Читать книгу Hot Boss, Wicked Nights - Anne Oliver - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

DAMON swore silently when he discovered his bedroom empty and the most enchanting creature he’d ever made out with gone. Getting laid on his first night back hadn’t been his intention—he wasn’t normally a man for one-nighters but one look at her and his brain had taken a swift dive below his belt. He’d had to have her.

He could go back downstairs and see if she was still around, which he doubted. Besides, he never put women before business and he wasn’t going to start now. Presumably that was all she’d wanted or she’d have stuck around for an encore. Pity, but—he shrugged—it wasn’t as if anything could come of it.

He pulled a beer from the room’s bar fridge and popped the top. Walked to the window and looked down at the business he’d crossed the Pacific to deal with. The travel agency his uncle had left him with its less-than-stellar façade and outdated posters. He shook his head. It was precisely why he’d arrived earlier than scheduled—to get a look at the place ahead of time.

Instead, he’d looked straight into a pair of soulful dark eyes and been sucked right under…

Bonita. Her image bloomed in his mind, with her father’s Spanish eyes and her Egyptian mother’s beauty. Was it any wonder he’d been attracted to those same attributes tonight? He took a swig from the bottle but the liquid tasted acrid on his tongue. He’d watched the woman he’d loved die at twenty-four.

And he’d learned the only way to deal with loss was to cut those people close to him out of his heart. Slapping a decisive palm on the window sill, he set the beer down and headed to the bathroom for a long-overdue shower. To ease travel-cramped muscles and wash away the woman’s lingering scent. No regrets but no reminders. He was in Sydney to put things right for his uncle, the last act he could perform for what he could call family. Then he was gone.

Thanks to a doozy of a cold, which had hit in the early hours of Sunday morning, Kate was running late for work on Monday—not good when Bryce’s nephew was arriving from heaven knew where tomorrow to look over the business. And the traffic this morning was a nightmare.

While she could have been at the office ahead of time making sure the man had nothing to find fault with she’d wasted her entire Sunday sleeping. Or trying to. Even with her mobile switched off and the landline off the hook, the memory of another man had kept her from getting the shut-eye she needed.

Kate Fielding had had a one-night stand.

A hot and steamy and abbreviated one-night stand. The very idea sent shock waves rocketing through her body. She braked with a squeal of tyres for yet another red light she’d barely noticed. The driver behind leaned on his horn.

Hell. She wiped her nose, gripped the wheel harder. Adventure man wasn’t good for her health. Thinking about him wasn’t good for her health. What did it matter that he’d put whatever business he was involved in before her? That he was probably like Nick and took his opportunities where he could? She was never going to see him again. She’d enjoyed herself and that was where it ended. That was what casually single was all about, right?

If she could just convince her still-sensitised body of that.

By sheer will she forced the images from her mind. Time to concentrate on the more immediate problem. Tomorrow morning she was going to come face to face with a man she already disliked by reputation and she wasn’t going to give him any reason to find fault with her work.

Her boss’s sudden death three weeks ago at a young forty-three meant the travel agency faced an uncertain future. She’d worked seven long hard years for the manager’s position. Now she had to prove herself again, to some guy whom she’d never met, who more likely than not knew nothing about the travel industry. Certainly he knew nothing about Aussie Essential.

She pulled into her reserved parking space a little too quickly, noting the time on her dashboard as she switched off the ignition. Damn. She grabbed her bag, wiping her nose again as she hurried across the car park in the brisk autumn breeze. Only ten minutes late.

She was never late. Lateness was unprofessional and showed a complete disregard for other people. Her low-heeled shoes echoed impatiently on the concrete. Checking her appearance in the glass door as she entered, she tugged the hem of her navy jacket, adjusted her collar unnecessarily. Smoothed her long hair clasped in a knot at the back of her head out of habit.

‘Hi, Deb.’ She smiled at their newest team member sitting behind her desk. The only team member behind her desk, she noticed. ‘Where the heck is everyone?’

‘Hi, Kate…umm…’ Her eyes flicked to the large office they used as a staffroom behind them.

As Kate stowed her handbag beneath her desk a feeling of doom descended on her. ‘Don’t tell me. He’s here already.’

‘He said he tried contacting you…’

‘Oh, no…’ she groaned. ‘I slept through yesterday and I was running so late this morning I didn’t stop to check my messages.’ Kate’s blocked sinuses chose that moment to prickle. She barely caught the explosion with a tissue. Even the cold capsules she’d taken earlier hadn’t diffused the throbbing headache and her legs felt like lead. She mopped her nose. ‘He wasn’t due till tomorrow.’

‘I know.’ Deb shrugged. ‘He called everyone in for an early staff meeting. They’re all in there right now. I’m manning the desk—’

Kate tossed her tissue in the bin and grabbed another handful from her desk. ‘Excuse me? He called a staff meeting?’

He being the nephew Bryce only ever mentioned on a couple of occasions that Kate could recall. The globe-trotting adventurer, the man who’d not bothered to come to the funeral but was here now to seize his inheritance.

Deb nodded. ‘He seems to have everything under control.’

He had no right to have everything under control. Kate always managed Aussie Essential Travel in Bryce’s absence and he’d promised her full authority from next month. That was probably a moot point now. Still, she’d been managing just fine for the past three weeks. What would his nephew, who as far as she knew had never set foot inside this place, know about the travel business?

‘Are you okay, Kate?’

Kate shook her head, and winced. But she forced a smile. ‘I’m breathing…sort of…I’d better get in there.’

Calm down, she ordered herself. Be professional but assertive. Leave him in no doubt that you’re quite capable, thank you very much. She grabbed a notepad and pen from her desk.

Opening the door quietly, she stepped inside. The team was focused on the dark-suited man talking at the head of the table. His voice was deep and melodic. And authoritative.

She tensed, ready to defend her own authority.

His face was in profile, but he turned and stopped speaking as Kate entered and she was blasted by the full force of his gaze. Pinned in place by topaz eyes. His jaw might have tensed momentarily—or maybe not—she was too busy picking her own jaw off the floor.

Oh. No. Her Saturday night’s casual encounter was Bryce’s nephew? The man she detested by reputation? She felt a sudden tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with her cold. Surely it wasn’t possible.

Or Damon Gillespie just looked like that guy because he’d invaded her mind. The clean-shaven man in the suit that fitted his broad shoulders to perfection and looked as if it had cost a million bucks and the sombre silk tie couldn’t be that rugged jungle hero who’d kissed her senseless, made love to her against the wall… She felt that same heat rise up her neck now as the rest of her staff turned to look at her.

Hold it together. She took a deep steadying breath and nodded a silent greeting to them. Forget authority, forget assertive—all she wanted to do was slide into the nearest chair with as little fuss as possible and get herself under some sort of control.

On noodle legs, she moved towards the only available chair which, by some unfortunate coincidence, happened to be next to Damon Gillespie’s right hand. It was okay, she told herself; he wouldn’t recognise her.

To make it worse, he was waiting for her to sit before continuing with whatever it was he was saying, making her the centre of attention. ‘I’m interrupting, I’m sorry…’ she half whispered and immediately cursed herself for apologising to this man who represented everything she despised. He should be the one apologising.

‘Good morning, Miz…?’

She reached her destination and sank down, her notepad and pen sliding from her trembling fingers onto the table. His aftershave wafted beneath her nose. Expensive, spicy.

Familiar.

She clenched her hands together and dared to look straight into those eyes she was already too well acquainted with. She schooled her voice to chilly formality as she said, ‘Kate Fielding.’

‘Ah. Kate.’ He nodded, his eyes imprisoning hers for probably only a second or two but it felt agonisingly like minutes. ‘Damon Gillespie. You were incommunicado yesterday. An eventful Saturday night?’ His tone almost suggested he knew all about her Saturday night. Or was it just her perception?

Thank goodness he didn’t appear to expect an answer and moved right along in the same breath, informing them that he wanted to meet with each member of staff individually over the next couple of days. Kate noted the details on her pad, more for something to occupy her hands than anything else. But because her hands were shaking, she gave up and clenched them together on her lap.

Damon Gillespie tugged at his snowy white cuffs and spread his hands on the table. Large blunt, short-nailed fingers. Kate tried to look away but she couldn’t take her eyes off them. The memory taunted her. Those talented fingers exploring, finding all her pleasure points…

Her pulse throbbed slow and heavy and she bit down on her lower lip. Why was her body betraying her? It had no business feeling all molten and fluid in the middle of a staff meeting. Worse, it was responding to a man she didn’t want to like—didn’t like; loathed, in fact.

She jerked to attention at the mention of her name, knocking her pen to the floor with a resounding clatter in the silent room, and realised he was watching her expectantly, waiting for an answer. ‘Ah…I missed that.’

Damon knew she had. Good God, what were the odds of your one-night stand turning up at a staff meeting? She’d been a mess of nerves since she’d realised who he was and if he wasn’t mistaken the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees.

Not the way she’d behaved the last time he’d seen her, he remembered. No, sir, she’d been more than willing and abundantly able. And hot. She couldn’t be sure he knew, however, because perhaps she thought she’d disguised herself adequately. She’d obviously not considered the tiny mole below the corner of her left eye. Or the fact that the veil was more transparent than she thought.

He retrieved the pen from the floor, noting the sexy ankles in her unflattering granny shoes as he did so, and set it on her pad. Her dark eyes collided with his as she mumbled a thank-you. ‘I asked if there’s anyone I need to thank personally for helping out with the funeral arrangements, flowers and donations and such. As you’d know now, Bryce and I had no other relatives.’

‘I was aware of that…’ Her gaze filled with what looked like pity and held his for a beat out of time. No need for tea and sympathy, he assured her silently with an equally resolute gaze.

Then her eyes cooled and skidded away as if she regretted the momentary lapse and she straightened, jotted something else on her notepad, her fingers wrapped so tightly around her pen he wondered that it didn’t break. Her voice took on that chilly note again as she said, ‘I have the details at home. And the book of attendees.’

There was an emphasis on that last word as if condemning him for not turning up to the funeral. He didn’t bother telling her the news of Bryce’s death hadn’t reached him until a few days ago. ‘Thanks, Kate. I’ll give you a call later.’ He sent a smile her way but she wasn’t giving him eye contact.

He turned, swept his gaze over the table as he smiled at each individual in turn and said, ‘Thank you, everyone. I think that’s it for now. As for Aussie Essential Travel, don’t worry. We’ll all muddle through this together.’

Hushed conversation ensued as staff members skirted the table. Kate pushed up too, but he laid a restraining hand over one of hers. ‘A moment of your time, Kate.’ He didn’t remove his hand right away, enjoying the feel of her smooth fingers beneath his, even if they were clenched like grim death.

She resented him being here. No, he decided, it was more than that.

He leaned back in his chair and watched her as the room emptied. She stared back at him with unsmiling eyes, a contrast to the dark desire he’d seen there thirty-six hours ago. This conservative Kate with her raven-black hair imprisoned in a tight knot, those gorgeous breasts crammed into a demure navy suit, was no Oriental temptress. Even the no-frills name ‘Kate’ conjured an entirely different image from the sultry ‘Sha-ki-ra’. A double personality.

Maybe a double life? he mused, watching her struggle with a riot of emotions. ‘You and Bryce were friends, I’m told.’

‘Yes.’ She looked down at her hand beneath his, then yanked it away to clench it over her other one on her lap. Her head jerked up, and her eyes flashed, sunlight glinting on ice. ‘He was a caring and generous boss. And a true gentleman.’

Ah, well, that last attribute left him out in the cold. As far as she was concerned at any rate, if her expression was anything to go by. Yep, he’d been anything but a gentleman on Saturday night.

And she’d enjoyed every wild and wicked moment, this prim and proper woman in front of him. He felt his mouth kick up at the corner despite himself.

‘What are you smiling about?’ Before he could draw breath she continued, jamming each word onto a skewer. ‘Let me guess. You’ve just had a business fall into your lap.’

She was, he thought, his half-grin still in place, magnificent in anger.

She was also way off base. He didn’t need a failing business; he had enough problems with his own at this moment.

‘He’s been gone a matter of weeks.’ Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. ‘Have you no respect?’

His facial muscles tightened. If this was about Bry, she wouldn’t understand that Damon refused to look back. It didn’t mean he didn’t mourn Bry’s death in his own way. Nor did he have to justify himself to her. ‘It’s not about respect. Life goes on, Kate.’

She blinked, then sneezed. Snatched the box of tissues on the table. ‘Obviously he meant little to you,’ she said, swiping at her nose.

‘We lived in the same house when I was growing up. He was only nine years older than me; I knew him as well as you’d know a brother.’

‘And how long ago was that?’

Years. ‘I’m living in the US at present, but we kept in contact via email, by phone.’ Usually when Bryce wanted extra funds.

She must have had it rough over the past couple of weeks, he thought. Besides, she looked damn unwell. ‘You’re sick. Go home and take the rest of the day off,’ he suggested quietly. ‘I’ll be in touch later.’

She raised her mascara-stained red eyes and stared at him as if he’d grown horns. ‘Who are you to tell me I can take the day off? I haven’t had a day off in three years. I’m the most senior staff member here; I can’t run away from my responsibilities. People might need me.’

He nodded. He had to admire her dedication. Most employees would be running for their duvets. ‘Okay. But if you change your mind, no one’ll think badly of you.’

She pushed up, taking the tissue box and notepad with her. ‘But I would.’

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Go easy on yourself. I’m staying at Bryce’s apartment if you need to get in touch.’ He took the pad from her hand, scrawled his mobile number beneath her notes.

‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary,’ she replied frostily. ‘I can handle any situation should it arise.’

He met her gaze. ‘I don’t doubt it. But just in case.’

He watched her go, then spent a few moments checking his messages, made a couple of calls, then slipped out the back way. He unlocked the luxury BMW he’d leased yesterday for the time he’d be here, and sat for a few moments, barely seeing the charming row of Paddington’s little terraced houses as Kylie Minogue sang on the stereo.

‘What have you got me into, Bry?’ he said, staring at the darkening clouds. He’d already injected a six-figure lump sum into Bry’s business account a couple of years back. A loan, Bry had said. Where the hell had that money gone?

After collecting the keys from Security at Bryce’s apartment yesterday he’d driven to the office and taken a quick look at the figures. Then wished to blazes he hadn’t. A decision to shut up shop meant six employees would be out of a job, a situation that didn’t sit well with him. After all, turning struggling businesses around was his forte.

The million-dollar question was did he want to spend the time and energy, not to mention yet more of his own capital that the agency would need, here? In Sydney?

He’d grown up here. Lived with his grandmother through most of his adolescence. He’d been a mistake, he’d been told at age five, and he’d never been allowed to forget it. Until Grandma had put her steel-capped foot down and insisted he grow up in a stable environment with her and his father’s younger brother while his parents chased storms around the US.

Eventually they’d stopped coming home altogether. The last time he’d seen them was at his grandmother’s funeral ten years ago. He had no idea where they were now and he cared even less.

That was what he reminded himself as a chill seemed to wrap around his bones despite the car’s warmth. ‘I’d have come back sooner, Bry, if I’d known.’

But they’d never been close. Damon had his own life. If it wasn’t his Internet business it was deciding where his next thrill-seeking BASE jump would take him. Parachuting off buildings, bridges and mountains—the ultimate extreme sport and the only way to live.

So now he’d inherited a business he didn’t want but felt a familial obligation to put right. And an unwanted attraction for a woman who couldn’t stand the sight of him.

Yet she’d been all over him like a red-hot rash on Saturday night. Hadn’t been able to get enough of him. Had the fact that he’d taken a business call instead of engaging in some sort of post-coital conversation done it?

No, her hostility towards him was all about the business. He’d usurped her authority. And she was right—pleasurable as it had been, Saturday night was of no consequence. As she was the centre’s most senior staff member, he needed her support if he was going to keep Aussie Essential. Somehow he had to get Kate the employee onside.

Somewhere away from the office environment might work. A peace offering. Food. Did she like pizza? he wondered.

Kate could see the door from her desk and let out a relieved sigh when she saw Damon Gillespie’s broad shoulders as he exited the room and headed to the rear of the building. Could the day get any worse? She closed her eyes. Yeah, it could have been worse.

He could have recognised her.

Bryce’s nephew.

Perhaps her soon-to-be boss, if his take-charge attitude was any indication. A man she despised for all the right reasons—a selfish jet-setter about to snatch the manager’s job out from under her.

So why did the sight of him melt her insides to butter? Why couldn’t she get over him? The man who’d just taken charge wasn’t the fantasy lover she’d had on Saturday night. Somehow she had to separate her professional and personal life, which had suddenly become hopelessly entangled.

She rubbed a hand over her throbbing head. Despite his lackadaisical lifestyle she had a feeling Damon Gillespie was a very astute man—how long would it be before he discovered who she was?