Читать книгу Seduced By The Boss - Дженнифер Хейворд, Natalie Anderson - Страница 19

SOPHY slowly buttoned the royal blue nineteen-forties vintage frock she’d found in an exclusive retro store earlier in the week. She pushed out the fantasy she’d had about twirling in it in front of Lorenzo. She spent ages on her face, going with forties style make-up to match—full foundation, lush red lips. She breathed slowly to try to check her nerves.

She’d spent half the afternoon in the theatre foyer setting up the display, had received gratifying comments from the staff there about her designs. But they weren’t the people who mattered. She was going to those people now. It was only a ten minute walk to her parents’ home in the heart of Auckland; they were going to the theatre together from there.

‘I’m looking forward to the movie. It’s had great reviews,’ her mother chatted, oblivious to Sophy’s stress.

Of course, they didn’t even realise the exhibition was on in the foyer. Sophy clutched her purse, trying to hide the way her fingers were shaking as her father drove them. Her heart raced. This wasn’t good. She’d even done a Lorenzo and gone for a run earlier—too bad if her cheeks were still flushed from it, she’d needed to burn off some of the adrenalin. But she might as well have not bothered. Her body felt wired, on fire, yet she was cold to the bone. She wanted the movie to start—not have a whole hour of the pre-drinks to get through with her stupid baubles on show. But her parents were only too willing to relax, quietly chatting in the foyer to friends and generally acting like the reserved pillars of society that they were. How had she ever thought this was a good idea?

Her brother and sister were already there. And it was her sister and sister-in-law who pointed out the gleaming display cabinets of vintage inspired jewellery to her and her mother.

‘What do you think of them?’ That was her sister-in-law, Mina.

‘I love this one—look at it, Soph, it’s just gorgeous,’ Victoria said.

‘Are you okay, Sophy? You’ve gone all pale.’ Her brother, Ted, stared at her. ‘Now you’re gone all red.’

‘I’m fine,’ she squeaked.

Her mother turned to look at her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Mmm hmm.’ She nodded, not bothering to try to talk more.

‘This one would really suit you.’ Mina, her sister-in-law, hadn’t been paying attention. ‘It would go beautifully with your eyes.’ She was looking at the blue necklace she’d made in Hanmer.

Ted, her brother—the one with the IQ too high for anyone’s good—had picked up one of the business cards on the table.

‘“Designs by Sophy,”’ he read aloud. ‘Even has your mobile number listed.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘Got something to share, baby sis?’

‘You made these?’ Her mother whirled, her face beaming.

They all turned and looked at her.

‘Umm.’ Sophy was a dehydrated flower withering under the heat of her immediate family’s collective stare. ‘Yes.’

‘But this is amazing! Edward!’ Her mother raised her voice. ‘Edward have you seen these?’

He had—her father put his arm around her, smiling in that quietly pleased way he had. ‘Well done, Sophy.’

‘You’re so talented.’

‘When did you learn to do this?’

‘I could never do anything so intricate.’

Victoria and Mina got in on the act. Oh, the squeals were embarrassing.

‘She got it from my side of the family,’ her father said with his usual assured authority. ‘Which is your favourite, darling?’ He turned to her mother. ‘I’m going to buy it.’

‘You don’t have to do that, Dad,’ Sophy mumbled, beyond embarrassed by their effusiveness now.

‘Oh I do. I am.’ He was halfway through the crowds—off to find the manager who was in charge of the sales.

Sophy looked at them. It was weird how her heart could sink and lift at the same time. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? To have their approval? To ‘wow’ them like this? So why was she feeling so deflated? ‘Guys, you don’t have to.’

And she realised the problem. It wasn’t them she’d wanted to impress. She wanted Lorenzo with her—here to witness it, here to stand beside her. She’d be so proud then.

Her anger flared within—with herself. She’d spent so long wanting this moment—for her parents to be proud of her. How could she let a guy, especially one whom she’d known for all of three weeks, ruin it all? Why was what he thought suddenly so much more important than everything else?

She made herself smile. ‘I’m really glad you like them.’

‘Like them?’ Her mother looked stunned. ‘Sophy, we had no idea.’

Sophy shrugged her shoulders. ‘You’ve been busy. I’ve been busy too—I did it in my own time.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us you were displaying them tonight?’

‘I wanted an honest reaction.’

Her sister frowned. ‘You were that insecure?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I guess I was. Still am.’

‘Oh, Sophy,’ her mother scolded but folded her into a hug at the same time.

Sophy smiled. They did look good. The jewellery gleamed in the cases, the display was slick, professional and different—vintage inspired but thoroughly modern.

‘Darling, I can’t buy that necklace.’ Her father came back.

Sophy looked up.

‘It’s already sold.’ He was beaming now. It was just like the smile he’d worn when Ted and Victoria had both graduated with their first class law degrees, the smile she’d never seen him bestow on her before. ‘Apparently it was the first item that went. Several of the other pieces have sold now too. It’s a huge success, Sophy.’

Sophy flushed with pleasure.

‘Apparently it sold within five minutes of them opening the doors tonight. Someone was obviously keen.’

Sophy’s flush deepened. Her thoughts instantly flicked to Lorenzo—had he done it? Was he here for her as a surprise? Had he bought the necklace because of what they’d shared? Was this his way of apologising?

Her heart soared with hope.

‘Sophy, there’s someone here wanting to talk to you.’ Her brother touched her shoulder.

Sophy spun, blood thundering in her ears as she looked through the crowds. He was here—he’d come. Someone tapped her other shoulder and she turned again, getting hopelessly giddy, and too full of hope.

‘Surprise!’

‘Oh!’ Sophy gasped. ‘Rosanna!’ She threw her arms around her friend and hugged her close—hiding her disappointment in her friend’s shoulder and her tight hug.

‘You didn’t think I’d really miss it did you?’

Sophy shook her head. She couldn’t speak, her heart full and yet bleeding at the same time. She had such a great friend, such a great family. She had no right to be feeling so crushed. She looked into her friend’s smiling face. ‘Oh, thank you so much for coming.’

Lorenzo sat in his car, still too shocked to even turn the key. He was parked just down the road from the theatre—had been since ten minutes before the doors opened and that was an hour ago now. Fool that he was, he hadn’t been able to resist.

He’d been going to go—say sorry, or something. He hadn’t meant a word of what he’d said yesterday. He’d done it deliberately—pushed at her until she pushed him away. But she was right, he’d been lying. Of course she was special. She was so special he was terrified.

So here he was sitting in his damn monkey suit and everything because he couldn’t let her down completely. But thank goodness he had. Because now he knew.

Braithwaite. It wasn’t that common a surname. He should have made the connection sooner. But he hadn’t bothered to ask too much. And she offered almost as little info about her family as he did his. Now he knew why.

The collar of his shirt seemed to be tightening round his neck—choking him.

He’d seen them arrive before he’d got out and got in there. For once the fates had shown him some mercy. Because the last thing he’d have wanted was to have met the man again in front of Sophy.

Edward Braithwaite—Judge Braithwaite—the man he’d stood before all those years ago. The one who’d condemned him and yet who had offered him that one last chance.

For half an hour tonight, while dressing, he’d deluded himself into thinking he could have fudged it—hadn’t enough time passed? Jayne’s father had sent him packing—he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, wasn’t good enough to invest in back then. And she’d agreed—had laughed at his dreams. He’d just been sex to her.

But ten years had passed since then and things had changed. Some things anyway. So maybe, if it was someone else, he could have pulled it off—skirted round his history and talked up his present successes. But Judge Braithwaite knew everything—had seen him at his worst. He knew the whole sorry story. And no way would he want him anywhere near his precious baby daughter.

Society might give second chances, fathers didn’t. Fathers wanted only the best for their daughters; hell, Lorenzo understood that—he wanted only what was best for Sophy. And that wasn’t him.

He bowed his head over the steering wheel and faced it: it was always going to be this way—as it had been before, it would be again. And it was why he should never have let her get so near to him. The past was inescapable. The perfect life he’d been imagining for just a few moments was a mirage—something that he just wasn’t meant to have. He’d managed his life fine without until now anyway—forging his career, working so hard. He had his hugely successful business, the charity, he had a couple of good friends. But any other intimacy? A woman, a life partner—there could be none.

He would never be good enough for a woman as wonderful as Sophy and he wanted none but her. It didn’t matter how much money he made, how successful his business became, there was always that part of him—that fundamental truth that he always tried to hide even from himself.

But her father knew that truth, and, knowing how much her parents’ approval mattered to Sophy, Lorenzo knew it was over.

She deserved a perfect family, a perfect lover. But it would never be him. He had never been part of a family. Had never been wanted in a family. Damn well didn’t want one of his own. Being alone was what he was used to—secure, uncomplicated. And he had been a fool to think he could ever deal with anything more—or be dealt anything more.

He had to stay away now. He’d let the end he’d engineered her to declare truly be the end. So there was only one thing left for him to do. He’d go to Vance’s bar. And he’d get really, really drunk.

Sophy didn’t remember a thing about the movie that screened. Afterwards she went with her family for coffee and cake—Rosanna came too. But all she could think of was the necklace that had sold so quickly. She knew it was crazy, that she’d read too many romance novels and watched too many Hollywood movies, but she couldn’t help hoping that he’d bought it for her. Maybe he’d sent someone in to buy the necklace. Maybe he’d present it to her in a romantic gesture, an apology for not being there. It was going to be his way of making it up to her. Oh, how she’d love something like that—for someone to go over the top for her, someone going to lengths to do something wonderful for her.

She was such a sad unit.

‘Are you okay?’ Rosanna curled her legs up on the café’s sofa after Sophy’s parents and siblings had called it a night.

Sophy nodded and flopped back into the big armchair. ‘I’m just a bit tired.’

Rosanna reached forward and put her glass on the table carefully. ‘Lorenzo wasn’t there.’

‘No. He said he wouldn’t be.’

Rosanna’s eyes had narrowed. ‘But—’

‘My mother loved those earrings. Did you see her?’ Sophy interrupted. ‘I never thought she’d be into ones that are so dangly.’

‘I know.’ Rosanna went along with the change of topic. ‘So are we going out to party now?’

Sophy laughed and shook her head. It was after one a.m. already. ‘I don’t think so.’

Rosanna shrugged. ‘I can come home if you want.’

‘And eat chocolate ice cream? No, I’m going straight to bed.’

‘Okay. But if you wanted to do the ice cream, you know I’d ditch the plans.’ She paused. ‘I’m going to meet up with Vance.’

‘What about Emmet? And Jay?’

‘Oh, they’re going to the bar too.’

It was the most genuine laugh to burst from Sophy in days.

Rosanna’s face lit up. ‘I have a surprise for you—close your eyes.’

Sophy obeyed, waited for what felt like ages. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes.’ Rosanna chuckled. ‘Okay, you can open them now.’

Sophy did—and stared. Rosanna was wearing the necklace—her necklace.

‘I just loved it.’ Rosanna angled her shoulders one way and then the other, showing off the sparking necklace with its looping swirl.

Sophy made herself swallow the disappointment and bring up a smile. ‘It suits you.’

‘Don’t worry about the display.’ Rosanna leaned forward. ‘I promised I’d bring it back in tomorrow and leave it for the duration of the festival, but I wanted to surprise you tonight.’

And she had.

Sophy gripped her cup closer to her chest. ‘You didn’t have to buy it. I’d have given it to you.’

Rosanna flashed her huge smile. ‘I know, but I didn’t want you to. I wanted you to be a success tonight so I bought it straight away. But then so many others sold too—you’re a legend!’

Sophy was so disappointed it was embarrassing. She’d really thought it had been him. That it was going to be some grand gesture, to have her unwrap it as part of an apology and declaration—of what? His love?

As if.

Hot tears prickled her eyes.

‘Sophy!’ Rosanna looked horrified. ‘I’ve made you cry.’

‘It’s okay.’ She tried to pull it together, but the salty water trickled down her cheeks. Yeah, she had wanted that. It had been the private fantasy that had got her through the last few hours. ‘Thanks so much for doing that. It means a lot.’

It hadn’t been him, of course it hadn’t. She’d been an idiot to think it ever could have been. No, it was her best friend who’d done it for her. She’d been the one to turn up. Sophy knew she should stick to the sisterhood. Men were overrated. ‘You know what?’ She sniffed and reached for her handbag. ‘I am going to come out with you tonight.’

She was not going to go home and wallow. She wasn’t going to waste one more minute of her life mooning over Lorenzo. She had too much to celebrate tonight. She was going to go dancing.

The bar was pumping. Sophy followed Rosanna to the dance floor. Rosanna had sent a text ahead and Emmett and Jay were waiting with drinks for them.

‘Thank you, darlings.’ Rosanna kissed them both.

Sophy managed a smile and downed half her glass’s contents in one shot.

Jay’s brows lifted and he took her arm. ‘Come on, you look like you need a laugh.’

Oh, she did. Jay was a great dancer—held her close, had slick moves and didn’t once make her feel as if she was his second choice partner—though she knew full well she was. She felt her body relaxing into the relentless beat—it blocked all thought from her head and dulled the pain. Yeah, this had been a great idea. She’d dance ’til dawn and then maybe she’d be able to sleep. She stood on tiptoes so he had a chance of hearing her. ‘Thanks, Jay. I’ll put in a word for you.’

He slid his hand round her waist and chuckled. ‘Every little bit helps. But it’s not Emmett I’m worried about. It’s the bar dude.’ He nodded over to the side.

Sophy turned to look. From behind the bar Vance stood tall, positively glaring over at where the four of them were dancing. She couldn’t stop the little laugh. But then it died because someone else stepped up from the back of the bar. Even taller than Vance, Lorenzo was glaring even harder—right at her.

She spun back to face Jay. ‘Shall we dance some more?’

‘Sure.’ He pulled her closer.

But her heart was racing and she could hardly hear the music above the noise in her ears. Only one song later she pushed away. ‘I’m just going to freshen up.’

She ran cold water over her hands and wrists, trying to cool down and slow her pulse. Then she got her lipstick out and took care repairing her slightly worn look. Then she simply stared at her reflection and wished she could teleport out of there. She really hadn’t liked the look in Lorenzo’s eyes.

Finally she left the room. He was leaning against the wall in the corridor, his eyes fixed on the door. She paused—stood back to let another woman past before taking the step clear of the doorway. But she kept her distance from him. Knew getting past him was going to be difficult. He looked like a panther about to pounce.

‘You look like you’re having a good time,’ he drawled.

So did he—his hair was tousled, his eyes burning. He looked as if he’d been propping up the bar for hours.

‘I am.’ She made herself act perky.

‘With one of Rosanna’s cast offs,’ he muttered.

‘He’s charming. He’s good company. He doesn’t take himself too seriously.’

Was that a snort?

She glared at him. ‘Why are you so dressed up?’ Although the tie was gone it was definitely a tux he was wearing. And even though he wore it carelessly, he wore it too well for her comfort.

He shrugged. ‘How did it go?’

‘I didn’t think you were interested.’ She couldn’t stop the bitchiness.

He lifted away from the wall. ‘Sophy.’

‘No.’ She straightened, getting ready to move. ‘I’ve got someone waiting for me.’ She moved fast to get past. But he pounced—just as she’d known he would.

Damn, his hands were fast and he was too strong. In seconds he’d pulled her into a room and locked the door. A toilet. Really classy.

But before she could even start in on the fury she felt he’d pulled her close. His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head back for him to kiss.

But he didn’t go for her mouth—no, it was her jaw, her neck, that spot beneath her ear that they both knew was so sensitive. She could smell the alcohol on him, could feel how thin his control was and then she felt his lips. That damn sweet tenderness that made her feel as if he was worshipping her with his mouth. She fell back, melting into the kisses; his furious passion rose in a flash, sweeping her away.

It had been three days. Three long, lonely days in which she hadn’t felt his touch—and as soon as she did she flamed for him. Despite her hurt and disappointment she still wanted him—desperately.

His kisses deepened as she softened. She panted as he kissed her with ravenous abandon, his hands cupping her butt and rhythmically pressing her against his hard erection as his mouth scalded her skin.

But as his touch grew bolder, more intimate, her brain started screaming at her. He didn’t want to go out with her—be seen together by their friends or family. But he’d whisk her into the nearest, tackiest place he could so he could get his hands on her? He was the proverbial dog in the manger. Not wanting her but not wanting her to have fun with anyone else? Not fair. Not right.

She grabbed his chin and forced it up, making him look into her face. Her nails curled into the vulnerable space just below his jawbone. If she were truly part animal she could kill him this way—pierce the skin and slice his throat. But that wouldn’t serve her purpose at all. She wouldn’t scratch him, couldn’t hurt him—not that way at least—despite the anger burning inside her, and the bottomless well of pain that was feeding it.

For a long moment she looked into his eyes—saw her anger reflected. What bothered him so much? Surely not her dancing with Jay?

No, this anger was too deep for that. And too old. It was the bitterness she’d seen in him before, only tonight it was burning out of control.

She looked away, caught sight of their reflection in the mirror—her face pale, her lips that ridiculous bright red from her forties fashion look.

She turned back to him, brushed her lips against his jaw and then looked at his skin. All praise to the modern cosmetics companies with their long-lasting lip colours—but they’d yet to make them smudge free.

She kissed his jaw again, then down his neck, pressing her lips hard all the way down to the starched white collar of his shirt—and then across that. As she made her mark she let her hands tease him, inflame him, distract him.

‘Sophy.’

She swore she’d heard that old thread of laughter then—yeah, he was so confident of her surrender. She let her hands slip lower—harder.

She heard his hissing breath, felt the surge of energy and braced herself.

But nothing could prepare her for what happened. His hands twisted in her hair as he held her firm and gazed at her. His burning black eyes bored into hers—but there was no laughter in them, not even a smile. He was all serious, so intense and, if she was right, so sad.

It began as the softest kiss. Then his arms went tight around her, sealing their length, and she felt him straining against her, his touch scorching, his need overwhelming.

Finally the kiss eased. It was then that she found it—the strength to push him away. To her surprise he let her, his head snapping back as she shoved him hard in the chest.

She blinked away the tears—of bewilderment, resentment and plain old hurt.

‘Gosh, Lorenzo—’ her voice shook ‘—you have lipstick stains all over your face and all over your shirt.’ Her bitter laugh turned into a sob halfway through. ‘How are you going to hide your dirty little secret now?’

The fury that flashed made her run.

‘Sophy!’

How she got the door open she never knew. But she ran through the crowded bar, desperate for an escape.

Jay materialised in front of her, eyes wide. ‘Sophy?’

Yeah, her little paint job meant she had more than a make-up malfunction now, she probably looked like a reject from clown school with the slut red lipstick smudged all over her chin. ‘Walk me to a cab, would you?’ She had no idea where Rosanna was but would get Jay to pass the message on later.

‘Of course.’ He moved instantly.

‘I’ll do that.’ Lorenzo was on the other side of her.

‘No, you won’t.’ She pushed past him.

‘Are you okay?’ Jay muttered, putting his arm around her, glaring over her head at Lorenzo, who silently stalked next to them.

‘Never better. Will you tell Rosanna I’ve gone home?’

‘Sure.’

They got outside. Jay kept a protective arm looped around her shoulders as he stepped to the kerb and waved his spare arm at the taxi rank not far down the road. The first one peeled off and came towards them. Jay stayed with her, holding the door—blocking it from Lorenzo while she got in.

‘Sophy.’ Deadly quiet but she heard him anyway.

Just before she slammed the door she answered. ‘Not now, Lorenzo. I’m too angry, and you’re too drunk.’