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Of their own accord, her eyes took a lingering tour of his body. He was wearing a dark charcoal casual s.h.i.+rt with a stylized floral pattern printed on it in dark brown and black. His long legs were clothed in dark jeans, and his hair was more tousled, less tidy than his workday look. He was stunning. Dangerous. s.e.x on legs.
She tore her eyes away from him. She had to go. That much was obvious. She couldn't possibly live this down. She had no idea what the etiquette was for the first time you met your one-night stand after the event. Polite chitchat? Ignore each other? Or were they supposed to greet each other like old friends?
Much easier to go. Absolutely.
She turned back toward the foyer, ready to just hightail it out of there.
"Anna, where are you going?" Leah asked from behind her.
Anna blinked, astonished that for a few seconds there she had actually forgotten her friends.
"Um..." she said, her mind a complete blank as far as handy excuses went.
Jules waylaid a pa.s.sing waiter and held out a champagne flute to her.
"There you go," Jules said.
Anna stared wide-eyed at the drink, then her gaze flickered past her friends to where Marc stood talking to a younger man and woman at the other end of the exhibition s.p.a.ce. He was still watching her. Her heart picked up its pace, banging against her ribs.
"Um..." she said again, feeling like a bunny frozen in the car headlights.
Jules and Leah didn't seem to notice; Jules just slid the cool gla.s.s into her hand, then turned to Leah. "Good turnout. Maxine must be rapt," she commented, sipping from her own champagne flute.
"This all looks great. I've been meaning to buy some art. I don't think my old Pica.s.so prints cut it anymore," Leah said.
The two of them moved closer to the nearest painting in order to study it more closely, and somehow, Anna found herself following them.
So, she wasn't going. What was she doing, exactly? She wasn't sure. She still felt sh.e.l.l-shocked from that first moment of eye contact with Marc. How could a glance across a room affect a person so much? Confused, overwhelmed, she took a hearty slug from her champagne gla.s.s.
I can handle this, she told herself firmly as the alcohol burned its way down her throat and warmed her belly. As long as I don't have to look him in the eye and talk to him, I'll be fine.
MARC TRIED TO CONCENTRATE on the conversation he was supposed to be having, but it was impossible now that he knew she was here.
Anna Jackson.
A week of pounding the pool, punis.h.i.+ng runs and working late had finally pushed her image from his mind. For the most part. There had been that one hot flashback to the parking lot as he was showering this evening. Perhaps it was the steam, or the hot water, or the slick slipperiness of the soap. Whatever, one minute he was enjoying the water ma.s.saging the tense muscles across his shoulders, the next he was thinking about Anna, how tight and hot she'd been, how she'd moaned in his ear as he plunged inside her, the way she'd held his head to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.
Now she was standing across the room, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was wearing a dark red dress that hugged her curves, and high, strappy sandals that made the most of her long legs. Even at this distance he could see the smooth, creamy skin of her cleavage. He knew what her b.r.e.a.s.t.s looked like now, knew that her nipples were a pale coral pink to match her fair complexion, and that they puckered readily to his touch. He knew that if he ran his hands down her hips he would find the perfect curve of her b.u.t.t, and he knew just how soft and yielding she would be if he pressed all his hardness up against her.
"...if that's okay with you, Mr. Lewis?"
Marc gave himself a mental slap as he registered that Jacob had been talking to him, suggesting they take some time now to get their business out of the way. He smiled, forced his gaze away from Anna.
"Of course," he said smoothly. A spurt of self-directed annoyance cleared a path through the fog of l.u.s.t he'd sunk into. He was here to finalize the last stages of a deal that had taken more than a month to set up. He couldn't afford to lose focus like this.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Maxine, Jacob's girlfriend, said. "An old friend has just arrived, anyway."
Despite his determination to ignore Anna, Marc couldn't help noting that Maxine made a beeline for her and her friends. Did Anna know her? Was that why Anna was here?
Not that it mattered. It didn't mean anything at all. It was just that he hadn't expected to see her. That was the only reason he was feeling so unsettled. After all, what had happened between them was hardly run-of-the-mill. There was bound to be some awkwardness attached to seeing each other again.
But the tightness in his trousers belied all rational argument. He didn't feel awkward about seeing Anna again. He was aroused. Turned on beyond all belief. And hungry for more of what he'd tasted a week ago.
He swallowed the last mouthful of his champagne and handed his empty flute to a pa.s.sing waiter. Pus.h.i.+ng his fascination with Anna to one side, he focused very deliberately on the man standing in front of him. Business. Tonight was about business.
"Have you thought any more about my offer?" he asked bluntly.
Jacob laughed nervously. "As if I've done anything except think about it."
"And?"
"I have a few questions. If that's okay?"
Marc smiled, knowing then and there that he would get what he wanted this evening.
"Fire away," he encouraged.
Jacob launched into a series of questions, all of which ranged around the one concern-he wanted to sell his small hothouse software development business to Lewis Technologies, but he was worried about losing his innovative edge within the bigger corporate structure.
"I understand your concerns," Marc responded. "If you come onboard, you and your team will run as a separate arm of the research and development department. You'll report directly to me, and you'll have the ability to be as flexible, responsive and innovative as you are now-with the resources of a major player at your back. It's a win-win, Jacob. You'll get royalties on any software you author, and we have a generous superannuation and bonus scheme. I believe in rewarding effort."
Jacob's cheeks were flushed, his eyes s.h.i.+ning as he began to imagine his new role. Marc's instincts told him he was almost home. Then he glanced up and his eye was caught by the red flare that was Anna's dress.
She was talking to a waiter, accepting another gla.s.s of champagne. Marc narrowed his eyes as he watched the other man glance down at Anna's body, his thoughts more than obvious. The waiter said something, and Anna threw back her head and laughed. The sound was pure and honest, and Marc found himself arrested by the sheer abandonment of it.
"...is the one who's been the most resistant, but I'd hate to lose him. I think he'd be a real a.s.set to your business," Jacob said.
Marc snapped his attention back to the here and now, realizing that once again he'd been distracted from the matter at hand. Fortunately, he was familiar enough with Jacob's business setup to guess what-or, more correctly, who-he was talking about.
"I agree that Benji is an a.s.set," he said crisply. He had to get Anna out of his mind. "What's his sticking point?"
Jacob looked uncomfortable. "This is going to sound pretty lame to someone like you...but Benji thinks that us shacking up with Lewis Technologies is selling out. He figures you'll be expecting us to wear suits and do the whole nine-to-five thing. He doesn't work like that."
"Tell Benji to relax. As long as the work gets done, I don't care when or how. Bring him in for a tour of the R & D suite next week. I think he'll see enough torn denim and bad personal hygiene to make him feel at home."
Jacob allowed the grin he'd been suppressing for the last few minutes to break free at last.
"In that case, Mr. Lewis, you've got a deal!" he said enthusiastically.
Jacob offered his hand, and this time his handshake was firm and certain.
"Welcome onboard. And it's Marc."
Jacob pumped his hand even more enthusiastically. "Marc, then. Cool."
As soon as his concentration slipped, Marc's eyes found their way back to Anna. She was standing with her hand on one hip, head c.o.c.ked to one side as she contemplated one of Maxine's floor-to-ceiling paintings. Maxine was standing beside her, gesticulating broadly as she talked. The line of Anna's neck was elegant and alluring, the curve of her hip even more so. She looked stylish and sophisticated-but he knew just how hot she could be.
"I can introduce you, if you like," Jacob said beside him.
"Sorry?"
Jacob gestured toward Anna. "Maxine obviously knows her."
Marc smiled coolly, unhappy that his fascination was so obvious. "Thanks, but I'm fine," he said.
Jacob nodded, embarra.s.sed now. "Sorry. It's just, the way you were looking at her..."
"I know her," Marc explained. "An old acquaintance."
"Oh. Right."
Across the room, Anna laughed again. He forced himself to stay focused on Jacob.
Business. Tonight is about business, he reminded himself.
If only his body would listen, he'd have half a chance of walking away from this evening with his pride and self-respect intact.
ANNA FELT AS THOUGH her cheeks were going to crack in half if she smiled one more time. She just wanted to get the h.e.l.l out of there. No matter what she did, where she looked, or who she was talking to, every sense, every fiber of her being was focused on the man standing at the other end of the room. And it was driving her crazy.
Why hadn't she gone home the second she saw him standing there? It was the only sane, self-preserving thing to have done. Yet here she was, allowing Jules's artist friend, Maxine, to drag her farther up the gallery so she could show her another painting. She glanced toward Leah and Jules, wondering if she could convince them to bail early. They were chatting to one of the waiters, a tall blond guy with green eyes. She got the definite sense that suggesting they go elsewhere would not be welcomed.
"This was the first sale of the evening," Maxine chattered, her cheeks rosy from excitement and champagne. "My boyfriend's new boss bought it," she confided happily. "He said he's going to put it in the foyer of his building. Can you believe that?"
"That's great. I hope it's a nice big building, so lots of people will get to see it every day," Anna said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marc flash a smile at the man Maxine had been talking to when she first arrived. She almost blinked and stared, the smile transformed his face so much. He went from brooding and s.e.xy and dangerous to approachable and fun and dangerous.
"It's huge. Jacob's going to be so much better off working for a big company instead of having to worry about making ends meet all the time," Maxine said. "He's so clever-he deserves to be recognized."
The softness in the other woman's voice caught and held Anna's attention-no small feat given her growing obsession with the man standing across the room.
"Sounds like you guys get along pretty well," she observed.
"Jacob's the best," Maxine said, her eyes misting over. Then she glanced over Anna's shoulder. "You want to meet him?"
"Um...sure," Anna said.
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Maxine had grabbed her by the hand and was towing her across the room. Way across the room. Toward Marc Lewis's end, in fact. Or, more specifically, straight to Marc Lewis!
Before Anna could dig her heels in or object or even think of escaping, she was being pulled forward and introduced to Maxine's boyfriend. In his early twenties, Jacob was red-haired and freckled, with bright blue eyes that radiated intelligence and humor. Anna could barely comprehend a word that was coming out of his mouth, however, because Marc was standing a mere arm's length away and all of the blood in her body was rus.h.i.+ng south. G.o.d help her. She kept her eyes fixed on Jacob with a conscious act of will, smiling and shaking his hand and hoping she looked remotely sane.
"And this is Marc Lewis," Maxine said brightly. "Marc, this is Anna Jackson."
Reluctantly she dragged her eyes up to meet his. His gaze was smoky, unreadable.
"Anna. How are you?" he asked.
"Good. Thanks. Marc," she managed to stutter.
Jacob handed her a fresh gla.s.s of champagne, and she accepted it automatically. It wasn't as though she needed alcohol. She already felt both sick and dizzy and her heart was beating a frantic tattoo against her rib cage.
"Oh-you two know each other already?" Maxine asked, curiosity sending her gaze zinging back and forth between them.
Why couldn't the ground open up and swallow her? Anna was painfully aware of everything about him, from the woody scent of his aftershave to the way the hair curled over his ears, and the fact that he had a faint after-five stubble darkening his jaw. He stood squarely, looking supremely relaxed, easily dominating their small circle with his presence, and she shot him a desperate look before answering Maxine's question.
"Marc used to be one of my clients," she said, taking a bracing mouthful of her champagne.
"Used to be? Have I been blackballed, Anna?" Marc asked.
She was swallowing-not a good time to gasp with surprise. She choked, pressing a hand to her chest and coughing violently.
Someone took the gla.s.s of champagne from her hand as she endeavored not to lose a lung.
"Are you okay?" Maxine asked.
"I'm...I'm fine," Anna managed to say, finally clearing her throat.
Her cheeks were radiant with embarra.s.sment, and she glared balefully at Marc's back as he turned to grab a gla.s.s of mineral water from a pa.s.sing waiter. It was all his fault for making that crack. And for being so s.e.xy. And for being here in the first place.
"Here."
He slid the water into her hand, and she took a couple of tentative sips.
"That's much better, thank you," she mumbled, not meeting anyone's eye. Could she have made it any more obvious that something had gone on between the two of them? She didn't think so, short of hiring a billboard or having it written in the sky.
"Back to normal?" Marc asked. As if in slow motion, she watched as he lifted a hand and placed it on her upper arm-an inconsequential, polite gesture between acquaintances.
But the instant his hand was on her, about a million neurons fired off simultaneously throughout her body. Her stomach muscles clenched. Her knees went weak. Her heart started to race. And her nipples nudged against the silk of her bra, remembering his touch and wanting more. Between her legs, her s.e.x throbbed with need.
She stared down at his hand where it rested on her arm. His olive skin looked impossibly tan against her paler complexion, his fingers long and strong.
Completely at sea, she lifted her gaze to his. His dark eyes burned into her, and she licked her lips nervously. His gaze dropped to follow the movement, then he locked eyes with her again. There was no mistaking the desire in him. His pupils were dilated, and the raw hunger in him sent a thrill through her. She squeezed her thighs together, all too aware that wet heat was already pooling there-all from just a simple touch and a not-so-simple look.
Suddenly everything in the world dropped away. It didn't matter that five seconds ago she had been practically writhing with self-consciousness, wis.h.i.+ng she was anywhere but here. Or that she'd spent the past week trying to justify her reckless, wild response to him. Or even that she was still deeply ambivalent about the whole Marc Lewis phenomenon. There was nothing in the universe except the need to be with him again. Her body knew him. And her body wanted him. Bad.
As if he could read her thoughts, Marc's fingers tightened on her arm. A delicious surge of heat raced along her veins. She had to bite back a moan of desire.
She had to be alone with him. Now.
Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears as she put her water gla.s.s down carefully on a nearby table.
"It was nice meeting you, Jacob. If you'll excuse me, I might just go powder my nose," she heard herself say.
Then she was putting one foot in front of the other, walking toward the archway that led into the administration part of the building. She didn't need to look to see if Marc would follow her. He would come. Every instinct in her told her he would come.
The air in the corridor was cool on her heated skin, and she stepped toward the first closed door on her left. The handle turned beneath her hand, and she stepped into a darkened office. Leaving the door open, she walked across the carpeted floor to survey the wide leather-topped desk. Perfect.
She sensed rather than heard him enter the room behind her. She was shaking with need by now, and the sound of the privacy lock being engaged made her catch her breath. Soon, soon she would have him inside her again....
A faint click, and a pool of light illuminated the leather top of the desk as he turned on the lamp.