Her Not-So-Secret Diary(11)

Yep, sexual frustration. Right again. And she was hardly going to tell  Mr Sanderson any of that. Nor was she about to tell him she'd never had a  dream quite like it. 'I'm at a complete loss,' she said tightly.

'Erotic dream or not, that's some attraction we've got going here. You  feel it too. Come on, Sophie, admit it. I'm not letting you out of this  lift until you do.'

'Okay. I feel it. It was … good. But it was just a momentary indulgence.'

'Momentary?' When she didn't answer, he said, 'I want to see you again.  Away from the office. And believe me, it won't be momentary.'

Her heart battered against her ribcage and the hot flush already  invading her body intensified. Oh, the way he said that, the desire in  his eyes-for her. But she had to think of practicalities. Nothing was  going to persuade her from the goals she'd set for herself. Not even  Jared Sanderson. Especially Jared Sanderson because she had a feeling he  could change those goalposts to suit himself. 'I'm going overseas, I  don't want to start something-'

'Honey, it's already started.'

'That doesn't-'

Her phone's cheerful jangle cut her off. Salvation. She pulled the  offending item from her bag and answered, turning away from Jared as she  did so.

'Sophie, it's Pam. I'm glad I caught you. Can you cover for me for a few more days?'

'Sure.' Uh-oh. Definitely unsure, but she couldn't tell Pam that right  now. She'd need to find a replacement herself. 'You're still not well?  Have you seen a doctor?'

'You'll never guess, I've got chicken pox.'

'No way.'

'Discovered the spots a few hours ago, the doctor confirmed it.'

'You poor thing. I'll call in on my way home. Is there anything I can get you?'

'Thanks, but there's no need. I'm going to switch off my phone and  sleep. Oh, and I tried phoning Jared before I called you but his  mobile's not answering.'

Of course it wasn't. Pam sounded perplexed about that, as if it was  completely out of character. And it probably was if he was as dedicated  to his work as Pam said.

'Don't worry, I'll let him know.' She rubbed at her temple. 'I'll talk  to you tomorrow. Ring me if you need anything, no matter what time. Day  or night.'

Sophie disconnected but remained facing the back of the lift. She didn't  want the sight of Jared distracting her any more than she wanted to be  the one who'd distracted him. The memory of the past few minutes burned  in her blood. Her lips still tingled with his taste. Her entire body  felt as if it were smouldering. How could she possibly cover for Pam  now? But that extra income would have come in so handy.

Hearing the tightness in her voice as she disconnected, Jared touched  Sophie's shoulder. 'What's wrong? Anything I can do?' None of his  business, but he had to ask. He knew what it was like to deal with  family crises.

'That was Pam.' Slipping the phone in her bag, she turned, her expression taut, shoulders rigid.

'And … ?' he prompted when she just stared at him as if he'd turned into some kind of monster.

'She's got chicken pox.'                       
       
           



       

'Chicken pox? Do adults even catch chicken pox?'

'They can. Sometimes.'

Before he'd finished saying, 'That's unfortunate,' his mind was already  leaping ahead. Sophie. At his beck and call for a week … but not in his  bed as he'd anticipated. He didn't fool around with his staff.

'Pam tried to contact you just now,' she continued in a voice devoid of  that husky passion he'd heard earlier. 'I told her I'd let you know.'  She hesitated before saying, 'Under the circumstances I'll arrange for  someone to cover for her.'

'No. I want you.' His body, already pumped, hardened further. He fought  it down. Hang on a damn minute. They were talking business hours here.  'I need a PA and you need the work.' When she didn't reply he pressed  on. 'Couldn't you use the extra spending money?'

'Yes, but-'

'So I'll see you here bright and early in the morning. Sophie, you're a  professional, you can do it. Think of London. That side trip to Paris.'

'I wasn't planning a side trip to Paris.'

'Everyone plans a side trip to Paris.'

'Not me.' She chewed her lip a moment. 'I want to see Rome. And maybe  Florence.' Stepping sideways, she stabbed the elevator button … and this  time he let her.

The quiet click of gears was the only sound in the rapidly descending  lift but the residual crackle of sexual energy sparking off the walls  was deafening.

'Okay … ' she murmured finally. 'We'll give it a try.'

He watched her refusing to look at him. It wouldn't work if they didn't  talk about it. 'You don't want to resolve this unfinished business  first?'

'There's nothing to resolve,' she said, tight-lipped. 'As for  unfinished, as of now, what just happened here didn't happen. And I'd  like my hair clasp back, please.'

He withdrew the tortoiseshell clasp from his pocket, handed it to her. 'Your idea's not going to work, you know.'

She shot him a look while she twisted her hair into a rope, jammed it  haphazardly into the clasp. 'It will. I'm your employee. Everything  changes. We've acknowledged … the whatever it is. Now we can ignore it  and-'

'It'll go away?'

'Exactly.'

They exited the lift. The front doors opened and they stepped out into a  muggy evening swamped with humidity and the brzzz of night insects.

'You really think so?'

'I know so.'

'I like your optimism.'

She turned left and headed for her car, her heels clicking a brisk  rhythm on the pavement. 'What's more, I have every confidence in your  ability to do the same.' She keyed the remote and a dark-coloured  hatch's lights winked. 'We're both professionals.'

Professional. With the star-spattered sky stretched over a calm ocean  and a woman he'd just been enjoying getting up close and personal with  beside him, professional was as far from Jared's mind as that distant  Pacific horizon.

She came to an abrupt stop beside her car, yanked open the door and  tossed her bag across the seat all in rapid succession. 'Goodnight.'

Strands of hair she hadn't managed to contain in her clasp moved in the  breeze. She still had that just kissed look. Plump lips, overbright  eyes, breathing a little too fast.

The salty tropical evening was made for loving and for once he didn't  want professional. If she'd been a date, he'd have been working that top  buttonhole in her blouse right now. Hell no, he'd have had her naked  already and moaning for more-after all, he knew what she liked, didn't  he?

He fisted his hands in his pockets. Cool it. 'Okay. We'll try it your  way.' He schooled his voice to neutral. 'So goodnight, Sophie, and  thanks for working back, I appreciate it. Is that friendly-formal enough  for you?'

She nodded once. It amused him to note that she actually looked  disappointed he hadn't pushed his luck and kissed her again. Not that  she'd want him to know he'd noticed. Her slim dark brows pulled down as  she climbed into the car. 'You're welcome. Goodnight.'

'See you in the morning.' He shut her car door and watched till she  pulled out of the car park. He let her go because she was still stinging  with the knowledge that he'd read her dream. But he didn't care how  determined she was to deny their attraction, tomorrow after hours they  were going to talk about it. And then he'd inform her that his business  plans for Noosa next week were already set and they included his PA.                       
       
           



       



Sophie checked the rear-vision mirror to ensure Jared wasn't following  her, then pulled over to the side of the road. She switched off the  ignition, let her head fall back on the seat and closed her eyes. Oh.  My. God.

She blew out a shuddering breath. She'd managed to keep it together, but  now that she could fall apart in private her whole body trembled. Darts  of what felt like electric shocks tingled through her limbs and over  her skin.

He'd made love to her hands exactly the way she'd told him to in her  dream. The only difference with tonight's scenario was that they hadn't  used her Secret Sensation moisturiser or done it naked and horizontal on  some fluffy mat that didn't exist-at least it didn't in her house.

And he'd know that too.

She slammed her palms over and over against her temples. He'd read her  diary entry. He'd known, damn him, and he'd said nothing all day. He'd  probably watched her when she wasn't looking and imagined all the things  she'd written …  She could quite easily kill him and with no conscience  at all. In fact, when she pulled herself together again she still might.

He kissed like a dream.

And, oh, that was so-o-o not funny. She sighed, remembering the luscious  feel of his lips on hers, how she'd lost all willpower, wound her arms  around his neck and practically sucked his face off.

He'd let her make a complete fool of herself. No, she'd done that on her  own by sending the wrong email. She should have come clean with him  first thing this morning and got it out of the way. Instead of hoping he  hadn't read it. Of course he'd have read it. What normal red-blooded  guy in his sexual prime would stop at the first couple of lines?