him like a flame-haired temptress.

‘Yeah. Just, you know, protection.’ Smooth, Black. Really frigging smooth.

‘Ah. I guess that’s sexual fling 101.’

He knew it was meant as a joke, yet it made him feel stupid. How come he’d not thought of this until now? Just as his heart, and his libido, was in danger of sinking, he found a foil packet hidden behind the rarely used credit card. He almost blurted, ‘Eureka’ but stopped himself.

‘Sorry.’ He sorted himself out before easing back onto the bed, worried he might have totally ruined the moment.

‘Don’t be. At least you remembered.’ She grinned up at him. ‘Are we good to mate like bunnies now?’

There was a moment, a heartbeat, as he stared into her dancing eyes, that he felt a connection. Something beyond the sexual attraction. She was amused, not annoyed. Kind, not snippy. It made him regret there would only be tonight.

Then he shook the thought away. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life. Besides, she’d made it quite clear he wasn’t her type.

Still, he took a moment to brush the hair from her face. To gaze steadily into her eyes and give her a gentle, teasing kiss before thrusting into her.

Chest heaving, Ryan flopped back onto the bed. Christ, that wasn’t just sex. It was an out-of-body experience.

‘Holy shit.’

With the few remaining vestiges of strength he had left, he turned towards her. ‘Yeah. Ditto.’

‘We didn’t do too badly, for a pair of inexperienced one-night standers.’

He nodded, shifting his gaze up to the ceiling. She’s too chatty, he reminded himself, though he was kind of getting used to chatty.

The boundaries were very clear, though. Reluctantly he swung his legs off the bed. ‘Guess I should get going.’

‘You don’t have to.’

He stilled, looking over his shoulder at her. ‘Thought it was a one-time thing.’

Her hand clutched the sheet, pulling it up to hide her breasts. Her red hair was a messy riot, her cheeks flushed. She looked both sex goddess and innocent. ‘One night, I think we said.’ Her mouth curved into a sexy smile, notching up the siren.

With a shrug, as if he was cool either way, as if his body wasn’t already firing bolts of arousal back through his system, and his mind not already full of all the things he still wanted to do with her, Ryan shifted back into the bed. ‘Sure.’ He coughed to clear the hoarseness from his throat. ‘I can go with that.’

As dawn filtered through the shutters, he picked up the clothes he’d discarded round her bedroom and threw them on. A glance over to the bed confirmed she was still asleep. Ignoring the tug of disappointment, he picked up his jacket and crept out of the room. Better this way.

Last night he’d noticed nothing but her. This morning, as he walked back down the hallway, he checked out the place. Smart, upmarket. Much like she was. He’d like to bet rats didn’t party in her swanky kitchen or hang out on her vivid red velvet sofa, peeing on all the multicoloured cushions. Clearly, he hadn’t been wrong about the rainbow thing she had going on.

Whoever the hell she was, she had a lot more money than he did. It made him glad he’d escaped before she woke up. He’d like to bet she’d have a tonne of regrets – along with a humdinger of a headache – when she finally surfaced.

PART TWO

Chapter 4

As the sun shone through her curtains, Sam winced. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, her head like men with sharp tools were banging away inside it, trying to get out.

Serves her right for drinking so much. As for that saying about not getting a hangover from champagne, she could officially declare it bogus.

The events from last night began to trickle through her consciousness and she sat up with a start, frantically looking round the room. Relief washed through her as she noticed his clothes had gone. There would be no awkward morning conversation to taint the memory of what, she had to admit, had been a night of stupendous sex.

With a wistful sigh, she dropped her head back against the pillow. Would she do it again? Doubtful. Yet despite that, last night had been exactly what she’d needed. A few hours when the sadness of saying goodbye to her grandad, and the worries that seemed to be her constant companion these days, had been numbed by alcohol. And then obliterated by wild, fabulously hot sex with a total stranger.

Her eyes drifted to the bedside clock and she shrieked, then put her hand to her head as the men began banging with their tools even harder.

Three-quarters of an hour later she strolled into the foyer of Privacy Solutions. Five years ago it had been an idea conjured up by two bright-eyed undergraduates. Two years ago, the company had launched the Privacy app, a software solution that enabled users to identify websites storing information on them. It had catapulted them into the headlines, catching the imagination of the media and leading to sales that had outperformed their wildest predictions. It had meant moving the headquarters from a living room to the space it now occupied – the ground floor of a recently renovated old warehouse. Now the company employed fifteen full-time employees, several more contractors, and had an annual turnover of more than two million pounds.

But that was all in the past. Threats of a rival app, a superior app, meant things were about to get cut-throat.

‘Sam.’ Becky, marketing director and Sam’s best friend from school, ran over, burying her in a giant bear hug. ‘I’m so sorry about Grumps. How are you doing? How was the funeral? How’s your mum coping?’

Sam laughed as she tried to extricate herself. ‘I’ll tell you when you stop firing questions at me.’ Becky was one of life’s good people. Her hard shell – electric blue hair, pierced nose, leather skirt and heavy Doc Marten boots – hid a heart that was soft and surprisingly easy to bruise.

Becky took Sam’s hand and dragged her into a meeting room, pushing her unceremoniously onto a chair. ‘Talk to me.’

Because she knew Becky was asking out of genuine concern – she was almost part of the family – Sam patiently answered all the questions before asking a critical one of her own. ‘This new software developer that’s joining us. You’re sure about him?’

Becky rolled eyes that were heavily defined with black eyeliner. ‘Too late now. He’s starting in’ – she glanced at the large man’s watch on her wrist – ‘forty minutes.’

‘But he interviewed okay? I know he must have, or you wouldn’t have hired him, but reassure me the man doesn’t have two heads.’ It was the first recruitment Sam hadn’t handled personally, and it felt uncomfortable.

‘One head. Kind of good-looking too, if you like your man on the macho side.’

‘Which I don’t.’ Her ex had been classically handsome. Considering what a shit he’d turned out to be though, maybe it was time to change type.

‘Me neither, but some women go for it.’ Becky liked them lean, artistic and tortured. Men she could try and fix, like the bartender-come-wannabe-drummer she was currently dating. ‘Aside from being macho and unimpressed that I was interviewing him instead of you, he was fine. He didn’t smile much, actually scratch that, he didn’t smile at all, but Hank had warned me he was a bit on the dour side.’ Hank was Becky’s brother, and he also happened to be the man who’d suggested the guy to them.

‘Remind me again how he lost his job? He was fired for what, exactly?’

‘Officially for refusing to toe the company line. Unofficially, Hank said he point-blank refused to work on the next project they assigned him.’

‘Because?’ Becky loved to tease. To draw out a story. Probably because she knew it drove Sam crazy.

Becky grinned. ‘Because he believed it was morally wrong. It was some sort of gambling app. According to Hank, he went apeshit, said he didn’t agree with the concept and he wasn’t having anything to do with it.’

Sam winced. Not that she didn’t admire the guy’s stance, but there were better, more constructive ways to say no than going apeshit. ‘Well, I hope your Hank’s right about him being a genius, because he sounds like a handful to work with.’

‘Chill. He’s on a three-month probation, so we can kick him out if he’s a nightmare. Hank did say he’s the best he’s ever worked with though, and considering Hank always told me he thought he was the best, that’s saying something.’

They needed the best, Sam thought grimly. For eighteen months, the development team had been working on an update to the Privacy app and getting nowhere. Now it was crunch time. Sam couldn’t be sure, but best guess was they had three months to get the modified app out before their rival hit the markets. And by rival, read bitter enemy. And by crunch time, read if they failed, the company was finished, investors lost their money. Everyone lost their jobs.

The heartburn that had begun a month ago flared again, leaving a sharp, burning pain in her chest. Automatically she reached for the antacids in her bag. As she chewed on one, both of their phones buzzed with an identical message.

Becky got to hers first. ‘Well, look at that. Our new employee may lack people skills, but you can’t fault his timekeeping. That’s Kerry to say he’s arrived and is sitting in reception.’

Kerry was their sweet, slightly ditzy office manager. She’d been with them eighteen months and what she lacked in common sense, she made up for in her sunny, happy-to-do-anything-asked-of-her nature. Of course, her predecessor had been very accommodating too. In fact, she’d bent over backwards to help, literally. As Sam could testify.

Grimly she shook the unhelpful thought away. ‘Great. Let’s go and meet him.’

As they stood, Becky gave her a stern look. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve turned into a Rennies addict. You need to decrease your stress levels.’

Sam gave her what she hoped was a bright smile. ‘Worry not. That’s exactly what Ryan Black is here to do.’

They walked together towards the reception, a funky space with modern black leather sofas, steel desk and original brickwork. As her eyes glanced towards the man sitting down, Sam careered to a halt, her stress levels going through the roof. This had to be some sort of joke. The guy slouched on the sofa, wearing dark-blue jeans, a familiar brown leather jacket and even more familiar scowl, couldn’t be the guy she’d just hired.

Could he?

‘That’s …’ Adrenaline, mixed with dread, had turned her voice scratchy so she tried again. ‘That’s Ryan Black?’

Becky looked at her oddly. ‘Yes. Why, do you know him?’

I know the sounds he makes when he’s having sex. The expression on his face when he comes. Shit, shit, shit. ‘I might have had a one-night stand last night with a guy I met in the bar. And he might have looked exactly like the guy sitting over there.’

Becky’s heavy black eyebrows shot into her blue hairline. ‘Holy shit. There’s so much I need to ask you right now.’

‘Later.’ Sam’s heart was beating so erratically, she thought she might faint. ‘For now, you need to focus on telling me how to play this. Pretend I can’t remember any of it? Laugh it off, like I often hire men I’ve had sleazy one-night stands with?’ Hysteria threatened as she felt a totally inappropriate desire to laugh. For the love of God, how was she supposed to look him in the eye, to command his respect, knowing he’d seen her naked only a few hours ago. And knowing she’d picked him up.

She wasn’t meant to see this guy ever again. Yet by some cruel twist of fate here he was, sitting large as life in the Privacy Solutions foyer.

Ryan Black chose that moment to look up. And catch her eye.

For fuck’s sake. Ryan blinked and sat bolt upright. No, he hadn’t dozed off into some weird fantasy land. Drunk girl from the bar was walking towards him. Taking in a deep breath, he ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach and told himself it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Sure, it was never ideal to work in the same company as a woman you’d had a drunken one-night stand with but hey, they’d had a good time. At least he had. Hell, she’d asked him to stay for more when he’d been about to leave, so she can’t have hated it. Regretted it, probably, but that was on her. He’d been very careful to make sure it had been her choice.

As the shock receded and his brain started to function, he consoled himself with the thought that she might not even work for Privacy Solutions – and yeah, that wasn’t a company name he was going to be shouting out very often. She might just be visiting her odd, blue-haired friend. Becky, the marketing director who stood in for her boss when the man couldn’t be arsed turning up. Ryan was looking forward to meeting this Sam Huxton bloke and finding out if he really was as much of a tosser as he expected him to be. In Ryan’s experience, small tech company bosses were shiny-suited upstarts who thought they could make a quick buck by starting a company and selling it on. Usually by using their trust fund, or their mate’s trust fund.

As the unlikely pair walked towards him – one with red hair, one with blue: if they stood with the dizzy blonde who’d introduced herself as office manager, they’d have a flag going on – Ryan rose to his feet. It wasn’t manners. More a determination to use his height to send a message. We slept together. So what.

Champagne Lady seemed calm and collected as she stopped in front of him but when she held her hand out to him it trembled slightly. Good. ‘You must be Ryan Black.’ Her lips formed a small, wry smile. ‘I feel like we’ve met before.’

As he gave her hand a brief shake, he cursed that he was as attracted to her now as he had been last night. That wide mouth, the red hair, those magnificent blue eyes. And that’s without factoring in the mind-blowing curves he knew lay beneath the cream trousers and soft pink jumper she wore. ‘If we had, I’d remember.’ He stared right back at her, pleased with his equally enigmatic reply. Words weren’t his thing. Give him numbers, code, and he was frigging eloquent. Make him talk, or write, and he felt dumb as shit.

‘Yes. I imagine a meeting between us would be memorable.’ She drew in a breath. ‘Welcome to Privacy Solutions. I’m Sam Huxton.’

WTF? He felt his legs give way and he took an involuntary step back, bumping his calf against the chair. ‘You’re Sam Huxton,’ he repeated dumbly, his mind deciding to really crap on the moment by replaying an image from last night. Her naked, on her bed. Him leaning over her, sliding into her.

‘I am.’

It hadn’t been a question, but he was grateful for her reply, even if it did confirm his fears, because it gave him another two seconds to try and unscramble his messy, wayward, frozen head. ‘And you didn’t turn up to the interview because …’ Belatedly, stupidly, he remembered exactly why not.

‘I had a family emergency.’ Her eyes flickered away from his and he knew she was remembering telling him all about dear old Grumps. ‘But you met Becky, our marketing director.’

‘Yeah.’ He nodded to the blue-haired goth, wondering if she felt the tension – both sexual and otherwise – that was pinging between him and Sam … fuck, between him and the CEO … like a pinball on acid.

‘Right, I’ll leave you both to it,’ Becky said with a smirk, and Ryan couldn’t be sure if it was because she knew what had gone down between him and Sam, or if she was just very good at reading minds.

As soon as she was out of earshot, all the angst, the shock, the mortification of having slept with his boss – his frigging boss – exploded inside him. ‘Look, Champagne Lady—’

‘Sam.’

Why did she look and sound so cool when he was a melting pot of jumbled emotions? ‘Sam,’ he said tightly, the word feeling like a sharp stone on his tongue. For Christ’s sake, why hadn’t he asked her name yesterday? ‘I can see why you want to brush last night under the carpet. Trust me, in hindsight it wasn’t my finest hour, either.’ He’d had sex with the boss woman. His mind was stuck on the words. How did he move forward from this? Bad enough when he’d thought she was a co-worker, but oh no, Champagne Lady wasn’t just that. She owned the company he’d signed a contract to work for.

Godammit, she owned him, because he couldn’t walk out. He needed the job, and the money, too badly. Who else was going to take on a guy who’d been fired from his last company?

‘We’re both adults.’ Her smile was polite and professional. Nothing like the sexy, teasing one she’d directed his way most of yesterday evening. ‘We can put last night behind us and move on.’

It irked him that she was handling this way better than he was. He wanted to be the detached one. The one able to coolly dismiss the previous evening, as if it had hardly registered as an event at all.

Not the one who couldn’t stop thinking about every blasted second of it.

Not the one who wanted nothing more right now than to drag her out of this squeaky-clean office, mess up her tidy hair, yank off her neat jumper and do very dirty things to her.

‘Fine.’ He leant forward, eyes blazing into hers. ‘But know this. I remember every single moment. How you look naked. How your eyes glazed over when I thrust into you. And I know you do, too.’ With that he took a deliberate step back and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘How about you show me where I’ll be working?’

Chapter 5

Sam blinked, hating the arousal she felt at the memories Ryan’s words evoked. But he wasn’t the only one who could play at mind games. Screwing up her courage, she took a step forward so that once again they were eye to eye. Heaving chest to heaving chest.

‘You’re right. I remember exactly what went on last night, too.’ She tried to curl her lips into a smirk. ‘Think on that, when I’m doing your performance review.’ As a satisfying flush crept up his neck she stepped back, like he had, and pasted a sickly-sweet smile on her face. ‘I’m going to hand you back to Kerry now. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to give you a quick tour of the place and show you to your workstation. I’ll catch up with you later.’ When I’ve finished my more important tasks.

He must have read her subtext, because the flush on his face deepened. And God, this bitch wasn’t her, but she didn’t know how else to deal with him. Why hadn’t he taken her lead and chosen the civilised, professional way out; ignore, ignore, ignore? Why had he not only acknowledged the elephant in the room, but shoved it right under her nose?

Leaving him fuming – he obviously hadn’t mastered the art of hiding his feelings – she strode sharply over to Kerry. ‘Would you do me a favour and show the new guy round? I’m swamped after being off last week.’ It wasn’t a lie, though usually she was the one who did the tour, combining it with an introductory pep talk on the philosophy of the company. That would have to come later, when she didn’t feel the need to knee him in the balls. And then kiss him. Heavens above, why did she still want to do that?

‘No problem, Sam.’ Kerry glanced over to Ryan and giggled. ‘No problem at all.’

‘Kerry.’ She wanted to warn her off, but what could she say? He’s great in bed, but seems a total prick out of it? Or worse, and perhaps even closer to the truth: I might not want him, but I can’t stand the thought of him with anyone else just yet?

‘What?’

Sam sighed. ‘Nothing. Just, be careful.’

Kerry burst out laughing. ‘Don’t you worry about me. Look, don’t touch, right? I’m not daft enough to come on to a guy from work.’ She waggled her eyebrows. ‘Even someone as tasty as him.’

And that, Sam thought despairingly, just about said it all. For the millionth time since she’d seen Ryan Black sitting in the foyer, she cursed her champagne-addled hormones.

Still feeling dazed, Sam walked slowly back to her desk. Usually when she was in the office her mind buzzed, but now it was stuck on last night. Please God it was nothing that a strong coffee wouldn’t fix.

She’d barely stepped into her office, mug in hand, when Becky hurtled in behind her and shut the door. ‘Spill.’

Sam glanced down. ‘The coffee?’

Becky hissed. ‘I want details. For eighteen months, I’ve been telling you to put Douchebag Damien behind you and get out there again, but you’ve been oh no, I hate men, I’m never doing that again, I’m perfectly happy being single.’ In what Sam presumed was supposed to be an imitation of her, Becky swished back her non-existent hair and pouted. ‘And now I hear that you did the dirty with a guy and didn’t even find out his name.’

Sam winced. The stupid thing was, if fate had been kinder, if Ryan Black had been confined to a naughty memory, only to be replayed when she needed a dose of feeling like a woman and not a CEO, she’d have felt liberated by her decision. Not flattened by it. ‘Kind of badass, huh?’

Becky’s eyes widened. Then she burst out laughing. ‘Is this the new you then?’

‘Of course, because it’s worked out so well for me, don’t you think?’ Letting out a pained groan, Sam buried her face in her hands. ‘Oh God, I’m not sure I can do this.’ Lifting her head up, she eyed Becky hopefully. ‘How about we get rid of him and find someone else?’ Becky wasn’t just marketing director, she was also their nominated HR person.

‘Sure, boss, as long as you don’t mind if it takes more time than we can afford, because not only will we have to find a brilliant software developer with the right skillset to achieve in a few months what our previous guy couldn’t do in eighteen, he or she will have to work their notice. Not everyone is available straight away like Black.’

‘Because he got fired.’

‘True, but it wasn’t for reasons that concern us.’ Becky sighed. ‘Look, it’s your call, but you’re the one who told me how desperately we need to get the modifications to the app done and launched before they do.’

‘I know.’ Sam straightened up, took in a breath and had a quick slug of coffee. ‘Okay, I can do this. It was one dumb night. I’m not going to let it interfere with the chance of keeping this company ahead of the game. It’s not like either of us want a repeat.’

Becky studied her with narrowed eyes. ‘You’re sure about that? There must have been something about the guy that got through the solid concrete wall you usually put up to ward off men.’

The dark eyes, brooding expression, big, hulking presence? Was she really that shallow? ‘Whatever it was, daylight and a hangover have successfully obliterated it.’ And she was a total liar. She’d still felt a pulse of arousal when he’d shaken her hand. Her stomach had still dipped when he’d crudely reminded her what they’d done together.

‘I don’t know.’ Becky looked like she didn’t believe her. ‘He’s not my type, but even I can see he’s got something. And the only drink I’ve had is raspberry tea.’

‘I’ll never understand how you can swallow that stuff.’ When Becky just looked at her, Sam knew she wasn’t going to be let off the hook that easily. ‘Look, I’ll admit he’s attractive, and last night, after the week I’d had, his sullen, I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude was just what I needed.’ He’d also been considerate, she remembered. Chivalrous almost, in the way he’d taken care of her. Very different to the man she’d just faced. ‘Trust me when I say: the only thing I want from him now is the bit between his ears. So, if he really is the genius software developer your brother claims, I’ll happily fix a smile on my face and be a good boss.’ The company was her priority right now and everything else, including her pride, would have to take a running jump.

‘Understood.’ Becky turned to walk out. Just before she opened the door, she glanced over her shoulder. ‘Do me a favour and satisfy my curiosity. The part between his legs. How good was he at using it, exactly?’

Sam spluttered out a laugh. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ When Becky raised her eyebrows and gave her a cheeky grin, Sam gave in. ‘Put it this way, if he’s as good with the part between his ears, we’ll be okay.’

Ryan dumped his rucksack onto his new desk and gave the blonde – Kerry – a half-hearted smile. ‘Thanks.’

She smiled brightly. ‘No problem. Hopefully you’ve got everything you need. If there’s anything we’ve forgotten though, just shout. I mean, not literally, obviously, but you can call me, or, you know, just walk around the corner.’ She mimed walking with her fingers, clearly not aware he could actually understand English. Then she pointed the twenty or so yards over to where she sat. The same place she’d also pointed out to him five minutes ago.

‘Got it.’

‘Okay then.’ She smiled again. It was like her face couldn’t do anything else. ‘Well, I’ll let you know when Sam’s free to see you.’

But she didn’t move; just stood there, shifting from foot to foot, staring at him. ‘Was there something else?’

Her smile slipped a little, possibly because he’d let his irritation show in his voice. ‘Oh, no, it’s all good.’ She gave him a daft little wave. ‘Well, have a good day. I hope you enjoy working for Privacy Solutions. The people here are so lovely. It’s like a family, you know?’

Good God. Next she was going to tell him they all met up for Sunday lunch and had sing-songs round the piano.

Because he didn’t have a clue how to reply to her, he muttered another thanks, relieved when she finally took the hint and walked away.

Sighing deeply, he slumped onto his chair and took a minute, a very vital minute, to rub a hand over his face and curse. What the hell had he got himself into? A boss he’d somehow managed to sleep with, and a firm the staff thought was like a family. For a man who didn’t mix well, who liked to keep himself to himself, it felt like he’d landed in purgatory.

Taking a few deep breaths, he forced himself to sit up straight. There was no point getting all narked about things. He had a job, didn’t he? Well, as long as Huxton didn’t throw him out. She could hardly do that because of what he’d done before he officially started though. Could she?

Crap, this is why one-night stands were a stupid frigging idea. Now she had him by the balls and he had no choice but to suck it up.

He spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon trying to get a feel for the size of the problem he’d been tasked with fixing. Well, he and some junior programmer called Alice who kept asking him if he needed anything. If Huxton only employed people who had smiling as their default face, he was going to be kicked out by the end of the day.

Suddenly the smell of something expensive and elegant wafted up his nostrils.

‘I’m free to see you now.’

He turned round with a start. ‘Should I tug my forelock?’

Sam gave him a cool smile. ‘Only if you want to.’

You need the blasted job. Giving her a sharp nod, he stood, glad that he could at least look down on her physically, even if in every other area she held all the cards.

He followed her to her office, keeping his eyes firmly on the back of her head, and not where they wanted to drift. No doubt she’d seek a reason to boot him out as soon as possible. He was damned if he was going to make it easy for her.

Her office was small and unassuming. It backed onto the original brickwork, the other three walls being made of glass; the bottom part frosted, the top clear. More of a meeting room, he sensed, from the lack of anything personal in it. She pointed to a chair and he dropped into it, feeling a creeping sense of dread as she slowly walked round her shiny modern desk to sit opposite him.

‘Are you firing me?’ he blurted into the oppressive silence, then cursed himself for sounding so desperate.

‘Have you given me cause to?’ she shot back.

He hissed in a breath at her sharpness. ‘I’ve not had a chance to read your rules. Do they prohibit sleeping with the boss, before you knew she was the boss?’

Those huge blue eyes flashed at him. ‘Your contract with us started this morning. I suggest you read it carefully. If you stick to the terms of the agreement, and perform as we’d expect, I won’t have a reason to fire you.’

Sarky responses bombarded his brain. You can already vouch for my performance. Painfully he swallowed them down, along with his pride. ‘Understood.’

‘Good.’ She did something weird then. She smiled at him. Not one of the cute, tipsy smiles from last night; this was strained, as if it was a real effort. But it was a vast improvement on the snottily polite stuff she’d thrown at him earlier. ‘I’d like to officially welcome you to Privacy Solutions, Ryan.’ His name sounded odd on her tongue. As if she was speaking to a friend, which he knew he’d never be, not by any definition of the word. ‘As you’ve probably already seen, we’re a small company but we have high ambitions and a big heart. Our philosophy is one team, one mission, one heart.’

Not the time to snigger, but seriously, one frigging heart?

‘Problem?’

‘Nope.’ Those eyes held his and he found it hard to ignore their quiet demand. ‘Look, it’s just a bit happy, clappy, skipping with daisy chains for me. I’m more: rely on nobody, nobody lets you down.’

‘That’s rather sad, don’t you think?’ Her wide mouth curved. ‘Though the image of you skipping with daisy chains is certainly an interesting one.’

‘Yeah?’ Frustratingly, her smile still did things to him. ‘I don’t make a habit of it.’

For a brief moment some of the warmth from last night drifted between them, along with the pulsing attraction. But then she looked away and pasted that professional look back on her face. ‘The Privacy Solutions mission is to be the go-to company for your online privacy concerns. We were the first to show you who’s storing information on you. Now we want to be the first to go further and let you see not only the who, but the what. Who has your data, and what data they have.’ She met his gaze head on. ‘If you don’t think that’s something you can do, I need to know now.’

He didn’t flinch. She might have him by his balls, but his ego was alive and kicking. ‘You want me to do that in, what, six months?’ he hazarded, remembering the blue-haired goth had told him at the interview timelines were tight. Six months was definitely that.

‘Three.’

Panic slithered through him, coiling round his insides. Three was his probation period. The glint in her eyes told him she knew it too, and he could almost feel her grip on his balls tightening. ‘Fine.’ He stared her down. ‘You want me to achieve in three months what your last software developer failed to sort in eighteen.’

‘Yes.’

Translation. He had three months to achieve the impossible, or he was out on his ear. He forced his mouth into a cocky smile. ‘Piece of cake.’

‘Good.’ She leant back in her chair, a picture of cool sophistication. He hated that he still found her unbelievably sexy. Hated that despite the grip she had on his balls, the power she wielded over him, he’d like nothing better tonight than a repeat performance. ‘I admire confidence, as long it’s backed by results.’

‘And I’m up for a challenge, as long as I’m not being shafted.’

He’d never know what her comeback would have been because at that moment there was a cursory knock on the door and a tall blond guy wearing a foul citrus-green shirt strode in. ‘Darling, you’re back.’ He stopped short when he noticed she had company. ‘Oh, my bad. I didn’t realise you were giving our new boy a grilling.’

Every single one of Ryan’s heckles rose – new he could handle but our boy, and grilling, like he was some sort of wayward kid they’d taken in off the streets? She must sense his irritation, too, because those freaky eyes of hers looked like were laughing at him.

Camp lime-green guy was either oblivious or in on the joke. ‘You must be the software whizz-kid Becky’s been warning me about.’ He gave Ryan a careful study before sticking out his hand. ‘Lucas Baker.’

‘Ryan Black.’ Expecting something limp and clammy, Ryan was surprised to find his hand gripped in a firm, confident handshake.

‘Lucas is our design director,’ Sam added and yes, that half-smile was still on her lips as she watched him quickly extract his hand.

‘Pleased to meet you, Ryan Black. You need me for anything’ – the look Lucas gave him from his glittering blue eyes was loaded with innuendo – ‘anything at all, just shout.’

Ryan willed himself to hold his gaze and not to flush. He was pretty certain the guy was messing with him, but it didn’t stop him feeling acutely uncomfortable. Or exhaling with relief when Lucas turned his eyes back on Sam.

‘Should I pop back later, sweet cheeks?’

And yeah, there was definitely a joke going on between the pair of them. Sam was clearly trying hard not to laugh.

Ryan shot to his feet. Stuff this shit. He wasn’t going to sit around being the butt of their jokes. ‘No need. We’re done.’ Giving them both a stiff nod, he headed smartly for the door. Call him paranoid, but he was pretty certain he could hear laughter before they shut the door.

Chapter 6

Sam rolled her eyes at Lucas as he gracefully slid into the chair opposite her.

‘Sweet cheeks?’

He grinned unapologetically. ‘I wanted to see how he’d react.’

Lucas was handsome, openly gay and a total flirt. He was also fiercely loyal, an astute judge of character and the best app designer Sam had ever come across. ‘And?’

‘Fair play, he looked more annoyed than horrified. He didn’t back down from the Baker stare, either.’ His eyes lit up. ‘Maybe that hunk of manhood swings my way.’

Sam opened her mouth to tell him otherwise, then thought better of it. Bad enough Becky knew her embarrassing secret. If Lucas got an inkling she’d slept with that hunk of manhood, she’d never hear the end of it. ‘I don’t care which way he swings, as long as he can do what we hired him for.’ She rubbed at her forehead, trying to ease the thumping headache. That would teach her to drink on a school night. ‘Did you waltz in here just to cop a look at the new guy, or was there something else you wanted?’

Lucas tipped back his head and laughed. ‘The first, obviously. But as I’m here, remember we’ve got a meeting at 3pm to get the scrumptious Mr Black up to speed with where we are with the Privacy 2 app.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten.’

He grinned, dramatically uncrossing his legs. ‘Then my work here is done.’

As he strolled out, thankfully closing the door behind him, Sam sank back against her chair. Torture, that’s how this day felt. Discovering she’d employed the man she’d supposedly had anonymous sex with last night, on top of a backlog of work, thanks to her few days away. All served with a humdinger of a hangover. Yep, today officially sucked. And she still had a meeting to get through. With her not so anonymous one-night stand.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she recalled the look on his face when he’d asked if she was going to fire him. Desperate. He’d covered it quickly enough, but that glimpse of vulnerability had shown her that despite how unbalanced she felt, she was actually the one in control, the one with all the power. The realisation wasn’t pleasant. It felt even less pleasant when she imagined how she’d feel if it had been the other way round. If she’d found herself working for a guy she’d unwittingly slept with.

It brought a new level of shame to her earlier comment about his performance review. Sure he’d been crass, but she’d managed to out-crass him.

Now it was up to her to put them back on the right footing and treat him like she would any new employee. It meant wiping all memories of last night from her mind, including the reasons she’d found him attractive.

Piece of cake. And no, she didn’t have an image in her head of him saying those exact words a moment ago. His full lips curving in that sexy half-smile, half-smirk.

Ryan Black was the only one in the meeting room. Sam slowed as she neared it, watching him through the glass wall. He was leaning forward, those big shoulders slightly hunched as he looked down at his phone. Ordinary hair. And a crooked nose. Not much to go gaga about really.

Just then he looked up. As his dark gaze snared hers, her stomach flipped over and she swallowed to try and quell the jitters.

‘First one here, I see.’ A statement of the bleeding obvious. Clearly her wit had deserted her.

There was that more-smirk-than-smile again. ‘Didn’t want to get in trouble with the boss.’

Her heart was beating far too fast for someone trying to convince herself he held zero interest for her. ‘Good idea. I hear she’s a real tyrant.’

They shared a look of quiet amusement which immediately took Sam back to last night, and the way they’d seemed to click, even though they were so totally different.

Memories she needed to wipe out.

His gaze lingered on hers before darkening as it dropped to her mouth. ‘Shit, Champagne Lady. How the hell did this happen?’

Her heart bumped against her ribs. ‘I’m not sure.’ Where had her real voice gone, and what was this breathy replacement? ‘In hindsight, maybe I should have checked your ID, after all.’

‘You think?’ Shaking his head, he cursed before aiming those eloquent dark eyes back in her direction. ‘I can’t scrub it from my databank. I want to, but I can’t.’

The intensity of his gaze made her legs tremble and as heat pooled between them, she sank gratefully into the nearest chair. What the hell she could say to that?

‘Sorry we’re late.’ She’d never been more grateful to hear Lucas’s voice. ‘Becks insisted on grabbing me a mochaccino.’

‘As if.’ Becky’s eyes bounced between her and Ryan, widening as they landed back on hers.

Lucas also paused for a moment before, thank God, expounding on where they could find the best mochaccino. As he continued to talk, Becky slipped onto the chair next to her. A few seconds later, she pushed a note pad towards her. Sam quickly glanced at the words.

Sexual tension is bouncing off the walls. Should we leave??

Horrified, Sam wrote back in big, shouty capitals: DON’T YOU BLOODY DARE.

‘Oh dear, am I late?’ Alice, the junior programmer, bounded in, blonde hair bouncing in her ponytail. She’d joined them straight out of university, nearly nine months ago now. Sam had liked her attitude at the interview: confident, not afraid to ask questions. Keen to learn. ‘Totally my fault. There was me, so focused on the code I was working on I forgot to check the time.’ She laughed, rolling her eyes and looking her age. Twenty-two. ‘I guess only Ryan would understand how much those sneaky codes can suck you in.’

Ryan’s face, as Alice sat down beside him, was a picture; the tight smile, the small shake of the head. Yep, he was definitely wondering how on earth he was going to work with her. The man would be useless at poker.

‘No problem, Alice. We hadn’t started.’ Sam nodded over to Lucas. ‘Lucas suggested we have this meeting to give Ryan some background to the Privacy 2 app. What we’re trying to achieve, what we’ve agreed so far and where we’re at.’ She forced herself to look at Ryan. ‘Feel free to barrage us with questions as we go through.’

He nodded once, which she guessed was all the thanks they were going to get.

‘I’ll start by talking through the aim of the Privacy app in general, and then Becky will go through the modifications the market is looking for, and Lucas will share where we’ve got to on the design for the mark 2. Finally, Alice will discuss some of the technical issues she and your predecessor have come up against.’

Silence. She was used to chat, to animated meetings, but Ryan’s quiet, sullen presence had clearly rubbed off on everyone. As her eyes skimmed over him, she wondered if he was looking at her as the CEO. Or the woman he’d had sex with multiple times last night.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. Hastily she reached for her water and took a few sips. ‘Okey-dokey, so, the Privacy app.’

Ryan watched Sam, but he didn’t listen. Not because he didn’t care, but because he’d already read up on the mark 2 app this morning. He might have slept with his boss, but he wasn’t totally unprofessional.

Reluctantly – she was far too easy to look at – he dragged his eyes away.

‘Anything you need clarification on so far?’

At her cool tone, he snapped his head up. ‘You and some bloke came up with the whole Privacy app idea. He developed it, you marketed it. Purpose was to show punters which firms held data on them. Now you want to take it to the next level, but you and he had a bust-up and the guy you employed after him was a dud, so that’s where I come in.’

Surprise shot across her face and he inwardly high-fived himself. If she was trying to catch him out, she’d have to do better than that. He’d researched not just the app, but the company. He might not know why her business partner – Damien Lynch – had left, but he sure as hell knew it hadn’t been as simple as she’d painted it, a disagreement on the future direction of the company. Yeah, right. He disagreed with their cheesy company motto: one team, one … something, one frigging heart. Didn’t mean he was going to waltz out and set up a rival company just to piss her off.

‘Thank you for the … interesting summary.’ The way she said it, so controlled, so collected, both annoyed and impressed him. With one final assessing look in his direction, she swung those big eyes towards her blue-haired mate. ‘Becky, please can you remind us, and enlighten Ryan, about what the market is hoping for with the mark 2 version?’

‘Sure, boss.’

Ryan saw the look that passed between the pair of them. He’d bet his first pay packet that Sam had told her friend all about last night. Prickles of discomfort travelled down his back at the thought of them having a laugh at his expense. His chat-up line was awful, something about wanting to know if my bedroom was as much of a dive as his was. Oh, and did I tell you, he struggled to find a condom?

The prickles turned into an angry flush. Damn it, he needed to focus on the meeting. Last night hadn’t happened. That’s how she was playing it, and he needed to learn the same game.

‘Basically, what the research is saying is that users love what the app can do, and they’re excited about the possibility of it being able to do more. Like show them not only which companies hold personal data on them but what information is being held. They also want a simpler registration process with fewer inputs.’ Becky shifted her gaze to him. ‘That’s why Lucas has been working on a much more streamlined design for the mark 2. But I’ll leave him to talk about that.’

Ryan shifted on his chair, belatedly realising he’d missed something vital in what Becky had been saying. ‘Wait. What do you mean, fewer inputs?’

Becky heaved out a sigh. ‘If you’d been listening, you’d know. Users don’t want the hassle of putting all the information in about the various social media sites they use. They just want to put in the basics; name, address, date of birth, email.’

He sat up bolt upright. ‘You’re seriously going to tell me you guys are trying to get this mark 2 app to do what it did before, and more, but with less input?’

Becky looked at Lucas, and then at Sam, who both nodded. ‘Yes. That’s what the market wants.’

He started to laugh. ‘Yeah, right. I bet they want spray that makes them invisible and chocolate with no calories. Doesn’t mean they’re going to get it.’

Becky’s eyes flashed at him. ‘We need to respond to market needs, or they’ll go elsewhere.’

‘You mean to this rival you’re all so worried about.’

‘You should be worried about it too,’ Sam cut in. ‘Unless you’ve got another job lined up already?’ She gave him one of those cutting looks she was so good at. All calm and in charge, blue eyes as cool as an Icelandic lake.

‘Okay, point taken.’ He took a moment to breathe. To remind himself this was just a business meeting. So what if they were taking the piss out of him behind his back. Wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced that before. ‘My point still stands. No way can all this be done. Not by me, not by another software developer. Not by your rival.’

‘Sebastian said it could.’ Sam arched an eyebrow. ‘He was the man you replaced.’

‘Sebastian clearly enjoyed blowing smoke up your arse.’

‘Sebastian was a friend.’ Seems it was Lucas’s turn to give Ryan the evil eye. ‘And he was a very fine software developer who saw what was needed and was keen to help. A real team player.’

Ryan tried to ignore the dig. Since being a teenager, he’d become used to being the outsider. The one people didn’t like. He’d learnt to develop a tough skin. ‘So keen he left?’

Yep, they were all looking daggers at him now. Even smiley-face Alice.

Sam cleared her throat. ‘Sebastian didn’t choose to go. I asked him if he was able to complete the upgrade within the next few months. He said he wasn’t and agreed to leave so we could find someone who could.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘I understood you were that person.’

He might not be great with words, or manners and niceties, but Ryan knew software, particularly app development. He knew what was possible and what was not. And he knew he was bloody good at his job. ‘I can make your app for you in three months. What I can’t do is the impossible. Doesn’t matter how brilliant you are, you can’t programme an app to find data, if you don’t give it enough information to tell it where to look. At least not accurately, which I assume is the most important consideration. The simplified input idea will have to go.’ He jerked his head towards Becky-blue-hair and Lucas-citrus-shirt. ‘These guys are living in cloud cuckoo land.’

‘Now wait a—’

‘How dare you—’

‘Ryan,’ Sam’s voice cut through whatever crap they were about to throw at him. ‘A word in private. Please.’

She stood up smoothly and walked towards the door, not once looking in his direction. Like a kid being summoned to see the headmaster, he followed her.

Once in her office, she indicated for him to sit down. Then flashed her blue eyes at him. ‘We work as a team here. We’re polite to each other and treat everyone with respect.’

He shrugged, trying to act indifferent. As if she wasn’t making him feel two foot small. ‘You’re paying me to develop your app. Not make friends.’

‘Seems to me you’re not prepared to do either.’

Ouch. He was really cocking this up. Then again, that respect thing went both ways. ‘Don’t think you respected my privacy much when you told Becky about last night.’

Sam froze, a satisfying flush creeping over her cheeks. ‘Okay, you’re right.’ She rubbed at her forehead, as if she had a headache. He guessed gallons of champagne could do that. ‘I was so shocked to see you this morning, I just blurted it out. Becky isn’t only my marketing director, you see, she’s my best friend. We tell each other things.’ Her eyes met his and for the first time that day he saw the woman, not the company CEO. ‘But I apologise if it’s made you feel awkward. If it helps, she’ll keep it to herself. And the awkwardness goes both ways.’

He could see she was genuinely sorry. Still, she wasn’t the one having the piss taken out of her behind her back. Saying that would be admitting he cared though, and he’d far rather people believed he didn’t give a rat’s arse what was being said about him. ‘Apology accepted. But back to your issue. You don’t need a genius app developer. You need someone not afraid to tell you what can and can’t be done. Either your Sebastian guy was too terrified of you to say no, or he wanted in your pants.’ She blinked, and he wondered if she was just realising something about dear Sebastian. ‘Yeah, exactly. As you seem about as scary as a toothless wombat, I’m going with the second idea.’

She blinked several times before leaping to her feet, and this time she didn’t seem quite so collected. ‘We should rejoin the others to discuss next steps. And what can be done.’

‘Happy to. Luckily you don’t scare me.’ He smirked. ‘And I’ve already been in your pants.’

She paused and then surprised him by smiling, even if it did look forced. ‘Considering your earlier point about me not respecting your privacy, I’ll let that slide, but now we’re even.’ The smile slipped. ‘Take another cheap shot, and you’re out.’

With a toss of that glorious red hair, she marched out ahead of him. He almost remembered to keep his eyes on the back of her head. Almost.

Chapter 7

‘The guy’s a jerk.’

Two weeks into Ryan Black’s employment, and he was still creating waves. Unsurprisingly, Lucas was the one moaning about him today. He was also the one who needed to work the closest with Ryan at the moment.

‘I know he is.’ And boy, did she. Sure, there were moments when those eyes watched her, and Sam felt the rush of arousal. Moments when his dour expression lifted, bringing a small curve to his annoyingly sensuous lips. On those occasions, she felt the powerful attraction that had led her to invite a stranger back to her apartment. Thankfully for her equilibrium, the moments were few and far between.

‘This isn’t what we’ve been working towards for all these months.’

Sam sighed as Lucas pouted at her. Yep, the guy could put on one heck of a pout. ‘I know. But if Ryan’s to be believed, some of what we’ve been working towards has been the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Shiny and gorgeous but totally unattainable.’

‘You trust his judgement over Sebastian’s?’

Sam felt a ripple of unease as snippets of conversation with Ryan’s predecessor wormed their way into her consciousness. The flirting she’d thought was just part of Sebastian’s character. The looks she’d chosen to ignore, thinking she’d just been imagining things. Had Ryan been right? Sebastian certainly hadn’t been scared of her, so had he tried to do the impossible just to impress her? And if so, how had she not seen that? Was her judgement now totally flawed? ‘I know Ryan isn’t likeable, but we have it on good authority that he’s one of the top developers in his field.’ Thankfully not her assessment this time, but that of Becky’s brother. ‘I can’t see why a person like that, who’s clearly well aware how good he is, would say streamlining the input to the app can’t be done, if it can.’

Lucas let out a dramatic sigh and crossed one pink-chino-clad leg over the other. ‘I guess you’re right. Cocky sod like him wouldn’t like to admit he’s beaten.’

‘So will you work with him, please?’ She gave Lucas her most endearing smile. ‘You know how important the next few months are. For better or for worse, we’re stuck with relying on Ryan Black to develop Privacy 2. If the company is to succeed, we need him working with us.’

‘I’m not the one with the issue, sweet cheeks.’ When she narrowed her eyes, he gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll go and play nice, though he’s the one who keeps telling me to piss off when I try and connect with him.’

Suddenly she became aware of Ryan standing in the doorway. The unfortunately open doorway. ‘Having fun talking about me?’

Though his expression was one of careful uninterest, his eyes flashed with a … resigned anger, if there was such a thing. It was as if being talked about was nothing new to him. Desperately she thought back to what he might have overheard. I know Ryan isn’t likeable. He hadn’t been there since then, had he? She felt herself starting to blush, which worsened when she saw Lucas give her a speculative look.

Bollocks. She hated being shoved onto the back foot.

Lucas, thank God, spoke into the awkward silence. ‘I’m having more fun talking about you than I’ve had talking to you, sweetie.’ He swung round in his chair to face Ryan. ‘Not that I don’t think we could have fun together,’ he added. ‘But every time I try and speak to you, you cut me dead.’

Ryan let out a frustrated exhale. ‘It’s called concentrating, mate. You should try it some time.’

‘Enough.’ Sam threw up her hands. ‘Will the pair of you please sort your petty squabbles out privately? I’m rather busy here sorting out a presentation for our next investor meeting.’

Lucas immediately looked contrite. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll leave you to your important CEO stuff.’ He eased to his feet and headed for the door, flashing Ryan an overly friendly smile. ‘I’m sure Mr Black and I can sort out our differences over a cup of mochaccino.’

Ryan didn’t follow him out. Just watched cautiously as Lucas walked past him.

Sam’s pulse skittered. She’d carefully avoided being alone with him since that first day, but now her body seemed very aware that it was just the two of them. ‘Was there anything you needed me for?’

Ryan’s eyes were still on Lucas. ‘Anyone tell him he looks like a frigging watermelon?’

The comment was so unexpected, Sam wondered if she’d heard correctly. Then she clocked the departing view of Lucas’ pink trousers and green shirt and had to stifle a giggle. ‘I’m not sure telling him that will help your working relationship.’

‘Maybe not, but I can tell you what will.’ He turned back to her. ‘Find me an office, with a door I can lock.’

Sam sighed. Considering his closed personality, she could understand why he wanted it, but it went against what she was trying to achieve. How could they be a team if they worked behind closed doors? ‘We work in open plan here. I’m the only one with an office, and even then I only use it for meetings or when I’m working on something sensitive. Like now,’ she added pointedly.

He scowled. ‘I can’t work with fruit-features breathing down my neck every ten minutes.’

Anger zipped through her, and she jumped to her feet. ‘Take that back this instant. I won’t tolerate name calling—’

‘Relax.’ He cut her off, raising his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Words aren’t my strong suit. Neither are jokes, from the sound of things. I only meant fruit as in watermelon. Not, you know.’ Sighing deeply, he ran a hand down his face. ‘Look, I get it, you’re all used to working as a big, happy, smiley team, but it doesn’t work for me. I need quiet and space to think.’ He shoved a hand into the pocket of his habitual jeans. ‘I’m guessing you do want me to think?’

The anger drained from her and Sam slowly sank back into her chair. Homophobia was a big red flag for her, but a cussed nature she could handle. ‘Of course I want you to think. I also want you working as part of the team. It’s no good you building something that doesn’t fit into Lucas’s design.’

‘I can work with someone and not sit on his lap.’

So, he was cussed and stubborn. It was hardly a surprise. But as it was her job to keep him sweet, at least until they’d worked out if he was as good as was claimed, she plastered a smile on her face. ‘I can’t give you an office, but you can move your computer to a meeting room temporarily if you need to.’

‘Thanks.’

It wasn’t just the word that took her surprise, it was the relief on his face. Not I’ve won, but thank God. His request hadn’t been about one-upmanship, or arrogance, but about genuine need.

The tiny breakthrough gave her the motivation to stop him as he turned to leave. ‘About what you might have overheard.’

Ryan froze. In his experience, most people weren’t like him. They preferred to shove things they were embarrassed about under the carpet, not put them out there.

‘Yeah?’

‘I apologise. Lucas came here to vent and I was trying to support him, but in doing so I said things that were unprofessional.’

‘Was that the bit about me not being likeable, or you being stuck with me?’

Her eyes held his and she smiled. Actually frigging smiled. ‘Both?’

It was her sunshine smile, too. The one that lit up her face, shimmered through her eyes and was alarmingly infectious. Determined to remain unaffected by it, he lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. ‘Forget it. It’s nothing I’ve not heard before.’ He’d cut off his right arm before admitting how much the first comment had stung. He thought he’d got over being hurt by what people said behind his back, but maybe that was just people he hadn’t slept with.

‘Well, you shouldn’t have heard it from me.’

As he continued to hold her gaze, his control wavered. Whether it was the candour in those blue orbs or the tilt of her lips he didn’t know, but the need to kiss the woman who’d only moments ago said he wasn’t likeable became almost overwhelming. Shaking off his confused emotions, he walked towards the door. ‘Guess I’d better go and find Lucas. What the hell is a mochaccino anyway?’

‘A latte with added chocolate.’

He screwed his face up. ‘Not happening.’

He stepped out to the sound of her soft laughter. And the realisation that he was smiling.

The smile broadened when he caught sight of Lucas at the coffee machine. Christ. He was all for bucking convention but pink trousers and a green shirt? ‘I didn’t realise it was dress-as-a-fruit day today.’ Lucas’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and as he glared back at him, Ryan belatedly realised he’d used that word. Again. ‘What is it with you guys? Don’t you eat apples, oranges?’ He deliberately ran his eyes over Lucas’s attire. ‘Watermelons?’

Lucas frowned and looked down at what he was wearing, clearly unable to remember what he’d thrown on this morning. ‘The fruit dressed as a fruit?’

Ryan heaved out a sigh. This was why he avoided people. Why he needed to work alone. His social skills sucked. ‘Look, mate, I promise I was only thinking watermelon.’

For a few disconcerting moments, Lucas’s gaze seared through him. ‘You’re sure about that?’

‘You seriously think I give a flying fig who you sleep with?’

Finally, Lucas dropped his ready-to-strangle-him look. ‘Okay, darling, I believe you.’ He then proceeded to flash a smile that, if it had come from a woman, Ryan would have called downright flirtatious. ‘Do you like watermelons?’

Shit, where was he going with this now? ‘Sure. In a fruit salad.’

‘Umm, so you are partial to a bit of fruit then?’

As Lucas continued to smile at him, Ryan felt a blush creep up his neck. ‘Please tell me you’re not hitting on me.’

Lucas batted his eyelashes. Batted his damn eyelashes. ‘Do you want me to?’

‘Christ, no.’

While Ryan went all sorts of hot and cold, Lucas tipped his head back and roared with laughter. ‘I’m messing with you, Black.’ A sly smile flitted across his face. ‘I do have standards, you know.’

Relief made Ryan almost lightheaded. ‘Thank fuck for that.’ Once he’d stopped laughing, Lucas turned his attention back to the drinks machine and pressed a few buttons. Ryan watched with horror as an obscene amount of white frothy liquid spouted into a mug. ‘On the subject of standards, I never drink anything I can’t spell. I’ll stick to black coffee, thanks.’

Lucas pursed his lips. ‘Here was me thinking we were going to be friends.’

Ryan couldn’t see that happening if they were the only two left on the planet, but as he and Lucas seemed to have arrived at some sort of truce, he kept quiet.

Lucas carried both drinks into the nearby meeting room and placed them on the table before sitting down with a theatrical flurry. ‘So, it seems we’ve been naughty schoolboys.’

Ryan carefully sat on the chair furthest away. ‘At least I didn’t go crying to the teacher.’

‘Touché.’ Lucas took a sip of his mocha crap. ‘I wouldn’t have needed to if you’d bothered to talk to me on just one of the six occasions I came to run something by you.’

‘That’s what meetings are for.’

Lucas stared back at him, jaw opening and closing like a goldfish. ‘I have to schedule in time to talk to you, do I?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And people call me the Queen.’

‘I only called you a watermelon.’ Ryan huffed out a breath, wondering what the hell he was doing sitting here discussing queens and fruits with a man drinking a mochaccino. ‘Look, when I’m working, I need quiet. It’s nothing personal.’

Lucas frowned. ‘Then how about this for a wacky idea? Tell me that. Don’t just growl at me.’

‘Fine.’ He looked Lucas in the eye. ‘When you can see my head’s down, please don’t disturb me. It really ticks me off.’

‘Noted.’ Lucas flicked something off his trousers. Probably a confused insect looking for pollen. ‘There are still things we need to discuss though, and don’t tell me I have to schedule an audience with you.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he muttered, taking a swig of his coffee.

‘How about we set aside half an hour every morning and every afternoon to … hook up.’ Lucas waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Ryan decided to play him at his own game. ‘You sure half an hour is enough?’

‘I’m easily satisfied.’

Lucas’s face kept impressively deadpan – for about two seconds. Then his lips twitched and Ryan couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh. ‘Half an hour it is then.’ He drank the last of his coffee and jumped to his feet. Time to make a run for it while they were still on reasonable terms. But as he reached the door, Lucas’s question stopped him in his tracks.

‘What do you think of our Sam, then?’

Was it a fishing expedition? Or did the guy know something? Ryan couldn’t tell from Lucas’s impressively blank expression. ‘Too early to tell.’

Lucas’s expression sharpened as he stood and walked towards him. ‘Have you two met before?’

Ryan willed himself not to flinch, not to blink. He rated honesty above all other traits, mainly because he’d been lied to for much of his childhood, but this was a question he wasn’t prepared to answer. Even if, by not answering, he raised suspicion. ‘Why?’

Sure enough, Lucas’s eyebrows rose another inch. ‘Just idle speculation. There seems to be an undercurrent between you. I can’t work it out.’

Ryan snorted. ‘Yeah. She doesn’t like me. You were there when she told you.’ Before the man could ask anything else, Ryan shot off back to his desk.

Undercurrent? Was that code for sex? And why the bloody hell couldn’t he stop thinking about that night? It had been two weeks, for pity’s sake.

Maybe his obsession had nothing to do with Sam Huxton, he thought as he logged back onto his computer. Maybe he just needed to get laid again. Then again, considering how much trouble the last hook-up had landed him, maybe celibacy was the way forward.

In fact, considering his to-do list, celibacy was the only viable option.

Chapter 8

‘I’m going to throttle Hank. How could he recommend that guy to us?’

It was now four weeks into Ryan’s employment with them, and things hadn’t got any easier. This time it was Becky chewing Sam’s ear off as they walked together to the weekly management meeting. A quick glance along the corridor and it was clear Ryan was already in the meeting room, as was becoming the norm. Obsessive punctuality seemed to be as much his thing as obsessive quietness when he was working.

As if he could sense her, he glanced up and immediately her pulse shot up a gear. Sam groaned inwardly. Here went another hour spent pretending he was just another employee.

Pretending she didn’t still find the man impossibly attractive.

‘Sam?’

She shook away her errant thoughts. ‘Sorry. Miles away.’

Becky gave her a sidelong look. ‘Oh boy, please don’t tell me you actually still like the guy?’

‘What guy?’ Becky huffed and Sam immediately caved. ‘If you’re talking about Ryan, I never said I liked him.’

‘But you can’t take your eyes off him, either.’

Sam lurched to a stop. ‘I can. See, my eyes are on you now.’ She gave Becky her best wholesome smile. ‘So, what’s our newest employee done now?’

Becky sighed. ‘He’s not easy to work with, you know? Locks himself away in the meeting room all day. It’s so frustrating when I have things I need to run by him. He’s been here a month now and it’s vital we start communicating more.’

‘Maybe you should gatecrash Lucas’s time slots.’ Aware that Ryan was still watching her, Sam started walking again. He probably thought they were gossiping about him. But when did being a responsible manager and listening to her staff’s gripes become gossip?

‘I said the same to Lucas. He told me he didn’t want to share him.’ Becky started to giggle. ‘I seriously think he’s got the hots for Ryan and he’s hoping to turn him.’

A memory of Ryan’s dark, hooded eyes flashed through her mind. The way they’d burned into hers as he’d moved over her. Then slipped inside her. ‘I doubt the man’s for turning,’ she murmured, feeling heat pool between her legs. Would there ever be a time when she didn’t remember every blasted moment of that night?

Thankfully Lucas arrived at the meeting room just behind them, allowing her to keep her interaction with Ryan to a brief, impersonal smile.

‘The elusive Mr Black.’ Lucas strode into the room and glided elegantly into the seat next to Ryan. Sam stifled a smile as she saw Ryan’s forehead crinkle in a frown. ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to sit next to you?’ Lucas pouted.

‘Sure I do.’ He glanced at Lucas’s bold pink and white striped shirt, which he’d teamed today with rather conservative beige trousers. ‘As long as your wardrobe choice isn’t catching.’

Lucas burst out laughing and Sam immediately glanced at Becky, who looked as shocked as she was. Were those two actually starting to get on?

The meeting began with department updates. ‘Are we still on schedule to have Privacy 2 finalised in two months?’ Sam’s stomach knotted, as it always did, when she thought of the rapidly approaching deadline.

It was Lucas who replied. ‘Boy wonder here is working his fine butt off.’ Ryan briefly closed his eyes, but Sam thought she saw his lips twitch. ‘We’ve managed to streamline the input side of things by providing a consent button to access third party data, like Facebook and Instagram. We’ve also got the app to monitor the user’s junk email, which we didn’t have before. If we carry on at the same rate of progress then yes, we should be done in time.’

Ryan raised his hand. ‘What Lucas meant to say was, if we don’t come across any hitches, if we can persuade you and Becky to be happy with the compromises we’ve had to make, and if we can agree on the next steps, then maybe there’s a chance it will be done in two months.’

Automatically Sam’s hands reached into her trouser pocket for the antacids. The thought of not having it ready before Damien’s launch … No, she wasn’t thinking like that. They were going to do this. Taking a breath, she pushed a smile onto her face. ‘Sounds good.’

Next to be discussed was the upcoming investor meeting. They held one monthly to keep those who’d ploughed a considerable amount of money into the company abreast with how things were going.

‘Will your parents be attending?’ Becky asked after she’d given them all a brief update on what she was planning to say.

Ryan’s head snapped up and Sam was aware of his eyes watching her intently as she replied. ‘I don’t think so. They said they didn’t want to interfere. Just to help.’ Why did she suddenly feel as if Ryan was weighing her up, and finding her wanting? Worse, why did she care if he was?

‘Mummy and Daddy funding your pet project, are they?’

At the derision in his eyes, she felt her blood boil. ‘This isn’t a project,’ she told him tightly. ‘It’s my life. My parents didn’t give me a penny until …’ She slammed her mouth shut, aware she’d nearly given him further ammunition to laugh at her. ‘It’s none of your business.’ Words she should have stuck to in the first place.

‘You’re right. Sorry.’ Ryan gave her an awkward-looking smile. ‘Sometimes crap comes out of my mouth before my brain has a chance to filter it.’

Mollified – and more than a touch surprised – by his unexpected apology, Sam moved quickly on. ‘The next agenda item is employee of the month. Does anyone have a recommendation?’

‘What?’

The look on Ryan’s face was almost comical. ‘We have an employee recognition scheme,’ she explained patiently, well aware he’d feel as much affinity towards that as he did to open-plan working. ‘Anyone can nominate someone for it. They just need to give a reason. We discuss the recommendation in this meeting. The nominated employee gets to keep the plaque on their desk for a month.’

‘Whoopee.’ Though his tone was sarcastic, his eyes were amused.

‘They also earn a fifty-pound voucher of their choosing.’

Ryan’s lips curved in that funny smirk. ‘Can I nominate myself?’

Becky leant unsubtly towards her. ‘Self-nomination is the only way he’ll get one,’ she whispered, though whispered wasn’t quite the right word as Ryan’s eyes flashed in their direction.

‘Not very teamy of you, Becky.’ He gave a slow shake of his head. ‘At least direct your sarky comments to my face.’

‘Not very teamy of you to shut yourself in a meeting room all day.’

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘I don’t sit at my desk dreaming up cute ad slogans. I write complex code. It requires thought.’

‘Seb wrote code,’ Becky retorted, never one to step down from a challenge. ‘He also sat in the open plan area and was happy to be interrupted when I needed to ask him something.’

‘Is this the same guy who told you he could do the impossible?’ Before Becky could reply, and from the way she was practically vibrating, Sam knew her friend was itching to deliver a snappy put-down, Ryan spoke again. ‘Look, I’m sorry I need quiet to work. If you need to talk to me, why not use the same slots as Mochaccino Man.’ He pointed at Lucas.

Becky stiffened. ‘That’s rude.’

Lucas, though, looked far from unhappy, his blue eyes shining with amusement. ‘That’s nothing. He called me a fruit the other day.’

As Becky gasped, Ryan cut in. ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds. He’s winding you up. And at least I don’t talk about people behind their backs. I say it to their faces.’

Sam felt a dart of guilt as she recalled Ryan overhearing her and Lucas talking about him. But God, had he seriously told Lucas he’d looked like a fruit? And was Lucas really as okay with it as he seemed to be?

Time to move the meeting into safer, more professional territory. Sam cleared her throat. ‘Okay, enough. While Ryan’s working in the meeting room, Becky will use the same time slots as Lucas if she needs to talk to him.’ Not that she was going to let Ryan work in isolation for much longer. She fully believed employees who chatted together and socialised together worked better together. One team, one mission, one heart wasn’t just the company motto. It was a fundamental part of their success. ‘Now can we get back to employee of the month?’

‘I’d like to nominate Alice.’ Becky gave Ryan a pointed look. ‘She’s been terrific, helping me as much as she can when Ryan’s been … unavailable.’

Ryan’s face twisted. ‘There’s something going on with her.’

Not the response Sam had been expecting. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nobody can be that happy all the time. It’s not real.’

‘Especially not working with you.’ Becky uttered the words loud enough for Ryan to hear this time.

He let out a low laugh. ‘Good one.’

Sam accepted Alice’s nomination and moved hastily to the next item on her list. The conference. ‘We’ve agreed to have a stand at the mobile app conference next month. Becky, I know you and the sales team will be attending on both days. Do you need support from anyone else?’

‘In the past we’ve had one of the development team come, in case we get asked anything technical.’ She smiled sweetly over at Ryan. ‘Alice did a great job last time.’

He smirked. ‘What, you don’t want me?’

‘If your face can do anything other than glower, then yes. Otherwise, we’d rather have Alice.’

Sam sighed. Here they went again. She was going to throttle her friend. Sure Ryan was a pain in the arse, but Becky knew that. She’d flipping interviewed him. Needling him was only going to make him worse.

‘You think this face can’t smile if it needs to?’ Ryan countered. ‘At least I don’t have bright blue hair.’ As Becky bristled, he held up his hand. ‘Hey, don’t get me wrong, it’s kind of cool, but who’s to say it won’t put more people off than my sour face?’

Ignoring him, Sam turned to Becky, trying to gauge her thoughts. Did she want Ryan at the conference, or not?

Her friend clearly read her unasked question. ‘If he puts on a suit and plays nice, I’m happy for him to come.’ She paused a moment. ‘Will you be coming?’

‘Yes, for a bit.’

‘Then it probably makes sense for Alice to come on the first day and for you and Ryan to come for the second day. We can hold an informal Q&A at the stand.’ A slow smile crept over Becky’s face. ‘And I think you and Ryan live near each other, so this way you only need to bring one car.’

Sam’s jaw dropped open. What on earth was she cooking up? But Becky just continued to smile.

‘Ryan?’ With great trepidation, she looked over at him, but he wasn’t listening. He was staring down at his phone, a tight expression on his face.

‘Sorry, got to get this.’

Without another word, he shot to his feet and marched out of the room.

‘Well.’ Lucas leant back on his chair and started to laugh. ‘I’ll say one thing for Black. He certainly livens up a management meeting. Is there anything else we need to discuss?’

‘We’re done, but before you go, one question.’ Sam knew Lucas put on a good game face, but behind it, he was far more sensitive than he let on. ‘Are you really okay with Ryan taking the mick like that?’

‘Darling, he can call me whatever he likes.’ When she continued to look at him, his face sobered. ‘If you want the truth, there’s something refreshing about a man who’s prepared to stare me straight in the eye and say I look like a watermelon. Most of the time that sort of stuff is whispered behind my back. With Ryan I know where I stand. There’s no side to him. He’s not saying it to be mean, or to goad me. He just says what he thinks.’ As he stood up, he added with a wink. ‘Don’t go telling him I said this, but I’m actually starting to like the man.’

Feeling equal parts surprise and relief, Sam watched him leave before turning to her so-called friend. ‘What the hell, Becks?’

Becky had the grace to look shamefaced. ‘Sorry about setting you up to travel with him like that, though I’m not sure he heard any of it. He was so focused on whoever was calling him.’

‘But why would you? Especially after you’d just spent the whole meeting winding him up, which wasn’t cool, by the way. I’m trying to develop a culture of team working. Of being one happy family.’

Becky grinned. ‘You have brothers, right? Don’t tell me you never wound them up on purpose, just to see how they’d react.’

‘Is that what you were doing? Because it seemed to me it was more than that.’

‘Hey, he started it. Not very teamy of you, Becky,’ she drawled in a terrible imitation of Ryan’s deep yet oddly soft voice.

‘When I said I wanted this to be a family, I didn’t mean I wanted squabbling siblings. And I certainly don’t want to be Mum.’

Becky snorted. ‘No, it’s quite clear what you want. He’s six-three with big shoulders, dark eyes and an annoying attitude.’

Sam lurched back, aghast. ‘I do not.’

Becky gave her arm a light touch, her expression turning from highly amused to concerned. ‘Are you sure about that? Because the way you looked at him before we went into the room sure didn’t say not bothered.’

Groaning, Sam covered her face with her hands. ‘Please tell me I didn’t look like that in the actual meeting.’

‘You didn’t, though I suspect that’s just because you barely glanced at him.’ Becky sighed, giving Sam’s shoulders a sympathetic rub. ‘Hey, come on. You like him, he likes you.’

‘He doesn’t.’

‘Of course he does. You think he’d say sorry to any of us like he just did to you?’ Her eyes brimmed with understanding. ‘I know it’s not ideal because of the office connection again, but it’s only really a problem if you make it into one. I thought if you travelled to the conference together it might give you a chance to talk things out.’

‘Oh no, no, no.’ Sam heaved in a breath and sat up. ‘No, no, no. There’s nothing I have to say to Ryan outside work. What we did was a mistake. I can’t see someone from work again. Have you forgotten how badly that went for me last time? And God, Ryan works for me, sleeping with him is all sorts of wrong.’ A bubble of brittle laughter escaped her. ‘Except I did, didn’t I, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.’ Emotions all over the place, she looked glumly over at her friend. ‘I don’t even know if I like him, Becks, but my eyes can’t stop tracking him. My body can’t stop remembering what it felt like to be touched my him. What the blazes am I supposed to do?’

Becky took hold of her hands and clasped them in hers. ‘Number one, stop worrying. Just because Damien ended in disaster doesn’t mean every office-based relationship is doomed.’

‘Did I mention the part about me being Ryan’s boss?’

‘You’re not the first boss to sleep with an employee.’

‘Yeah, but the boss is usually male. I hold myself to a higher standard than that.’

Becky started to snigger. ‘If it’s like I’ve read in books, the boss isn’t just usually male, he’s also usually a billionaire who likes to tie his employee up in all sorts of—’

‘Thanks, I get the picture.’

Becky gave her a cheeky grin and started to fan herself. ‘Oh my, so do I. You standing by the four-poster in sexy heels. Ryan sprawled out on the bed, arms and legs cuffed to the posts.’

‘What’s point number two?’ Sam interrupted, feeling heat pulse through her body. ‘Because number one isn’t exactly helping here, you know.’

Becky sobered. ‘Number two is spend more time with him. Go to the conference together. You might find you don’t like him, and then this crazy attraction will disappear.’

‘And if the opposite happens?’

‘Ah.’ She slid Sam a look. ‘You think you could actually like a guy whose default mode seems to be rude and the only smile he knows is a smirk?’

‘No.’ Yet the man she’d slept with, who’d nearly walked away from a certain one-night stand because he’d been worried she was drunk, and who’d been kind enough to pretend to listen when she’d poured out her grief about her grandad, had been more than that. ‘At least I don’t think so.’

PART THREE

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