Читать книгу After Hours - Vicki Thompson Lewis - Страница 8

IT WAS NOW OR NEVER. Traynor and Sizemore, the law firm that employed both Benjamin and Eileen, had sent Benjamin to Switzerland for six days. That left Eileen free to enact her sex-with-a-stranger fantasy without any danger of him finding out.

Although she wasn’t breaking any agreement between them, she didn’t want to have sex with someone else right under his nose. Benjamin’s last-minute trip to Switzerland was like being handed an engraved invitation to take care of unfinished business. Sure, she was scared, but that was part of the excitement.

She was also incredibly turned on by the idea of choosing a sexual partner she’d never met before and would never meet again. Unfortunately, she’d seen Benjamin off at Sky Harbor last night at seven, nearly twenty-four hours ago, and since then she’d made no real progress toward her goal. The condoms she’d stashed in her purse this morning in preparation for some wild and crazy adventure were still there, untouched.

From her second-floor office window, she’d spent at least a half-hour watching a good-looking guy down below working with a street-repair crew. She’d just mustered up her courage to go down and speak to him when he’d paused to spit tobacco juice into the gutter. Then the overnight mail courier had looked like a possibility until she’d checked out his wedding band. Her bad luck had continued when the muscled hunk she’d made eye contact with on her lunch break had been joined shortly thereafter by his gay partner.

Scoping out handsome strangers had cut way down on her efficiency at the office today. She’d deleted a valuable file from her hard drive while daydreaming about sex, and now she was stuck at her desk after hours trying to reconstruct it from her scribbled notes.

She could give up the handsome stranger project right now and no one would be the wiser. No, damn it, she wouldn’t forget it. If she did, she’d end up like Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County. She’d rather succumb to temptation before the wedding, not years after when the guilt would probably kill her.

On the drive to the airport Benjamin had reminded her that when he came back at the end of the week, he expected an answer to his question about living together. And he was a damned good catch. He was a cinch to make partner at Traynor and Sizemore a good year ahead of Eileen because he worked harder than she did. He kissed ass better, too. Well, metaphorically speaking. In bed, he wasn’t particularly imaginative, poor guy.

He’d promised that once Eileen shifted her belongings over to his luxury apartment, he’d morph into a more spontaneous lover. She thought it was possible. Some people needed security to let loose, and Benjamin seemed to fit in that group. And maybe it didn’t matter whether he became more sexually impulsive. She didn’t want to put too much importance on one trait.

She’d dated enough guys to know that she’d never find anybody higher on the compatibility scale than Benjamin. Yep, they had the compatibility thing down…except Benjamin didn’t like risks and he wasn’t into sexual fantasies. He’d told her flat out that he didn’t have fantasies, didn’t need them, and wondered about the people who did. That had shut her up fast.

Considering his attitude, she wasn’t about to tell him about the fantasy that had gripped her from the age of eighteen. That was the year Michael Keaton as Batman had stepped through the open window of Kim Basinger’s darkened apartment. Eileen remembered the hot stab of desire she’d felt while sitting in the theater. What would it be like to have an anonymous man in her bedroom? She wanted that thrill for real.

But she’d been in her good-girl mode at eighteen, not wanting to rock the boat. Her parents’ marriage had stabilized by then. At the age of ten she hadn’t understood what had caused the problem, but looking back on it now, she was pretty sure another woman had been part of the equation. Her dad had also bought a Corvette and had tried out local stock-car racing.

But all that was over now. Her parents’ marriage was solid. But Eileen had learned from the experience that adventures need to take place before marriage, before the serious business of creating a family. If she could complete her sex-with-a-stranger project this week, she’d be ready to give Benjamin an answer on Saturday.

However, she’d have to concentrate on the project after she’d finished keying in these notes. Maybe her sexual fantasy was a priority, but keeping her job ranked right up there, too. She wasn’t willing to trade security for adventure. She wanted both.

By seven, she was the only person left in the suite of offices. Not surprising. The Diamondbacks were playing a three-game series at home, and she was one of the few who didn’t have season tickets. Benjamin had suggested they buy some for next year after she moved in with him. Maybe it was his version of a promise ring, to have tickets for next season.

Around seven-thirty, she opened her desk and pulled out the raspberry mocha energy bar that would substitute for dinner. She’d taken the first bite when she heard a clanking noise in the reception area.

Could be the cleaning service, except…that sounded like a power screwdriver, not a vacuum. She tried to imagine why a thief would be using a power screwdriver, or even what there was to steal in the reception area.

She’d have to investigate, but she didn’t want to be stupid, in case an intruder was really out there. All she had in the way of a weapon was her collapsible umbrella, a hold-over from the monsoon season which had pretty much ended a couple of weeks ago.

But as she gripped the umbrella’s plastic handle and pushed back her chair, she remembered about the phone system upgrade. Two days ago everyone had received a memo, but she’d been too involved in her sexual search to think about it again. Some communications company was installing the system tonight, after regular hours, to keep from interrupting business.

She listened for conversation that would confirm that the telephone guys were out there. When no one said a word, she figured out, being fairly smart and a law-school graduate, that one person was working alone. Smiling, Eileen leaned back in her chair, idly caressed the umbrella in her hand and pretended this was her Michael Keaton moment.

Roll the cameras. The sexy lady lawyer would wander into the reception area, and… No, first she’d unfasten the top three buttons of her blouse. Then she would wander into the reception area.

Kneeling on the floor next to the phone jack would be a gorgeous man wearing a tight T-shirt, soft jeans, work boots and a tool belt. The tool belt would ride low on his hips and would contain…lots of tools.

She would clear her throat. He would glance up. Or…wait. She’d walk right up beside him, and he’d look over and notice shapely legs placed conveniently at his eye level. Slowly his gaze would travel upward, appraisingly, until he was staring into her baby blues, mesmerized. No words would be necessary. He would know what to do. And she would let him do it.

In reality, the guy in the reception area probably had a wife, six kids, and a beer belly. Or it wasn’t a guy at all. No reason a woman couldn’t be installing the new system. The way Eileen’s luck had been running today, the installer would definitely be a woman.

The fantasy had been fun for a while, though. As long as she didn’t go out there, she could hold on to it. But she needed to make her presence known. The memo had requested that all personnel vacate the premises by seven. The installer expected an empty suite of offices, and he or she might not appreciate being startled by an employee who’d forgotten about the memo.

With a sigh, she put the umbrella back in her bottom desk drawer, wheeled her chair away from her desk and prepared to go out and burst her fantasy bubble.

SHANE NICHOLS TOOK OFF the faceplate on the telephone jack and inspected the wiring. Looked like it would support the added lines the client had requested, no problem. Funny, he’d been hoping for more of a challenge. He’d forgotten how much he loved the hands-on part of this business.

To think at one time he’d been eager for Mercury Communications to take off so that he could hire other people to do the actual installations. His dream had come true, leaving him stuck behind a desk while everybody else had the fun of going out on jobs. His job was now all about drumming up business and keeping current clients happy. Even when he left the office, he felt obliged to keep his pager and his cell with him at all times, in case a client had an emergency.

Both were nestled in his tool belt right now. He’d built his business on personal service, and in the beginning he’d loved that aspect. But little by little, like a creeping kudzu vine, the personal service aspect had obliterated his free time. If he didn’t deal with problems himself, especially for long-standing customers, they accused him of being a big shot who didn’t have time for them.

To be fair, there might be other aspects of the business he could let go of, but he didn’t know how. He’d handled everything himself for so long that he couldn’t imagine turning decisions over to someone else, someone without his background, someone who would probably screw it up. He’d created a monster.

At least tonight he could have fun with an installation, although he’d probably be interrupted by calls. Lou had been assigned this job, but Lou’s wife had unexpectedly gone into labor with their first kid. Lou needed to be with her.

Shane had leaped at the chance to take over and install the new system at Traynor and Sizemore. He must have sounded way too cheerful about giving up his evening, because Lou had asked him if something was wrong.

Hell, yes, something was wrong. His life was a mess, and he had only himself to blame. He’d created a company that now controlled his life. He’d sell it, but then he’d worry about how his employees would be treated. They were all terrific and wouldn’t be happy about a new owner.

He’d never imagined that success could be such a pain in the ass. The piles of paperwork on his desk grew taller every day, too. Mercury consumed so much of his time that he had no hobbies, no social life, barely even watched TV. His parents and brother had been after him about how hard he worked, and he kept promising to cut back, somehow. They were empty promises.

If this installation hadn’t forced him out of the office tonight, he might still be working at his desk, computer turned on, files open everywhere. Innovations in communications networks happened constantly, and he had to keep up if Mercury was to stay competitive.

But tonight he could forget about everything but upgrading the system for Traynor and Sizemore. The silence in the office building soothed him. Ironically for a guy who peddled phones, he’d started to hate the sound of the damn things ringing.

Now that it was too late, he knew what he wanted. His perfect life would include living in a small town, working a nine-to-five job for somebody else, and simply enjoying himself in his free time. More specifically, he wanted to enjoy himself in a particular way, i.e., with some special woman.

He’d even imagined what she’d look like. She’d be a blue-eyed blond, because he was a sucker for blonds, blonds with hair down past their shoulders. He didn’t require centerfold measurements, but he’d like her to have a figure that would look good in the lingerie he’d buy for her.

Not too long ago he’d seen a woman who matched that description in this very building, which was probably why he was thinking about the subject now. He’d had a tantalizing glimpse of her through an open door on his way back to Traynor’s office to discuss the installation. She’d been concentrating on her work and hadn’t looked up.

Because she was a lawyer, she’d satisfy another requirement of his: she’d be smart. But one glance couldn’t verify whether she had a sense of adventure, and he wanted that in a woman, especially when it came to sex. He harbored his share of fantasies, and most of them were unfulfilled.

Maybe he was asking too much of one woman and nobody would be able to fit his admittedly ambitious specs. But he’d never know if he didn’t go looking. With the demands of his company, he’d had precious little time to do that.

He was so lost in his daydream of the perfect woman that when someone coughed, he jumped and dropped his cordless screwdriver. Looking up, he did a classic double take. Standing just inside the hallway was his blue-eyed blonde, the same woman he’d seen so briefly through an office doorway. She stood posed in a way that showed off a Victoria’s Secret figure. And she was smiling.

EILEEN’S HEART BEAT fast enough to make her ears ring. On the far side of the reception area stood a red metal dolly loaded with boxes, presumably holding new telephone equipment. But the boxes didn’t interest her. The man kneeling on the carpet beside the telephone jack did. Maybe she’d been concentrating so hard on finding the perfect stranger that she’d caused one to appear, like a genie out of a bottle.

However it had happened, there he was, her fantasy come to life. Rumpled black hair, green eyes, square jaw—and that was only the beginning. She’d put in an order for a rugged guy in jeans and a T-shirt, and he’d filled it. The T-shirt wasn’t quite snug enough to suit her, but his chest created an excellent backdrop for his company logo, a Greek god with wings on his feet. Mercury Communications was spelled out in navy on a gray background. He wore no rings, wedding or otherwise.

All her specifications had been met, even to the leather tool belt strapped around his lean hips. If Benjamin’s trip to Switzerland had been an engraved invitation to sin, then this man’s appearance was a red carpet rolled right up to the toes of her high-heeled pumps. But she had to play it right.

She cleared her throat and hoped her voice wouldn’t tremble. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His direct gaze disconcerted her.

“We got a memo about this installation, but the whole thing slipped my mind. I stayed late to get some work done.”

“Oh.”

He seemed at a bit of a loss for words, and she wondered if she could have great sex with a stranger who had zero social skills. She’d never given that angle much thought because conversation hadn’t been part of her fantasy.

“I hope I didn’t startle you too much,” she continued, thinking that eventually he’d have to utter more than two words or this fantasy would never get off the ground.

“You did startle me.” He got to his feet, picked up the cordless screwdriver and laid it on the receptionist’s desk. “But not for the reason you think.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Yet she was very glad that he could form complete sentences when he chose to.

“I was just thinking about—” He paused and shook his head. “Never mind. Look, if I’m interrupting your work, I can come back in a couple of—”

“Tell me what you were thinking about.” She had a hunch it would lead to something good.

“You’re going to think it’s a line. And I don’t do lines.”

Now she definitely had to hear what he’d been about to say. “Try me.”

He eyed her for a moment. “Okay. It just so happens that while I was working just now, I was picturing my ideal woman.”

It did sound like a pickup line, but somehow she didn’t think he meant it that way. Her mouth grew moist with anticipation. “I look something like your ideal woman?”

“Except that your hair is up like that, yes, you look exactly like her.”

Without giving herself any time to think, she reached up and pulled out the two tortoiseshell combs holding her hair in place.

He drew in a quick breath. “Why did you do that?”

She paused for a beat and held his gaze. “Because while I was in there working, I was thinking about my ideal man.”

“That’s hard to believe.” But he looked very much like he wanted to believe it.

“It’s true.”

He shifted his weight. “Are you saying that I…”

“Yes.” Amazing how the simple act of taking her hair down aroused her, just as it seemed to be arousing him. The gesture felt more intimate than stripping naked.

“So we were each thinking the same thing at the same time.”

“Looks that way.” She trembled as she contemplated the next step. She would have to be the aggressor. As the employee of a company licensed and bonded to work inside corporate offices like Traynor and Sizemore, he wouldn’t dare step out of line unless she made him feel completely safe.

“Ideals don’t truly exist in the real world,” she said.

“Don’t try to tell me this isn’t real. And I’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming,” he said with a crooked grin.

“This moment may be real. But our view of each other is likely skewed right now. We may seem to fit each other’s ideal, but I’m sure neither of us is close to perfect.”

“I’d never claim to be perfect. No human is—even you, I suppose.” He grinned again. “But I still say you look a lot like the picture I’ve been carrying around in my head.”

“I could say the same about you.” She responded to everything about him—the sound of his voice, the scent of his aftershave, the subtle gestures he made with his hands. And he reacted to her, too. She could see it in his eyes and the flare of his nostrils.

“Look, we both have work to do,” he said. “What if we go back to it, and when we’re finished, we can go out, have a drink and find out a little more about each—”

“No.”

He appeared taken aback for a moment. Then his gaze sharpened. “You’re married.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She was grateful for legal training that had taught her how to present her case. “If we go out for a drink, if we take this in a conventional direction, we’ll lose the chance to create something extraordinary right now.”

He stared at her, his throat moving in a swallow. “Are you talking about what I think you are?”

She sensed tension, but excitement shone in his eyes, too. “Just so you know, I’ve never done anything like this in my life.”

He continued to stare at her.

The trick would be convincing him she could be trusted, when he had no reason to believe that. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. If anybody found out about it, you’d be fired. Worse than fired. But I promise you, no one will find out. This is between you and me. I could get in a lot of trouble, too, you know.”

“Not as much as I could.” He sighed and shook his head. Then he chuckled softly. “I have to admit, for a second there I was considering it. Never mind that you’re a lawyer who would know all about how to sue me six ways to Sunday. Never mind that everything I’ve worked for could go right down the tubes.” His green eyes blazed. “Idiot that I am, I was still thinking about it.”

Her body responded to his admission, throbbing with pent-up needs. Her mind recognized that she still had a shot. “Think about it some more.”

He shook his head. “Way too dangerous.”

“What if I told you that for years I’ve had a fantasy of making it with a stranger? I’m not a flake. My semi-serious boyfriend has asked me to move in with him, and I plan to do that. But before I make that kind of commitment, I want to—”

“This semi-serious boyfriend—where is he?”

“Temporarily in Switzerland on business.”

“I suppose he’s also a lawyer?”

“Does it matter?”

He laughed. “Hell, yes, it matters. Getting beat up by a jealous boyfriend is one thing. Being hauled into court and deprived of a huge hunk of money is something else again, not to mention the damage to my reputation. You’re asking me to run a big risk, just for—”

“For an unforgettable experience.” She built on her knowledge that he’d been daydreaming about his ideal woman. A man who did that probably had a fantasy life. “Don’t tell me you’ve never imagined something like this.”

“That’s not the point. Fantasy’s one thing, reality is another.”

“It’s exactly the point. Both of us have a chance to act out a fantasy, with no repercussions. That chance doesn’t come along every day.”

There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes, but still he shook his head.

“If you don’t take advantage of this, you’ll regret it forever.” She certainly would. She couldn’t imagine a better setup than this one to satisfy her craving for anonymous sex.

“So all you want from me is—”

“This moment. I’ve already found Mr. Right, and he’s away in Switzerland for a few days. I’m asking you to be Mr. Right Now.” The situation made her bold, and she slid her gaze down to the telling bulge below his tool belt. At least she’d scored that much of a victory.

In the art of persuasion, timing was everything. Sometimes, you had to stop talking and give your words a chance to take effect. “It’s up to you,” she said. “If you’re interested, I’ll be in my office.” Then she turned slowly and walked down the hall, issuing a silent invitation with every sway of her hips.