Читать книгу Play Thing - Nicola Marsh - Страница 17

WHEN ALEX HAD called the staff into the conference room at lunchtime, Charlotte had expected a pep talk.

She’d been impressed by his team-bonding exercise at morning tea and hadn’t been afraid to tell him. It boded well that they’d resorted to polite indifference. She could do this. Work alongside him. Without constantly thinking about how damn incredible he’d felt inside her.

Yikes. That was the fifth time this afternoon she’d let her mind slip back to yesterday. She blamed him. If he didn’t keep strutting around the office looking delectable in a navy suit, pale blue shirt and trendy stripy tie, she wouldn’t be reminded of how hard his muscles had felt beneath that suit when she’d hung on for the ride of her life.

‘Not helping,’ she muttered as she prepared for the last client of the day. A call-up that she usually would have postponed until tomorrow considering she’d officially clocked off thirty minutes ago.

But with Alex’s less than encouraging speech ringing in her ears, she needed to prove her indispensability and what better way than working late?

Her co-workers had skedaddled at five, either too intimidated by Alex’s threatening speech or too stupid to care. Whatever their reasoning, it didn’t affect her. She had a job to do: to prove to the boss she’d inadvertently shagged that she’d become essential to taking the company forward.

Hopefully, taking on an unexpected client and working late would go some way to convincing him she’d do whatever it took to consolidate her position.

She also had an ulterior motive. If she impressed him with her work and appeared keen to toe his new company line, it would show him she’d forgotten their encounter. That it meant little in the grand scheme of their working relationship.

Utter bollocks, but it was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

Her new client turned out to be an ex-rugby league player who needed a new accountant to manage his business interests, a string of lucrative pubs. He dwarfed her office with his height and broad shoulders, which she couldn’t help but notice in the vest top he wore, with shorts that accentuated well-toned legs.

In the past she’d surreptitiously ogle a guy like this, lamenting the fact he’d never notice a girl like her beyond her mathematical skills. But today, something had changed. The client openly flirted with her—and she enjoyed it.

Maybe the wild sex she’d had with Alex had given her a much-needed confidence boost, maybe wearing sensuous satin underwear for the first time made her meet the guy’s eye when she’d usually look away. Whatever it was, she liked feeling this empowered. It boded well for chasing her dream.

‘You’ve done a great job with keeping accurate records.’ She turned the computer screen towards him. ‘This is the program we use so whatever you need, don’t hesitate to get in touch.’

His wolfish smile revealed a row of startlingly white teeth. ‘Does that include calling you after hours?’

Her inner vixen did a little shimmy that he’d be remotely interested in her ‘after hours’.

Her inner accountant shut down that vapid vixen quick smart.

‘I’m available to answer your accountancy questions from nine ’til five.’

‘Pity,’ he said, his grin widening. ‘If you ever fancy a drink, drop by one of my pubs and the staff will let me know you’re around.’

‘Thanks.’ She stood to escort him to the door. ‘But I don’t mix business with pleasure. It’s unprofessional and you wouldn’t want someone like that handling your finances.’

He managed a rueful shrug while she hoped her nose wouldn’t grow from telling that whopping great lie.

Because she had mixed business with pleasure, even if she hadn’t known it at the time, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Worse, how it might feel to do it again.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said, waiting until the elevator doors had slid shut to toe off her shoes, pick them up and head to her office to pack up her things.

She’d almost reached her office when Alex’s door flung open and she jumped. ‘I thought you’d left with everyone else?’