At Her Boss's Bidding Page 7

  ‘My client never bluffs,’ Charlotte said smugly. ‘He doesn’t have to. When he wants something he simply makes sure he’s the top bidder. Money overcomes all obstacles.’

  ‘Is that so? Your client might not ever bluff, but if he keeps making business decisions that way he might end up with a house of cards rather than a solidly based portfolio. One day, it’ll come crashing down around him.’

  ‘Well, that’s no concern of mine,’ Charlotte said with an indifferent shrug of her slender shoulders. ‘He’s just a client. As long as I get my commission on a sale, I don’t care what happens afterwards.’

  ‘Spoken like a real-estate agent,’ Justin said with a dry laugh.

  She didn’t bat an eyelid at the barb. ‘Property’s a tough business.’

  ‘But you’re well up to it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not that hard,’ she returned. ‘Not once you get to know me.’ And she flashed him an almost coquettish smile.

  Rachel could not believe it. Charlotte was making a play for Justin right in front of her and Eric’s eyes!

  But what’s new? she realised bitterly. That was what she’d done with Eric when he’d been engaged to her.

  A quiet fury began to simmer within Rachel. Charlotte had seduced Eric away from her, but no way was Rachel going to let Charlotte get her claws into Justin! He might only be her boss but he was far too nice a man for the likes of that alley cat to play with.

  ‘I hate to interrupt this conversation,’ she piped up with a saccharine smile, ‘but we really must be getting along, Justin. The dinner starts at eight and you promised to meet Mr Wong at the main bar at seven-fifteen. And it’s way past that now.’

  ‘You’re right. See what I mean? What would I do without her? No doubt we’ll run into each other again during the dinner. Maybe we can even sit at the same table. Mind us a spot if you can. Meanwhile, I must away and meet my—er—meet Mr Wong. And no, don’t ask me who he is, sweetheart,’ he threw at Charlotte, then pressed his index finger to his lips. ‘Client confidentiality, remember.’

  ‘Who the hell is Mr Wong?’ he whispered to Rachel after a sour-faced Eric grabbed Charlotte’s arm and started steering her forcibly past Reception in the direction of the main conference room, the venue for the dinner.

  ‘No idea,’ Rachel confessed. ‘I made him up.’

  ‘But why? The idea is to stay in Eric and Charlotte’s company if we’re to achieve our aim for the night.’ And nodded towards the departing couple’s backs.

  ‘She was flirting with you,’ Rachel pointed out indignantly.

  ‘So? That was good, wasn’t it? It’ll make Eric the Mongrel jealous and insecure.’

  ‘I was afraid you might be liking it.’

  ‘I was. But not the way you’re thinking. I wouldn’t touch that cold-blooded bitch in a million years. God, Rachel, you don’t know me very well if you’d think that.’

  ‘But I don’t know you very well, do I? You have an unexpectedly wicked streak in you, Justin McCarthy. Yet before tonight I thought you were…um—er—er…’ She struggled to find a word other than ‘nice’.

  ‘Staid?’ he suggested drily. ‘Boring?’

  ‘No! Never boring. Maybe a little staid. No, you’re not really staid, either. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. I guess I just didn’t think you’d ever conceive of something so devious as to make them think we’re lovers even whilst you’re claiming we aren’t. That was incredibly conniving of you, and manipulative.’

  ‘If you can’t beat ’em, then join ’em, Rachel. People like Eric and Charlotte are devious, and conniving, and manipulative. They’re also shallow and selfish and truly wicked. They don’t care who they hurt or betray. All they care about is themselves and what suits them at the time. If you think I’m the first man Charlotte has flirted with, then think again. She hasn’t been faithful to your Eric, nor he with her. That’s the way they both are.’

  ‘Maybe, but not everyone is like that, Justin,’ she pointed out, unwilling to embrace the self-destructive philosophy of total cynicism. Isabel had been like that with men for ages, till she met Rafe. And, really, Rachel hadn’t admired that about her one bit. She was a much nicer person now that she was living her life with love and hope in her heart.

  ‘True,’ Justin said, his gaze softening momentarily on her. ‘Some people are decent and kind. But the two people we were unfortunate enough to fall in love with weren’t. Eric treated you abominably, Rachel. And he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it!’

  Rachel stared up into her boss’s bitter blue eyes and realised he wasn’t only talking about Eric. He was talking—and thinking—about his wife. Justin was deeply wounded.

  Rachel wanted to ask him about his wife and what she’d done to him, but knew it was not the right time, or the right place. For one thing, his wounds were still way too raw. Maybe there would never be a right time or a right place. Maybe he’d loved her far too much, and would never get over her.

  At least she had the comfort of knowing she no longer loved Eric. Seeing him again tonight had at least proved that to her once and for all. He might be successful and superficially handsome, but ‘handsome is as handsome does’, she’d discovered first-hand this evening. He was welcome to the likes of Charlotte. They were made for each other, in her opinion.

  ‘Promise me you won’t flirt with Charlotte when we finally get to that dinner?’ she asked.

  Justin laughed. ‘I promise. But you shouldn’t worry about me, you know, Rachel. I can take care of myself where female vampires are concerned. How are you doing, meeting up with lover-boy again? Does he still turn you on with those smooth, golden looks of his?’

  ‘God, no.’ She half laughed, half shuddered. ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘I suspect he still has the hots for you.’

  She blushed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

  Justin frowned. ‘You think it’s ridiculous for a man to have the hots for you, especially the way you look tonight?’

  ‘Well, no… I mean…yes… I mean… Look, I still can’t compare with Charlotte. She’s one seriously sexy lady.’

  ‘She’s about as sexy to me as a dead skunk.’

  Rachel was startled. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. But to ease your concern I will consign all of my flirting for the rest of the evening to yours truly. Make Eric the Mongrel’s teeth gnash some more.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Mmm. Twenty to eight. Look, let’s go to that main bar you mentioned, where I’m supposed to be meeting the mysterious Mr Wong. We can fill in the time till eight with a couple of pre-dinner drinks.’

  Rachel bit her bottom lip. ‘Oh, I—er—made that up about the main bar as well. I have no idea if there is such a place.’

  Justin grinned. ‘And you said I had an unexpectedly wicked streak in me. I think you’re the one who has the unexpectedly wicked streak, Ms Witherspoon. Come on, we’ll go ask at Reception where the bars are located. They have to have at least one or two in a place this size.’

  They had three, one connected with the a` la carte restaurant on the mezzanine level, one on the first floor in the disco-till-you-drop room and a third up on the top floor, which had a more sedate dance floor and a view to die for, or so the clerk behind the desk said. It also wasn’t open to the public, just the clientele of Sunshine Gardens and their guests.

  Ten minutes later they were sitting at a table on an open-air terrace, sipping Margaritas by moonlight and drinking in that view to die for, which was spectacular, even at night. Most of the buildings along the foreshore were lit up, outlining the curved sweep of the coastline for as far as the eye could see. The night air was still and balmy, with Rachel’s bare arms and shoulders not proving a problem.

  ‘This is so lovely,’ she said with a wistful sigh. ‘But we won’t have time for a second drink. Not if you want us to make that dinner on time.’

  Actually, she hated the thought of going down to that dinner now. As much as she’d enjoyed her moment of vengeance in the lift, she didn
’t want to keep pretending she and Justin were lovers, or to have Justin acting like some sleazebag boss who couldn’t keep his hands off her. She knew he meant well, but in a way it was demeaning for him to act out of character like that.

  ‘What if I said we’d skip the presentation dinner entirely, and order some food to have right here?’ he startled her by suggesting. ‘They do serve light meals. They’re listed on the other side of the drinks menu.’

  ‘But don’t you have to go to the dinner?’

  ‘It’s not strictly essential. They’re making a video of the promotional presentation after the dinner for potential buyers who couldn’t make it tonight. I’ll buy a copy in the morning and view it when I get home tomorrow night, in case there’s anything remotely informative in it, which is doubtful.’

  ‘But what about Eric and Charlotte?’

  ‘What about them? You said you didn’t give a toss about Eric any more.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Well, then we’ve done what we set out to do,’ he said. ‘Made Eric the Mongrel see you’ve survived without him. Also made him see he gave up a truly fine and, might I say, very attractive lady for a total bitch like Charlotte. Frankly, it could prove a more successful and devious strategy not showing up to the dinner at all. Eric will stew over the thought that I’ve whisked you back up to our room for a long night of hot sex, and darling Charlotte will worry her material little heart out that my mysterious Mr Wong might be some mega-rich businessman from Singapore who’ll bid more for Sunshine Gardens than the ego-maniacal fool she’s representing. Your revenge is already complete, Rachel. Why risk spoiling it?’

  ‘But…’

  ‘You have a penchant for buts, Rachel. There are no buts in this case, not even business buts. I guarantee I won’t get into trouble over not going to that dinner. I made my own private enquiries around town today and I won’t be recommending that AWI buy this place, anyway. Reliable sources tell me the occupancy rate here is way down, except in peak tourist season, and even then not a patch on a couple of their nearby competitors. Another little birdie told me that, despite the quality of the building and the décor, the management here is less than the best and staff turnover is very high.’

  ‘What reliable sources? What little birdie?’

  ‘The people who live here in Coolangatta, and work here. Shop owners. Suppliers. Taxi drivers. They have no reason to lie, whereas the present owners of Sunshine Gardens have every reason to misrepresent the truth.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So what do you say? We miss the dinner and stay up here?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Rachel said eagerly as relief overwhelmed her.

  Justin smiled his own pleasure at the change of plan. ‘We’ll order a bottle of wine with our dinner,’ he suggested on picking up the menu. ‘And then we might have a dance or two. That dress has dancing written all over it.’

  Rachel’s heart jolted. She hadn’t danced in years. The last time had been with Eric, the week before he’d broken off with her, and the day before she found out the awful news about Lettie. They’d been to a Christmas party and she’d got very tipsy on the punch. He’d whispered hot words of love and desire in her ears whilst he danced with her, holding her very close, making her want him to put his words into action. When she’d been beyond resisting him he’d whisked her into the bathroom and made love to her up against the door.

  Or so she’d thought at the time. Now she knew he hadn’t been making love at all. He’d just been having sex. Because he’d never really loved her.

  ‘I…I haven’t danced in years,’ she said, her voice shaking a little at the memory. As much as she no longer loved Eric, the damage he’d perpetrated on her female psyche was still there.

  ‘You didn’t dance at your friend’s wedding?’ Justin asked on a note of surprise.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? I’ll bet you were asked in that dress.’

  ‘Yes, I was.’

  ‘Why did you say no?’

  ‘I…I just didn’t want to.’ In truth, she’d felt far too emotionally fragile at the time to do something as potentially destructive as dance with a man. When she’d watched the bride and groom dance their first dance together she’d been consumed with a pain so sharp, and a misery so deep, she’d fled into a powder room—one of her favourite escapes—and cried for ages.

  Justin frowned. ‘This has something to do with Eric the Mongrel, hasn’t it?’

  Her smile was sad. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘You told him in the lift you’d moved on, Rachel. And you told me just now he no longer mattered to you. I think it’s time you put your feet where your mouth is. You’re going to dance with me tonight and I don’t want to hear another word about it. I won’t take no for an answer.’

  ‘Yes, boss,’ she said, rather amused by his tough-guy attitude. It was so un-Justin. Same as with his earlier pretending to be a sleazebag boss.

  ‘That’s a very good phrase,’ he pronounced firmly. ‘Practise saying it.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Again.’

  She laughed. ‘Yes, boss.’

  He grinned. ‘By George, she’s got it!’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JUSTIN sat there, watching Rachel really enjoy herself, possibly for the first time in years. She’d relished the food, despite the meal being a simple one, and she’d certainly swigged back her fair share of the wine. Now she was looking totally relaxed, leaning back and peering up at the stars.

  He’d just ordered their after-dinner coffee but it probably wouldn’t arrive for a while. Whilst the setting and ambience of the bar was great, the service was slow. The place was clearly understaffed, especially for a Saturday night. Management were probably cutting costs to make their profit margin look better, a common strategy when a business was for sale.

  Time to ask Rachel to dance, Justin decided. The music coming from inside the bar was nice and slow, the rhythm easy to follow.

  He rose to his feet, walked round her side of the table and held out his hand towards her. ‘Shall we take a turn around the terrace, Ms Witherspoon?’ he asked with feigned old-fashioned formality.

  She smiled up at him. Such a lovely smile she had. Pity she didn’t use it more often. Still, maybe she would after tonight.

  ‘Why, thank you, Mr Darcy. Oops. Mr McCarthy, I mean.’ When she stood up she swayed back dangerously on her high heels. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her hard against him.

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped, her eyes startled as they jerked up to meet his.

  ‘Methinks you’ve had too much to drink, Ms Witherspoon,’ he chided gently. ‘Just as well you find yourself in a gentleman’s company this evening, or you might be in a spot of bother.’

  ‘Yes. Just as well,’ she murmured even whilst her eyes remained locked to his and her woman’s body stayed pressed up against him.

  Justin could not believe it when his own male body suddenly stirred to life. Neither could Rachel, by the look on her face.

  Nevertheless, she didn’t move. Or say a word. Just stared up at him with those lovely eyes of hers, her lips still parted. Yet for all that, she didn’t look disgusted, or repelled by his arousal. Neither did she attempt to push him away, not even when his arms developed a devilish mind of their own and stole around her waist, one hand settling in the small of her back, the other sliding down to play over the soft swell of her buttocks. Instead of wrenching away from him in outrage, her own arms actually slipped up around his neck, and she sank even more closely against him.

  ‘Rachel,’ he breathed warningly.

  ‘Yes, boss?’ she said in a low, husky voice, her hazel eyes having gone all smoky.

  ‘You’re drunk.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Maybe dancing together isn’t such a good idea.’

  ‘Just shut up, boss, and move your feet.’

  Her uncharacteristic assertiveness surprised him, but he shut up and moved his feet. Still, he’d been rig
ht. It wasn’t a good idea. The slow, sensual rhythm of the music got further into his blood, as did the scent—and softness—of the woman in his arms. Of course, it didn’t help that her fingertips started stroking the back of his neck in a highly provocative fashion, or that she kept gazing up at him with eyes full of erotic promise. By the time the music stopped he was in agony, his erection straining against the fly of his suit trousers.

  At least he had a jacket on.

  ‘I need to go to the gents’,’ he ground out after depositing her back in her chair. Fortunately, their coffee had finally arrived. A potful, as ordered. Hopefully, after a couple of strong cups Rachel might sober up and stop trying to seduce him.

  His normally very proper PA was going to hate herself in the morning, Justin thought ruefully as he strode back inside the bar and over to the gents’. Alcohol could make even the most sensible woman behave a bit stupidly. Add her tipsy state to all that had happened earlier this evening, and he had a very different Rachel on his hands tonight.

  Of course, he had to shelve some of the blame himself. He hadn’t realised when he’d encouraged her to make herself over today that her transformation would be quite so dramatic. When a woman looked as seriously good as Rachel did tonight she was apt to find her flirtatious side.

  Still, what was his excuse for responding so powerfully? Since he didn’t fancy Rachel in that sense, he could only conclude he was suffering from acute frustration.

  Maybe his male body was finally rebelling against its long stint of celibacy. Possibly it was time for him to search out an accommodating female who’d give him regular sex without any emotional strings involved. Definitely no strings involved. The last thing he wanted was a serious relationship. Or being told he was loved.

  Definitely not. Sex was all he needed, something that was painfully obvious when he went into a cubicle in the gents’ and confronted his wayward flesh.