Текст книги "This Man"
Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 32 страниц)
‘Nice to meet you, Kate.’ he says smoothly, maintaining his grin and running his free hand through his mousey waves.
‘You too.’ She arches a brow.
She’s a brazen hussy! She’s flirting with him. She giggles as Sam compliments her on her wild, red hair, their hands still linked. My phone declares a text. To escape the blatant flirting exchange going on in front of me, I pick it up and open the message with one eye closed.
There better be a GOOD fucking reason for you standing me up. Someone had better be dying. I’m going out of my fucking mind, lady. NO KISS
Ah, he’s worried! My heart does an unexpected skip of approval, but then I snap myself out of my pathetic bubble of contentment, reminding myself that I’m not answerable to him. He certainly likes compliance. Besides, I didn’t stand him up; I delayed a business meeting. My poor bloody brain feels like it could explode. What’s happening to me? I put my phone on the table and look up to see Kate performing the best flirting act I’ve ever witnessed. She’s such a tart, and their hands are still clasped.
She drags her attention away from Sam to look at me. ‘Jesse?’ she asks unashamedly. I kick her under the table, feeling Sam’s eyes on me. I’ll kill her.
‘Jesse?’ Sam asks. ‘He just called. He’ll be here in a minute.’
What?
Kate starts laughing like a hyena, earning her another boot under the table. Did Sam tell him I was here?
‘I’d better be off,’ I go to stand. ‘Kate,’ I smile sweetly as she gets her laughter under control. ‘Haven’t you got a two thirty appointment?’
‘Nope.’ She smiles back, trumping my sweetness level. She’s a pain in the fucking arse.
I narrow my eyes on her, picking up my bag and phone. ‘Well, I’ll see you later then. It was nice to see you again, Sam.’
He releases Kate’s hand and kisses me on the cheek. ‘Yeah, and you, Ava. Keep it real.’
I turn to leave, but swing back around, all straight faced and cool. ‘Oh, Kate. Dan’s back next week.’ I toss it into the air like a grenade and wait for the explosion. It takes just a nanosecond for her jaw to drop, like a huge lump of lead, to the table.
Ha! I fling her a don’t-mess-with-me look and turn on my heels with immense satisfaction. My smugness is short lived, though. Jesse is stood behind me, glaring at me like a rabid dog. I shrink on the spot
‘Who’s dead?’ he barks.
He’s really mad. ‘I was at work.’ I defend myself nervously.
He scowls at me, good and proper. ‘And that renders you incapable of answering your phone, does it?’ His voice is dripping with displeasure.
Oh yes, me not answering his calls might be a contributing factor to his annoyance. I turn and find Kate and Sam silently observing our little altercation. Kate starts looking anywhere and everywhere but our direction, and Sam struggles to regain control of his raised eyebrows, doing a really rubbish job of looking uninterested. I sigh, turning back to Jesse, who still looks like he’s about to hit something.
‘I have to get back to work.’ I say, sidestepping him and leaving the bar. This is beyond an over-reaction and dangerously in the realms of controlling and manipulating. Neither of which I want.
I walk out onto Piccadilly and into the lunchtime crowd. I know he’s following me. I can feel his penetrating green eyes stabbing at my back.
As I turn into Berkeley Street, the crowd thins out, and I glance back, finding him stalking behind me, his eyes full of fury. He does look delicious in his charcoal suit and pale blue shirt, though. I huff to myself and increase my pace. If I can make it to my office, I’ll be safe from his wrath. There’s no way he would cause a scene at my office, would he? He didn’t seem to give two hoots about scolding me in front of Kate and Sam. Can I risk it? The man’s so volatile. Why is he behaving like this, anyway? I’ve only had sex with the guy, not married him.
I quicken my pace, making it through the office door, but no sooner have I got to my desk, I’m hauled from my feet on a squeal, and I’m on my way back out.
‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ I shout at him, but he ignores me, carrying on with his long, even strides out of my office. I brace my hands at the bottom of his back and look up to see Tom, Victoria and Sally, all gawping at me being manhandled into the street. Oh God, please let Patrick be out of the office. ‘Jesse, fucking hell! Put me down now!’
He lets me slide down his front – purposely slow so I feel every hard muscle of his delicious chest – stopping me before my feet hit the ground. He holds me around my waist so my lips are level with his, his blatant erection rubbing me in just the right spot. He’s mad and turned on?
A treacherous moan escapes my lips as he pushes himself against me, breathing his hot, minty breath on my lips. I’m supposed to be bloody mad here. Instead, I’m being held against my will – kind of – and wanting to strip my captor in front of all of my colleagues, who are all squashed at the office door, fighting for the best view.
‘Mouth. You stood me up.’ He presses his lips to mine before he pulls away, his sludgy eyes softening as he looks at me expectantly.
I can hardly tell him why I cancelled now. I imagine he’ll go up the wall. ‘I’m sorry.’ I sigh. Will he accept that? I need to get back into the office and sort my head out. No, I need to go home and sort my head out, preferably with a bottle of wine.
He shakes his head mildly, and then he attacks my mouth purposely, right in the middle of Bruton Street. My fingers thread through his hair as I surrender to his impossibly addictive mouth, without much thought at all. He’s unashamed and oblivious to the hustle and bustle of lunch time pedestrians passing and, quite probably, staring as he completely consumes me. He swallows me up every time. He thrusts his groin forward aggressively, coaxing a moan to escape my mouth. This is a look-what-you-missed kiss, and I’m beginning to damn Matt to Hell.
‘Don’t do it again.’ he orders, in a tone that dares me to challenge him. He releases me from his grip and my feet hit the ground, the loss of support causing me to stagger forward.
He grabs the top of my arm to steady me, causing a slight stab of pain to radiate through me, snapping me out of my spellbound state on a sharp inhale. He drops my arm and stands back from me, his soft eyes raging and focused on the scatter of bruises at the top of my arm, courtesy of Mr Baldy Jag. His jaw starts ticking, his chest puffing, as he stares at my arm.
All I can think about is how lucky Mr Baldy Jag is that these bruises weren’t present yesterday. ‘I’m fine,’ I cover my arm with my palm in the hope that concealing the offending area might snap him out of his fuming state. He looks positively homicidal. Is he mad because I have a few bruises? ‘I need to get back to work.’ My voice is small, nervous even.
He drags his stare from my arm, back to my eyes, looking at me like I’m the offending object. A flash of irritation passes over his handsome face as he reaches up to rub his temples with his fingertips. It’s an obvious sigh of stress.
He eventually shakes his head lightly and stalks off, without another word, leaving me standing on the pavement wondering what in the world just happened. I look down to the ground, my eyes darting about, like I might find the answer written in chalk on the slabs.
Is that it? Is it over? The look on his face said it is. I’m not sure how I feel about that. One second he’s thrusting his hips into me on a moan, the next he’s looking at me in pure irritation. What am I supposed to make of this? I really don’t know. I shake myself out of my reverie and head back into the office. The silence is awkward, everyone obviously pretending to look busy.
‘You okay?’ Tom asks, slowly passing my desk. I look up, seeing his usual nosey expression is dotted with concern.
‘I’m fine. Not a word to Patrick.’ It comes out harsher than I intended.
‘Of course, I’ll say no more.’ He holds his hands up in defense.
Fuck! All I need is Patrick to find out that I’m caught up with a client. I should have been stronger and resisted his advances. I’m really not very comfortable with how I feel right now. I think…I think it’s somewhere in the realms of…abandonment?
Chapter 16
I practically crawl through the front door in an exhausted heap. I find Kate in the kitchen, hanging out of the window having a cheeky fag.
‘You need to pack that in.’ I scorn her. She doesn’t smoke much, just a couple here and there, but it’s a bad habit, nevertheless.
She takes a last drag and throws it out of the window before hastily climbing down from the worktop. ‘It helps me think.’ She defends herself. Yes, she claims this whenever I catch her having a sneaky puff. Now, I’m supposed to ask what she’s thinking about, but I already know the answer to that question.
‘Where’s the wine?’ She grabs my bag from me, pulling it open, before looking at me in disgust. I’ve just committed a cardinal sin – I forgot the wine.
I shrug. I’ve had other things on my mind. ‘Sorry.’
‘I’ll go to the shop, you get changed. Fish and chips?’ She grabs her purse from the table as she shoves her feet in her flip flops.
‘Just chips.’ I make my way down the hall to my bedroom. I feel completely deflated.
I sit with Kate on the couch, picking at the chips on my plate. I have absolutely no appetite, and I’m only half watching the re-run of Friends. My mind is all over the place, and I’m so furious with myself for letting it be.
‘Come on then, spit it out.’ Kate demands.
I turn to face my fiery friend with a chip half way to my mouth. I was an idiot if I thought I could get away with mooding in peace. I give her a non-committal shrug, popping the chip in my mouth and chewing lazily. Talking about it will only emphasise the fact that I am actually mooding over it – “it” being a man.
‘You like him.’
Yes, I do. I don’t want to, but I do. ‘He’s bad news. You saw him today.’ I grumble.
She makes a dramatic display of rolling her eyes and throwing herself back on the sofa. ‘You stood him up for your ex-boyfriend,’ She puts her plate on the coffee table in front of the sofa. ‘Ava, what did you expect?’
I frown at her. ‘He didn’t know why I stood him up. As far as he’s concerned, I just stood him up.’
‘Well, he doesn’t like being stood up then, does he? She laughs. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m seething with you.’ She turns all serious.
What have I done? Oh, yes. She must be talking about my little Dan grenade. ‘Would you have preferred it if I hadn’t of told you?’ I ask.
‘You’ve not left me much time to leave town!’ she wails at me.
Oh, the drama! ‘You’re overreacting. You don’t have to see him.’
‘No, I don’t. And I won’t!’
‘That’s okay then, isn’t it?’ I go for subject change. ‘Sam?’ I raise my eyebrows.
‘Isn’t he yummy? Jesse came back to the bar – with a face like thunder, by the way – so I left them to it. He took my number.’
‘You’re a tart Kate Matthews!’
‘I know!’ she shrieks. ‘How were things left with the Lord?’ She looks at me carefully, weighing up my reaction to her question.
‘He was still mad, he stormed off.’ I shrug.
She smiles. ‘He’s pretty intense.’
I start laughing. ‘Pretty? I lose all cognitive thought when I’m around him. When he touches me, it’s like I hand over all control of my mind and body to him. It’s frightening.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yes, it’s pretty wow.’
She turns back to the television. ‘I like him,’ she says quietly, almost like she’s afraid to admit it, like it’s wrong to like him. ‘I’m just saying.’ She shrugs but doesn’t look at me. ‘He’s rich, steaming hot and obviously well into you. A man doesn’t behave like that when he’s just fucking about, Ava.’
Well, that may be so, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s cleared off and my phone hasn’t rang since. It’s probably a good thing.
‘Do you fancy a proper night out on Saturday?’ I ask. It’s a stupid question that I already know the answer to.
The look she fires me is mischievous. I grin back at her.
The next day, I breeze into the Royal Park hotel at twelve fifteen, all set for my appointment with Mikael Van Der Haus. I’m directed into a snug sitting area with plush sofas. Gilded frames swamp the walls and a carved fire place dominates the room. It’s typically regal. I’m offered tea which I decline in favour of water. It’s bloody hot, and my black pencil dress is clinging to me.
Twenty minutes later, Mr Van Der Haus enters looking impeccable. He’s really very handsome. He smiles brightly at me, revealing a perfect row of white teeth. What is it with me and older men at the moment? I hastily bat away my wayward thoughts.
‘Ava, please accept my apologies. I never like to keep a lady waiting.’ His mild Danish accent is only just detectable but really sexy.
Stop! I rise from my seat as he approaches, putting my hand out to him with a smile. He takes my hand, but shocks me when he leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. Okay, that’s slightly inappropriate, but I’ll go with it. Maybe it’s a Danish thing. Ha! I would do well to remember what happened that last time a male client kissed me on a first meeting.
‘Mr Van Der Haus, it’s not a problem. I’ve not long arrived myself.’ I reassure him.
‘Ava, this is our second project together. I know you dealt with my partner on Lusso, but I will be involved in The Life Building a lot more, so please, call me Mikael. I hate formality.’ He takes a seat in the chair opposite me, crossing his long legs. ‘So, I’m looking forward to going through ideas with you soon.’
Huh? Isn’t that why I’m here now? ‘Yes, I haven’t really had the opportunity to research the development yet. I was hoping you would give me a brief and a week to get some ideas rolling.’
‘Of course!’ he laughs. ‘I’m being very rude dragging you here at such short notice, but I’m flying back to Denmark on Friday. I have your email. I shall send you the specific requirements. You did such a good job at Lusso. It really does lighten the pressure when you work with proficient people.’ He smiles.
Isn’t he going to give me the specifics now? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? ‘We could have a quick chat now.’ I prompt.
He sits for a while, regarding me quietly, before leaning forward in his chair. ‘Ava, I hope you don’t think I’m being audacious, you see… well, how can I put it?’ He drums his fingers on his chin. I’m a little worried. ‘I’m afraid I’ve brought you here under false pretenses.’ He laughs nervously, shifting in his chair.
‘Oh, how so?’ I ask baffled. And then it hits me. Oh, no! Oh, no, no, no! I lean back in my chair, instantly tensing from top to toe, and mentally beg the Lord Almighty to talk some sense into him before he says what I think he’s going to say.
‘I would like to ask you to join me for dinner.’ He looks at me expectantly, and I’m sure my face must resemble that of complete horror. I’m burning up. ‘Tomorrow evening, if it’s convenient with you, of course.’ he adds.
Shit! What do I say? If I say no, he might withdraw his business from Rococo Union, and Patrick will go spare. What is it with men suddenly falling at my feet? Older men in particular? He’s way past Jesse in terms of age. At least, I think he is. He’s very good looking, but good God, he’s got to be twenty years older than me. I inwardly laugh. At least he hasn’t got me locked in a suite upstairs. How do I play this?
‘Mr Van Der Haus…’
‘Mikael, please.’ he interrupts me with a smile.
‘Mikael, I’m not sure mixing business with pleasure is a good idea. It’s kind of a rule for me. I’m very flattered.’ I laugh at my own audacity. Since when has that been an issue of late? And why did I say pleasure? I’ve assumed, and suggested, that it would be pleasurable to have dinner with him. It might not be, or it very well could be. Oh God! I mentally throw myself into the lovely fireplace.
‘Oh, that is a shame, Ava.’ he sighs.
‘Yes, it is.’ I agree, re-launching myself back into the hearth when he looks up in surprise.
He leans forward. ‘I admire your professionalism.’
‘Thank you.’ I’m bloody blushing again.
‘I hope this won’t affect our business relationship, Ava. I very much look forward to working with you.’
‘I’m looking forward to working with you too, Mikael.’
He lifts himself from the couch, approaching me with his hand stretched out. Thank God! I take it, letting him gently shake it. Did he really just drag me here to ask me to dinner? He could have called me.
‘I shall endeavor to email you at my earliest opportunity. Once I return from Denmark, I would like to show you around the building. Until then, you can draft some schemes. I’ve had the drawings sent to your office, and I’ll email you the specifics.’
‘Thank you, Mikael. Enjoy your trip.’
‘Goodbye, Ava.’ His long legs take him out of the snug.
Well, that was uncomfortable. I sit and finish my water while deliberating over my current emotional turmoil. If Jesse was as gracious as Mikael, then I wouldn’t be feeling so shitty right now. Never mixing business and pleasure has never been a rule because I’ve never had to make one. In the space of two weeks, I’ve had two wealthy and very handsome clients pursue me. One I’ve declined, the other I‘ve caved in on. And, as a result, I’m all over the place. Not mixing business and pleasure is now a firm rule and one I intend to stick to. Not that I need to reinforce it. Mikael took my decline rather graciously and Jesse hasn’t called since abandoning me. Abandoning?
By two thirty, I’m back in the office. I don’t mention to Patrick the strangeness of my meeting with Mikael Van Der Haus, mainly because I’m concerned that, in the name of business, he’ll demand I go to dinner with him. Patrick will assume it would be a business dinner, but Mikael made it perfectly clear that there would be no business involved. Instead, I just mention emails, drawings and his intention to show me the building upon his return from Denmark. This seems to keep him happy.
I get my phone from my bag, noting no missed calls. I ignore the pang of disappointment and start making a few notes on Scandinavian design. I know I’ll be basing my design around clean, white, easy living, but I’m comforted by the fact that it will be tranquil and warm, not sparse and cold.
My phone rings and I grab it, way too hastily. It’s Kate.
‘Hi.’ I greet in an over the top, chirpy voice. I don’t know why I bother. She sees straight through it.
‘Faking detachment, are we?’ she asks.
‘Yes.’
‘I thought so. Have you not heard from him?’
‘No.’
‘Liking monosyllables today, huh?’
‘Yes.’
She sighs heavily down the phone. ‘Whatever. Have you asked Victoria and Gayboy if they’re up for Saturday night?’
‘No. I will, though. I’ve just got back from a very strange meeting.’ I open my top drawer to grab a paperclip, noticing the calla lily squished down the side of my stapler.
‘Strange how?’ She’s intrigued.
‘I went to meet the developer of Lusso, well, one of them. He asked me to dinner. It was really uncomfortable.’ I grab the lily and chuck it in the bin quickly.
She laughs down the phone at me. ‘How old is this one?’
I bristle at her insinuation. He’s much older than Jesse. How much older is unknown, but he’s definitely older. I’ll probably never know now, though. ‘Mid-forties I guess, but extremely handsome, in a Scandinavian kinda way.’ I shrug to myself while guiding my mouse aimlessly around the screen. He’s nowhere near Jesse’s league, but he’s handsome, nonetheless.
‘You’re like a mature man magnet at the moment. Are you going?’
‘No!’ I screech. ‘Why would I?’
‘Why not?’ I can’t see her, but I know she has a questioning eyebrow arched.
‘No, I can’t, because I have a new rule…no mixing business with pleasure.’
‘MOVE!’ she screams, making me jump at my desk. ‘Sorry, some prat just cut me up. No mixing business with pleasure, ah?’
‘Yes. Are you driving and talking on your mobile, Miss Matthews?’ I challenge her. I know Margo doesn’t have a hands free kit.
‘Yeah, I’d better beat feet. See you at home. And don’t forget to tell Gay boy and Victoria the plans for Saturday.’
‘What are the plans?’ I blurt before she hangs up.
‘Get drunk, Baroque, eight o’clock.’
Get drunk. Yes, that’s a very good plan.
I leave the office at six with Tom and Victoria. ‘Saturday night, Guys?’
Tom stops abruptly, dramatically putting his palms out with a shocked expression on his smooth, baby face.
‘Oh my God, yes! I brought the most amazing coral shirt at lunch time. It’s divine!’
Victoria giggles, slapping his arse to push him onwards. ‘Where are we going?’ she asks.
‘Baroque at eight.’ I answer. ‘We’ll see where the night takes us.’
‘I’m in!’ Victoria sings at me. ‘But no gay joints, Tom. It’s my turn to pull.’ she grumbles
Tom frowns. ‘What about me?’
‘You’ve had your feed. It’s my turn,’ she spits, ‘Besides, what about the scientist?’
‘You know, science is actually very boring.’ he grumbles.
We say our goodbyes at Green Park Station. I take Jubilee to Central, while Victoria and Tom hop on Piccadilly.