Читать книгу Effortless - Lynn Montagano - Страница 7
CHAPTER TWO
ОглавлениеI stretched under the blankets as best I could, not wanting to disrupt Alastair’s vice-like grip on me. A delicious, satisfied soreness hummed between my legs and down my thighs. His gloriously naked body pressed into mine as he grunted in response to my movements.
“It’s not time to get up yet, is it?” he muttered in my ear.
“Almost. It’s just after six.”
I managed to free an arm and shut off the alarm on my phone before it buzzed. Alastair turned me so I faced him, opened a sleepy eye and grinned. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning, yourself. Did you sleep alright?”
“Never better.” He kissed my forehead, nose and cheeks before pulling me into his chest. The last thing I wanted to do was remove myself from this amazing cocoon of comfort. Pieces of his messy hair tickled me like they always did. Waking up with him never failed to put a smile on my face. It was one of the perks of us sharing a bed.
“You feel good,” he said, sliding his hand over my backside. And there was the other perk. “Come shower with me.”
Untangling his body from mine, he pushed back the blankets and stood up. I drank in every absolutely stunning naked inch of him. His toned, athletic physique was second to none. That body was made to please a woman and thank goodness I was on the receiving end. Lifting an eyebrow, he gazed down at me. “Look at you, all sexy and gorgeous on that bed.”
I stared at him through a lusty fog. “Why did you leave?”
“Good question.” He crawled back on the mattress. “You smell good,” he said, leaving a trail of kisses up my stomach. “So beautiful. And sweet.” Lacing his fingers through mine, he held both my hands over my head against the mattress. “And mine.”
I parted my lips, welcoming his kiss.
“I love this look,” he said with a note of satisfaction, “and seeing you this turned on.” He angled his head so his mouth hovered near my ear, making it easier for the velvet tone of his accent to slide through my bloodstream. “You’re always so ready for me. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
Forming a coherent sentence wasn’t possible. Neither was breathing.
“Alastair,” I moaned, arching my back. “Stop talking.”
“And do what?”
“Whatever you want.”
Letting go of my hands, he wet his lips. On impulse, I nipped at the bottom one.
“Tempting,” he said, sitting up. “But what I’d like to do to you would make us both miss work and I have a full day of meetings.”
WHAT?
My expression must have dropped like a lead balloon. I sat up and pouted. Cupping my chin, he kissed me firmly. “Tonight.”
Something was off. I could see a subtle change in his demeanor.
The diamond shimmered on my finger as I stroked his cheek. “Is everything really okay with work after that board meeting?”
He tensed, retreating behind the all too familiar protective shield. “Mostly.”
“Talk to me.”
He’d made leaps and bounds in the sharing department but still hid behind the mask whenever he felt overwhelmed or flat out didn’t want to explain what was happening in his head. I brushed a few messy pieces of his hair back, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Just the usual, kitten. You know, the Holden way.”
I really didn’t know. I could only assume he was referring to his uncle.
Running both hands through his hair, he sighed. “Can we keep all talk of my family out of the bedroom? I’d rather this be a place for us to escape the outside world and lose ourselves in one another.” Tracing the edges of my lips, he aimed a white hot stare at me. I could tell he was agitated and didn’t want what little time we had together this morning to end on the wrong note.
“That sounds good to me,” I said, smiling. His expression softened, giving me that amazing, fluttery feeling in my stomach after breaking through his walls.
* * *
Alastair kissed me a little too long in the backseat of the Mercedes SUV after Paxton pulled to the curb in front of my building.
“I want you spend all day wondering about all the different things I’m going to do to you tonight,” he whispered on my lips. “I want you to anticipate every touch, every kiss, every move.”
I swallowed hard, glancing at the driver’s seat to see if Paxton heard any of that. He seemed oblivious, staring out the window.
“Amelia. Look at me.”
I met his heated stare and shifted on the leather seat. “This is the second time you’ve gotten me hot and bothered this morning without following through, Holden. I think you’re enjoying it.”
His sexy grin only made it more difficult for me not to tear off his expensive, three piece suit and have my way with him in the back of the car. Seeming to read my thoughts, he cupped my chin. “Control it. Channel what you’re feeling right now and save it for later. Just think how much more satisfying it will be.”
“You’re a piece of work,” I muttered, squeezing his thigh. “But I love you anyway.”
“I know.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
Eyes darkening, he angled his body closer to me. “What I feel for you is more powerful than love. It’s consuming and relentless.” Our lips brushed together briefly. “You will think of me all day and you will be just as overwhelmed by this feeling as I am.” His kissed me again, long and slow. “Go to work.”
Resigned to the fact that he’d captivated me with his words yet again, I climbed out of the car and walked into the building. Shaking myself out of this seductive haze proved to be challenging. I twisted my engagement ring around my finger as I rode up in the elevator. Since I wasn’t alone, I made it a point not to flash it out in the open. I waited until I was safely at my desk before admiring the way the diamond and halo of emeralds sparkled in the light. A smile tugged at my lips as I thought about what he had planned for me tonight.
“Lia.” Julian burst through the door, scaring the crap out of me. “I have to reschedule our lunch today. My apologies. I’ve been asked to give a quick talk at one of the schools for some…thing that I had no idea I was signed up for.”
His frown matched the dour look in his eyes.
“That’s okay. I’m sure we ca—”
“We’ll meet for cocktails after work tonight. I have a table at Pulse any time I need it. Be there at eight.”
There wasn’t time for me to give a response. He left too fast. Only the echo of his words lingered behind.
“Lunch? Cocktails? You’ve certainly managed to charm him.” Robbie leaned against the doorframe. “Can’t say he ever spent time outside the building with Gemma.”
Gemma? Oh, right. The person I replaced.
“Was she really that bad?”
Robbie walked in and left the door partially open.
“It’s not that she was bad, per se,” he said, sitting across from me. “She just didn’t have the temperament for Julian. As you know, he’s a handful but he’s not a horrible person. However, if you’re unlucky enough to land on his bad side it’s over.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about. If he’s offering you alcohol consider yourself bonded to him for life. Listen, while I’ve got your attention, I wanted to talk to you about the interview with Brent Garrison.”
My eyebrows shot straight up. I’d been so wrapped up in my personal utopia I’d forgotten about that. Plus, he owned Pulse, the destination that Julian tossed out for our cocktail meeting.
“You know him, right?”
“Uh, well, sort of,” I stammered, remembering our brief encounters all too well. “We’ve bumped into one another socially a few times.”
“You’re dating Alastair Holden so you will find yourself in the company of the city’s upper echelon.”
Keeping my hands hidden under the desk, I twisted the ring again. My personal life had been a hot topic at my former news station in Orlando thanks to the fact that Alastair’s company purchased our rival. But here? It was always on display no matter the circumstance. People were so curious about me and how I’d managed to tame Britain’s most eligible bachelor.
“Just so you know, Julian is ripe with questions for you. He’s been dying to have Alastair as a guest for ages. Tonight’s cocktail adventure could be his way of loosening you up.”
“He knows enough to back off when it comes to my relationship. Don’t worry about me.”
Once Robbie left my office I set to work. A couple of the correspondents stopped by to review their package scripts with me and discuss placement in the show. I’d managed to stack the first twenty minutes by lunchtime and ran the segments by Sam to get any needed feedback. So far, so good.
At one, I decided to take a break and grab something to eat. Plus, I had to call Stephanie and tell her the news. Even though we’d technically been engaged since July, Alastair and I had kept it between us. The summer had been such a stressful time for both of us that we decided to stay quiet until I was settled here and we were ready to let everybody else in on the secret.
I stopped myself mid-dial. My parents. I had to tell them first. And my sister. Lowering the phone back into the cradle I considered my options. It was early back home, barely past eight in the morning. My mother was probably having her third cup of coffee and debating whether or not to meet her circle of friends for a leisurely lunch. My dad was most certainly working. Even though he’d retired a few years ago he still did consulting work for the bank on the side.
I should do a video call. A small laugh escaped my lips. Trying to explain Skype to them would be nothing short of hilarious if I wanted to tell them face to face.
My dialing was interrupted a second time by a knock on my door.
“Sorry to bother you. These were just delivered.” Meredith walked in carrying a sizable bouquet of red roses.
“They’re lovely,” she said, placing them on the desk. “You’re quite lucky.”
Not saying anything further, she left. I searched for a card and found one nestled in with the baby’s breath.
If my calculations are correct, these will make you smile. Looking forward to tonight.
Yours, ARH xx
Oh no. Tonight. Dammit.
I grabbed the phone and dialed his office.
“Holden World Media.”
“Hi, Simone. It’s Lia. Is he busy?”
“Hold please.”
His assistant sounded miffed at my familiarity on the phone. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. I stroked the pretty petals while listening to some rather dire sounding hold music. They should probably play some of their own artists’ music instead of this, I thought, twisting the phone cord.
“Holden,” he answered, irritated.
“I’m not bothering you, am I?”
“Amelia.” The desirous way he said my name gave me an unexpected rush. “Not at all, kitten. Did you get my special delivery?”
“I did. They’re beautiful.” I paused. “Is everything okay? You sound stressed.”
Silence permeated through the phone before he answered. “Everything’s fine. I’m about to go sit with the finance team so you caught me just in time.” He lowered his voice. “Have you been doing as I asked all day?”
The phone nearly slipped out of my hand from the tremor of yearning that shot through my body. I composed myself before lowering the boom about tonight. “Um, so, I’ve been invited out for cocktails tonight with Julian. Well, invited is too kind. He sort of told me it was happening and where and when to meet him.”
“Did he?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “What time?”
“Eight. He said he has a table at Pulse already reserved so—”
“Will Garrison be there?”
I could hear the scowl in his tone.
“Not that I’m aware of. Do you want to come with me?”
“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind for us,” he muttered. “I should stay here later seeing as you’ll be out. Maybe I could stop by around nine?”
“If you’re not too tired. Julian likes to harass you into appearing on the show every time he sees you.”
“I’m never too tired for you. Plan on seeing me at nine then.”
* * *
The taxi arrived to pick me up at quarter to eight. I gave my hair one last fluff and checked my lip-gloss. I’d read a little bit about Pulse and my impression was that it was fairly swanky. I did another quick check in the hall mirror at my black sparkly tank dress and was off.
As the cabbie drove me through Glasgow’s West End, I soaked in the city. Old world charm weaved itself through modern flair. It was loud. It was quiet. It was bright. It was romantic. This was certainly a far cry from the brightly colored print shirts and never-ending flip-flops that defined tourist central, otherwise known as Orlando, and I loved every last bit of it.
Pulse was located inside a large stone building. It looked rather nondescript on the surface, more like an old bank than an ultra lounge. From what I’d heard, Pulse had become quite the hot spot since Brent opened it over the summer. I noted with pride a glossy advertisement by the entrance that Stephanie had designed. She’d certainly found her calling, and her passion, with graphic design work.
A rather large, intimidating looking bouncer walked over to me.
“Miss Meyers?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Follow me please. Mr. Archer is waiting inside.”
I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time as he led me inside the building. It was only five past eight. Apparently, I was late. When I looked up from the phone, I gasped. This place was incredible. Dimly lit in shades of blue, cream and lavender, the whole room gave off a cool, modern vibe. White leather couches shaped like trapezoids were chaotically organized throughout the space. Small, cube shaped chairs flanked dark wooden tables. I couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling as we weaved our way through the crowd. It was made entirely of lights that were fragmented into triangles but were perfectly positioned to look like a huge stained glass window all in white.
Every person I passed was better dressed than the last. I appreciated this being a high-end bar but found myself wishing it was a little less pretentious and a little more relaxed.
“Ah, Lia.” Julian stood up from the reserved table and kissed both my cheeks. “Gorgeous dress. Have a seat. What do you fancy for a drink?”
“Um,” I glanced at the drink menu, “I’ll have the Secret Crush please.”
He grinned at me slyly after giving our drink orders to the server. My brows lifted a bit as I smiled back, anticipating what could possibly come out of his mouth.
“Is there a specific reason why you negotiated your contract to last only three months, which incidentally, is the length of your temporary visa?”
My stomach dropped and I did that really attractive fish mouth thing where my lips parted but nothing came out.
“Well,” I started, finally finding my voice, “I wanted to see if this job was a good fit for me. For us. For the show.”
“I see.” His blue eyes narrowed slightly. “And if it is?”
“Then I suppose you’ll be stuck with me.” I smiled at the server as she placed our drinks on the table. Grabbing mine, I took a long sip of the raspberry flavored cocktail. The shrewd look Julian still aimed in my direction led me to believe he wasn’t satisfied with my response.
“I’ve had a revolving door of executive producers over the last four years. Creative differences, incompetence, laziness, you name it. You came highly touted not only from your station in America but also from Sam and Robbie. If I’d known they were going to agree to such a short contract I would never have let you in the building.”
This must be the bad side Robbie warned me about. I sank further into the plush cushion, nursing my drink and feeling more than a little bit guilty.
“Wait a second,” I said, snapping out of my funk. “You didn’t know that I’d only signed on for a few months?”
“No.”
“They told me you knew. They said you’d be okay with it.”
“Did they,” he grimaced. “Sneaky bastards.”
“I’m so confused.”
Julian downed his bourbon like a champion and leaned forward. “The two of them have been scheming behind my back for months. They kept Gemma on for much longer than was necessary just to watch me slowly implode. They want me out. There’s some younger, hot shot presenter from London making the rounds. His ratings are astronomical and the fine people at our parent company want to jump on the bandwagon. We’d be used as a satellite location for interviews and such but The Archer Hour would essentially go away.”
The alcoholic fruity goodness of my drink slipped down my throat way too easily. I stared at the bottom of the empty glass, ordering another one through telepathy. I should have known being offered a three month contract in a different country without any pushback was too good to be true. Clearly, I was part of Sam and Robbie’s master plan to watch it die a slow death.
Good thing I didn’t sell my car and kept the apartment in Orlando.
Another cocktail appeared on the table in front of me.
“Looked like you needed a refill.” Julian smiled and squeezed my knee with more affection than was necessary.
“Thanks.” I drank this one a little slower not wanting to give off the impression I was an uber lush. For some reason the drinks in Scotland tasted much better than the ones in Orlando.
“Sorry I laid all that out on you. You’ve been with us a month and I just assumed you were the savior I’d been waiting for. My job has meant everything to me and the thought of it being given to some little tit who’s nothing more than a glorified tabloid reporter pisses me off.”
I felt bad for the guy. I really did. If I’d learned anything from my former night team it was to always stay ten steps ahead of the next generation. That rang especially true for the on-air talent. I could practically hear Cynthia Steele’s strong, melodic voice in my head saying there was always someone younger with no morals waiting in the wings. I was fairly certain she’d been exaggerating about the no morals part but there had to be a grain of truth in there somewhere.
“Well, I’m not going to spend my time there going through the motions,” I asserted, taking another sip of my drink. “I’m working my ass off to make sure you have the best produced news magazine show in all of Great Britain. If Sam and Robbie don’t like it, tough shit.”
“Lia Meyers,” Julian said loudly. “You are amazing. If they do end up sacking me, you and I will start our own program.”
I laughed, enjoying the level of passion he exuded for his craft. Grabbing my drink-free hand, he squeezed it.
“We’re going to get on just fine, you and I. And by the way,” he paused, “nice ring. I had a feeling we’d be celebrating an engagement soon enough. If you can melt the notoriously frigid Alastair Holden, you can work magic with my television show.”
Shocked, I stiffened a little. I shouldn’t be surprised though. The ring was like a beacon.
“Not to worry. I won’t pester you to get an interview with him for me right now. I’m a bit of prat but I’m not that callous.”