Anna Cleary – In Bed With Her Tall, Sexy Handsome Boss: All Night with the Boss / The Boss's Wife for a Week / My Tall Dark Greek Boss (страница 15)
Marnie watched over her shoulder as she scrolled through the pages. ‘Looks great to me. Awesome. You are done!’ she said at the conclusion.
Lissa let out a breath in relief and began to tidy away her things. Her hands shook slightly as she tried to work methodically through the pile.
Marnie’s voice seemed to come from a distance. ‘Hey, you’re really flushed. Are you sure you’re OK?’
She looked up and summoned the strength from who knew where to reply. ‘It’s just a headache.’ She waved a vague hand at the computers. ‘All that staring at the screen.’
Marnie smiled and nodded. ‘Go home and SLEEP. You’re so lucky this is all finished for you tonight. We’ve still got the big exam in the morning.’
She smiled weakly. Yes, for her it was over. Tomorrow she’d be back at her usual desk in the information centre. HQ would be a plain old meeting room again. The paper removed from the windows. Rory would be working on the floor below. The soreness in her throat sharpened.
‘Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’ her voice rasped. She avoided looking at Rory by fussing with her bag.
‘No,’ she heard him say quietly. ‘You’ve done more than enough for tonight. We can take it from here.’ He paused. ‘Thank you.’
Did she imagine that tender stress in the way he said thank you? She couldn’t bear it. As she reached the door she turned and addressed the room in general. ‘Good luck for tomorrow.’
By the time she got home she was shaking head to toe. Alternately hot then cold, it was all she could do to get a glass of water, strip off her suit, pull an old tee shirt on and collapse into bed. Restful sleep eluded her. Flashes of moments with Rory span chaotically in her mind. She relived snatches of their meetings, the flare between them. She tossed and turned, her body either aching or on fire. It was close to dawn and the birds had started chirping when she finally descended into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Five
RORY ran up the stairs back at the office with more energy than a nuclear reactor. The blood in his veins sang. He felt vitally alive and his excitement was palpable. James and Marnie had fed off it too. The meeting had been fantastic. The client had bought it hook, line and sinker and awarded a massive project to Franklin. He’d proved his right to win that promotion well and truly.
And now he was going to win what he’d really been racing for. Lissa. No holding back. Last night, she’d blown him away. So passionate. So damn hot. Utterly on fire for him. He’d nearly lost all reason and had her on the table then and there. How good that would have looked when James and Marnie walked back in with that pizza.
He laughed aloud exultantly. He’d hardly slept but he wouldn’t have with the meeting today anyway. He didn’t mind that it had scuppered the chance of being with her last night. It made the prospect of tonight even more exciting. It felt as if he’d wanted her for ever. It had been good to have the presentation to concentrate on in the end; reciting facts and figures had been a way to finally get to sleep rather than twisting and turning all night with the most enormous erection of his life. Of course, he’d been dreaming of her when he woke. The ache in his body had been growing since the night he first met her. She was so alive. So refreshingly blunt. Her laughter. So sexy with those long legs and caramel hair. But her reluctance in the office nearly killed him. It was all he could do to stop himself from teasing her, tormenting her into betraying herself. Making her reveal the sparkle and enthusiasm he knew bubbled under that cool façade.
His body tightened at the thought of the night to come. Unbuttoned and tousled. Oh, yes, it was all going to happen. After her response last night he knew she wouldn’t say no to him.
He wasn’t sure what she’d wanted to do just as the others got back. He’d seen the fear in her eyes and guessed she wanted to try to push him away again. But she couldn’t. She’d opened up to him and going back now was impossible. He
He strode into the library wanting to establish a date even before going to debrief George, the managing partner, on how the meeting had gone. He came to an abrupt halt by her empty chair. Damn. He looked around, encountering Gina’s bland look.
‘She’s not here,’ she said.
Disappointment hit him in the chest and a bad feeling rose with it.
‘She’s at home. Sick.’
He flinched, the bad feeling bang on. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Flu, I think. She sounded terrible.’ Gina and Hugo were both watching him closely. Did they know something of what was going on with him and Lissa? Frankly he didn’t care what they thought, but he knew Lissa did.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to let her know how we got on today.’
Hugo nodded and went back to his work. Rory glanced at Gina. Her sceptical ‘yeah, right’ expression let him know he hadn’t fooled her one iota. He winked and left.
An hour and a bit later, after meeting George with James and Marnie and wangling the afternoon off as time in lieu, he was bounding up another flight of stairs. Thank God he’d driven her home that night otherwise he’d have had to con her address out of Gina or HR. That would have definitely raised eyebrows.
He reached the door of her flat and pounded on it. If she was sick, he’d take care of her.
Hell.
He’d do anything for this woman.
He stopped banging as he absorbed that idea. Anything?
No, he’d do the same for anybody who was unwell. Compassion, a normal human reaction. He wasn’t driven by any greater urgency just because it was Lissa, was he?
He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in a while, didn’t want one. Had dated, sure, but nothing much more. He’d been too preoccupied with his career. Damn it, he was still preoccupied with his career. Only now something else demanded his attention.
Lissa.
After waiting a while he rapped again, harder this time, unable to stop the drive that insisted he see her. Finally, he heard some movement on the other side of the door. It opened a fraction and when he saw her big tawny eyes staring at him in surprise, he pushed it right open.
She was wearing an old white tee shirt over panties and nothing else. At least he hoped she wore panties; the shirt hung down to mid-thigh and he couldn’t quite tell. All the blood in his body headed south—fast. He forced his eyes back up.
A sheen of sweat bathed her face and her eyes looked huge in her pale face. Huge and slightly glazed. She’d twisted her hair back into a loose, low pony-tail but large sections were escaping. He thought she looked beautiful, but while his gut twisted with desire he could see she was in no way up to a marathon session of love-making. She looked about ready to collapse on the spot. The protective male bit in him reared its head.
‘What?’ She looked stunned to see him.
‘I wanted to make sure you were OK.’ Well, he wanted that and a few other things, but they’d have to wait right now.
‘I’m fine.’ She leant back against the wall for support.
‘No, you’re not,’ he said softly, stepping into the tiny hall and closing the door behind him.
She pulled upright with visible effort and walked through into the main room. Rory followed, looking about him with growing concern. The place was tiny. A studio apartment and freezing to boot. His concern leapt into worry and then manifested as irritation. He couldn’t help but notice the big bed in the corner with the sheets in disarray. He looked away hurriedly. She obviously wasn’t sleeping too good, judging by the way the covers were tossed about. Either that or she never made her bed.
‘Have you eaten?’ He tried to focus back to the basics.
She shook her head weakly.
‘Drunk anything?’
Again she shook her head.
His voice rose in irritation. ‘Taken any medication?’
She put up a hand. ‘Don’t start lecturing me. I’m fine; it’s just a wee bug.’
He stood back watching as she tottered back to the bed, obviously trying to control the shivering. ‘Like hell it’s a wee bug. You look half dead.’ He swung around the room. ‘Where’s the kitchen in this place?’
She gestured to the bi-folding cupboard doors in the far corner. He wrenched them open and stared in disbelief. The kitchen, or kitchenette he supposed it would be called, consisted of a bar fridge, a shelf for groceries, about three plates and assorted mismatched cutlery, a microwave, twin hotplate and sink. He looked at the few packets on the shelf. Cereal, cereal and more cereal. All quarter to half full. He opened the fridge, already knowing what he’d find.
Just as he’d thought; skimmed milk and a couple of tubs of yoghurt. The bottle of chocolate sauce standing alone on the middle shelf diverted him momentarily. Wrenching his mind away from the extremely exciting vision of licking chocolate off her breasts, he slammed the door shut with force. ‘This is ridiculous. What do you eat?’
‘There’s a supermarket just around the corner,’ she replied defensively. ‘I haven’t been for a couple of days.’
‘Obviously. No wonder you’re so trim. You’re half starved.’