Everything You Need: Everything For You Trilogy Book 1 (8 page)

“I’m sure I never did any such thing,” I lie, realising he’s never going to let me forget a mistake. And it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Are you?” He stares at my shocked expression. “Don’t worry. I didn’t take advantage. You were far too drunk to say no and I was a bit too mad at your stunt to trust myself. But imagine if I wasn’t so scrupulous. Happily you’re sober now and I’m a little less angry with you.” He sweeps the backs of his fingers across my collar bone.

I place my hand over his to stop him.

“You want more? Less?” he enquires.

I’m too stunned, too aroused to reply but I remove my hand from impeding his. I suppose it’s an answer of sorts.

He closes the edges of my blouse together, rejecting me and I push his hands away, embarrassed by my easy need, swiftly buttoning myself up to the neck again. I’m twenty-two, for God’s sake, not some foolish girl. And a company boss, with employees depending on me. What’s wrong with me?

“How can I help you, Tabitha, if you won’t even talk to me?”

“We have nothing to say to each other,” I whisper. It’s four years too late for words.

Yet my fingers itch to touch his strong masculine jaw line with its faintest of clefts in the chin and the barest hint of shadow. And those translucent blue eyes. Why have I never seen such pure Arctic depths before?

“Yet, here you are.”

“This is different. It’s business.”

“So you do want my help.”

“No.”

His eyebrows rise.

“I want a chance to prove myself. What I mean is, to prove that I can continue to fulfil your needs… Zee-Com’s advertising requirements.” I’m prattling like a mindless idiot. I sound like I couldn’t fulfil a shopping list.

“Then we have a place to begin.”

I like the ambiguity of that statement even less. “What exactly do you have in mind?” My question comes out in a rush.

“As you are forgoing your usual Friday night... pursuits, I thought you might have dinner with me this evening instead, so we might discuss this matter further.”

Dinner? Whatever I expect him to say, it isn’t that. He’s led me to believe it would be so much worse. Or so much better. My pulse races. Am I disappointed? How foolish would that make me? I’m still acting like an exposed nerve-ending around him. It’s a perfectly legitimate professional activity to go to dinner to discuss business.

“Of course.” I’m relieved to find my voice sounds normal.

“It’s a start.”

A start?

He leans over, laying his forearms along the curved oak arms of the captain’s chair on which I sit, placing his upper body close to mine. Much too close. His eyes glitter. “Would you be prepared to attend a breakfast meeting, too?”

“Natura… Hang on.” What a dupe! Abruptly I understand the exact nature of his question in the lilt of his voice; in the line of his delighted mouth. “Are you asking me to sleep with you, Jack Keogh?”

I must have been hypnotised. It doesn’t usually take this long to cotton on to the proposition of some smooth-talking guy. It isn’t as if I haven’t received lame ‘get your coat you’ve pulled’ lines like that before. Guys find me attractive enough, except it’s usually in some wine bar or dark nightclub at the end of a long evening with both of us a little bit too ruined for our own good. Occasionally I’ve even been reckless enough to agree. Swap boardroom for bedroom. A few letters but a whole dynamic of difference. I’m speechless.

Jack pushes me for an answer. “I’m trying to find out just how badly you want to do business with me.”

I recover. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you.”

“It isn’t a compliment.”

“I like it when you say it anyway.” His steady gaze defies me.

“Is this your idea of helping me?”

“You don’t want my help, Miss Caid.” His expression is decidedly smug. “So, your answer to my question?” He’s relentless. Ruthless. He’s laying another huge trap for me to fall into.

Do I want his business badly enough to sleep with him to get it? It wouldn’t be the first time a man and woman have done business that way. It would be the first time I had. But Jack? I doubt it. He’s a virile, sexual guy and he knows it. The type I generally go out of my way to avoid like swine flu. Too magnetic, too materially endowed, too damn sure of themselves. A lethal cocktail.

But the truth is, my business will diminish if he withdraws his. And all these thoughts of withdrawal aren’t helping my composure one little bit. I swear I can feel the slide of his hard body over mine after years of honing that particular fantasy. I squeeze my thighs together as he stares, sincerely hoping he has no idea what’s going on in my head or my body. Right now, I wouldn’t be surprised about anything he knows.

But this will literally be getting into bed with the client – no distancing metaphors here. It isn’t exactly ethical but do I really care? It isn’t like he’ll be forcing me. I can always refuse him later after I’ve had another chance to persuade him about the contract.

“I don’t really object to the idea, in principle.” Who am I kidding? I’ve imagined doing exactly that – and a whole lot more – with Jack Keogh, for years.

“I’m not sure I’m clear about your answer. I want you to be completely transparent about what you’re agreeing to. You may be relatively new to all this but clarity is a cardinal rule in business.”

Business? Jack abandoned me, untouched, an innocent little virgin. Would it be better to finally get him out of my system, once and for all or would I be opening myself up to the miseries of hell once more?

He waits without a shadow of embarrassment, devoid of all contrition. The fact I haven’t said no immediately must scream to him I’m considering it. The thought embarrasses me no end. But, oh yes, I’m considering it. And my body’s way ahead of me. My breasts ache. I feel a wild throbbing deep down low. I imagine, fleetingly, sliding off my seat, shimmying my tight skirt up around my hips and straddling his lap here and now. I’m almost certain he wouldn’t refuse me. He’d trail his fingers across the soft skin of my inner thighs, moving upwards… Stop!

There’s no way I’m going to humiliate myself over Jack again.

He smiles. Can he read my body as easily as my mind? I’d put money on it. A whole business worth of money.

My belly quivers at the possibility of him finally on top of me, naked. I can’t help imagining him, weight resting on his forearms as he rears above me holding my gaze the way he does now, pressing his hips into mine with each long, thick, delicious stroke. His lush lips, hot and greedy drawing on my tender, swollen flesh.

I want what he’s long denied me. I want to make love with him. “I want your business.” I blurt out my answer hoping I’ve voiced the correct thought.

“Clarify.”

Do I know exactly what I’m agreeing to? I do. Oh God, I do. I hope I do. Again that little flutter of anticipation and doubt, rides low in my belly. “You’re asking if I would stay the night with you.”

“Just so.” He nods. “To get me to reconsider.”

Only reconsider? I have to be careful. He’s already pointed out my lack of business sense.

“I agree to stay with you from dinner until breakfast, if you give fair consideration to CaidCo continuing to handle Zee-Com’s advertising account.” He opens his mouth to speak but this is my turn. “And listen to our proposals. Judge them on their merits.” I won’t have anyone thinking I’ve slept my way to success. All I want is a fair chance.

“You mean, not dismiss your ideas out of hand, once I’ve had my wicked way with you.” Jack waggles his eyebrows at me like some operatic version of Bluebeard.

I don’t find his theatrics quite as amusing as he clearly does. This only means one night of hot, illicit sex to him. Can I believe he hasn’t noticed that I didn’t exactly agree to have sex with him? I’m just leaving the door open.

“Exactly.” I can play his cold, hard game too.

“If you have dinner with me tonight, Miss Caid, and stay with me until breakfast then I promise I will listen to your proposal and give it my full and fair consideration. Will that do?”

It suddenly seems too easy; him, too casual about the whole thing. Where is the catch? Is there a catch? Perhaps he makes deals like this with women he fancies all the time. But what do I have to lose? It’s only one night. It isn’t as if I’m some timid virgin any longer. In fact the way he looks at me, makes me feel more like a negotiating call-girl.

I ignore the warning pulsating round my belly, swallow hard and stick out my hand to shake his. “Agreed.”

Jack seems to find this highly diverting. His eyes shine like pure Arctic waters.

“Tabitha.” He takes hold of my hand to shake on the deal. But swiftly spins it round, slowly raising it to his lips as my stomach roils. He presses a soft kiss against the sensitive skin of my inner wrist hinting at the suppressed restraint of his lust.

I jump at the intimate touch. My stomach flips but he grips me firmly and I don’t want to look like some nervous schoolgirl snatching my hand back in alarm, no matter that’s exactly how I’m feeling. It’s far too late to cover the fact I’m blushing like a cloistered nun. A hot blaze burns through my skin.

Everything Jack Keogh does, takes me by surprise. A night spent alone with him might not be such a good idea but it’s to save my business. If he wants to make it pleasure too, who am I to disagree?

For one night only.

Chapter Four

Jack is behaving like a complete bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing and is enjoying every single moment of it, I swear to God.

“I’ll send a car for you at eight.”

When he releases my hand but continues to stare down at it, intrigued, I’m made aware I’m rubbing my thumb repeatedly over the place he pressed his lips. I stop. His lips curve upwards as he looks up at me once more. He’d better not think I liked what he did. Any of it. My appearance of cool self-assurance is rattled.

“No need. I’ll drive myself.” I must keep some control. If I decide later I can’t go through with it I’d prefer to have my own means of transport home.

His eyes narrow. “That would be a deal breaker. And make it seven thirty.”

He’s adding half an hour as a penalty? I stare at him but look away again. I shrug. “If it’s that important… You have the address.”

“Yes. How’s the new door working out?”

I refuse to be flustered. “Serviceable. Like the one before it. Haven’t you tried your keys yet?”

“For emergencies only.” He’s smiling but I’m not.

“Oh, like the middle of the night?”

He scowls. “If necessary.”

I don’t doubt it. I stand. His eyes travel the length of my body assessing, appraising until I feel partially asphyxiated in my hideous grey outfit.

He makes me feel old-fashioned. Ashamed of myself. I hate that he can do that with one look, just because he wears five thousand pound made-to-measure Brioni or whatever, on his back. I haven’t had time to update my wardrobe since Harry died and I got thrust headlong into running the business. It’s not the money. I simply have other priorities.

Like drinking.

“Seven thirty it is then.” I walk to the locked door, cringing as I realise I’ve conceded to his first two demands already. His car. His time. Some negotiator I am.

“And I insist on first names,” he states.

“In private,” I counter.

“Agreed. For now. Oh, and it’s formal wear,” he adds, incapable of backing down with his incessant demands.

I ice over. When do I have time to buy a formal dinner gown as well he knows? He’s had his fingers on everything I own, knickers included. I refuse to even think about one particular item he encountered which I’ve removed the batteries from. I’d always think about him.

I always did anyway.

“I’ll send a dress at five.” His voice dares me to challenge his decision and I realise he’s raising the stakes already.

I pause, allowing my breath to settle before I speak, not even bothering to turn around. I’m not sure I want to see the expression on his face at this moment. “I’m perfectly capable of dressing for a business dinner, Mr Keogh.” I make it abundantly clear that’s the only thing I’m interested in.

“Did we not agree first names, Tabitha?”

“In private,” I remind him.

“I don’t see anyone else here. I have no doubt you’re perfectly capable of dressing for dinner. Except you don’t know my tastes.”

I nearly choke on my own saliva. “Do I need to?” Only half-turned now, I address him over my shoulder.

He repeats the words slowly. “It’s a deal breaker.” If this phrase is designed to bug me, it couldn’t have been better chosen. It bugs me.

Only a thin veil conceals my annoyance at his presumption but if he thinks I’m as open-heartedly guileless now as I was once, he’s mistaken. I learnt my lesson the hard way. I can hide my true feelings with the best of them.

I shrug. “It’s your party, Jack.” Let him think I’m unaffected by his provocative behaviour, by his mouth on my skin. “I don’t suppose I need tell you my size either.” I turn and stare at him directly. His hot looks almost send me up in flames.