Rebel with a Cause (8 page)

She felt increasingly stilted, her pulse skipping—too fast for the rhythm of the music. She couldn't relax—tried not to look at him at all. Until he grasped her by the upper arms and pulled her to him.

She gasped as their bodies collided.

‘You're mad with me for leaving like that,' he roughly muttered in her ear.

‘No, I'm not.' She shook head and glared at him. ‘It was good you did, actually.'

‘Oh?' His eyes glittered in the lights. It looked as if his temper was off the leash now.

‘Saved us from any awkwardness,' she snapped.

‘And you're not awkward now?'

‘No.' She tossed her head, refusing to admit she was basically dying of discomfort. ‘But my shoes are killing me so I've had enough dancing, thanks. You don't need me for anything tonight anyway, right? For the Whistle, I mean.'

‘No.' His reply was frigid. Hard eyes raked her. ‘Not at all.' He pushed her away and stalked through the crowd.

Sophy felt her own anger grow. What did he want—for her to fall at his feet again? To act the desperate female?

Never.

She pushed her way back to the bar where Rosanna was standing alone—a fresh cocktail in hand. She handed it out and Sophy gladly took a deep sip and handed it back.

‘Why don't you just do him and be done with it?' Rosanna asked as if it were the most logical thing in the world. ‘Honestly, the tension between you two is electric.'

Sophy didn't inform her that she already had done him. And that instead of making the tension go away it had only made it worse. Much,
much
worse.

‘I should have known you'd have it in you. You never give yourself enough credit, as a result no one else does,' Rosanna commented. ‘Our mistake.'

Have what in her? The ability to attract a shark like Lorenzo? Big deal. Rosanna had been right first time round—she couldn't handle him. ‘What's with you and the
Vance guy?' Sophy asked, wanting to think about something else. ‘I mean, that was rude, even for you.'

Rosanna shrugged. ‘Unfinished business, you know?'

Um, well, yes. Sophy knew Rosanna was angry, but she had her own frustrations too—and she needed space to deal with them. ‘I've had enough. I'm going home. You coming?'

Rosanna had the huntress look in her eye. ‘No. I'm finishing the business. Tonight.'

‘Are you sure?' Sophy didn't think it was such a good idea. Rosanna rarely allowed her emotions to bubble close to the surface and right now they were clearly on show.

‘Deadly.'

Sophy hesitated, wondered if she should stay—convince her friend to let it go. But she felt the presence at her back—the surge in awareness. She turned. Lorenzo—standing a millimetre away but looking totally remote. And she just knew he'd been listening in.

‘Stuck for a ride?' he asked bluntly.

‘I can get a cab.'

‘No need. I'll run you home.'

‘You're not staying?'

‘Obviously not.'

She hesitated. It would be churlish to refuse. And she was handling this like a sophisticate, wasn't she? ‘That would be great. Thanks.'

They walked from the bar. Not awkward at all? Ha.

‘It's a real success,' she said for the sake of saying something.

‘Yeah. Vance had the vision. It was a good one.'

But it was Lorenzo who had backed him on it. Kat had told her some of the background—turned out Lorenzo was the only one who would back Vance, when the banks wouldn't.

‘I wonder how Rosanna knows him.'

‘You'll have to ask her.'

Quite the clam, wasn't he? She gave up on the small talk and simply watched him drive. The powerful machine purred under his hands, responding to his slightest touch. Just as she had. She started to sweat again, clenched her muscles to stop the softening. She still wanted him,
badly
. But she wasn't going to make the mistake of asking him again—she didn't want to hear him say no. He pulled over outside Rosanna's villa. She undid her belt and had her door open in a split second. The sooner she got away from him, the more likely she was to escape with the little dignity she had left. But her deeply in grained politeness made her bend and glance back into the car—right at him. ‘Thanks for the ride.'

‘My pleasure.' His hard gaze bored into her.

Utterly still, she took in the intensity in his face. Why so angry? Burning with confusion, with embarrassment as she suddenly thought of an alternative to the ‘ride' they were talking about, she slammed the door.

Lorenzo swore. Forced himself to wait until she was inside the door of her home and then put his foot to the floor. What the hell was he doing hovering around her? She was determined not to be bothered, that their night truly was all over. She couldn't have made that clearer. And wasn't that what he wanted?

No. He'd wanted her to admit she was feeling as out of sorts as he was—as unfulfilled, as hungry.

He gripped the wheel tighter and knew he'd better head back to the warehouse pronto before he did something stupid. He could feel it surging within him, the energy seeking to burst out of his skin. He hadn't felt it this bad in a long time—the anger and the desire to destroy. The darkness deep within him was awake. Maybe it was a result of
the illness last week. His control had been weakened. But it was the thought of Sophy that threatened it the most.

He'd just stay up all night. He'd get it back under control.

R
OSANNA
didn't return that night but sent a safe-status text in the morning. Sophy grumped her way through breakfast, telling herself she desperately needed to Get Over Lorenzo.

She stayed at home all Sunday but went to work her usual ten minutes early on Monday. Tried to keep her pulse at a vaguely normal rate as she climbed the stairs up to her little domain. Not awkward. Not awkward at all.

She heard the voices as she neared the top. Stopped on the thresh old of her office door. The girl was very pretty. Already seated in
Sophy's
chair. Kat, the receptionist, was showing her the damn computer system already.

‘Hello.' Sophy smiled, ultra bright and polite. She was not going to get evil over this.

‘Hi, Sophy.' Kat looked up and beamed. ‘This is Jemma, who's here to help you out.'

Oh, right. Help her out. Like she needed helping out? Like she needed a pretty, petite thing to do the work for her? Oh, please. After she'd just spent the last week giving the place a complete overhaul? She didn't need help
now
. No, it was more like now the hard stuff was done she wasn't needed any more.

Now he'd slept with her he didn't want her around at all.

It wouldn't be awkward at all then, would it?

The jealousy kicked in, the resentment swirling around, the energy building in her until she had enough fuel inside to launch a rocket to the moon.

‘Are you okay showing her some stuff for a while longer, Kat?' she barely managed to ask nicely.

Kat nodded.

‘Great.' Yes, she wasn't needed at all. She gripped her bag all the more tightly. ‘I've just got to see Lorenzo.'

Kat nodded. ‘He's about. I saw him earlier.'

Oh, good. Sophy briskly walked the few metres along the corridor to his office—it was empty. She checked the other office—the other staff were back now, having done their bit for Vance. But Lorenzo wasn't in with them either. She walked faster—she refused to let him avoid this one.

She went down stairs but he wasn't out in the yard. She went into one of the darkened rooms where they stored the cases of wine—all on pallets ready to be shipped. He was bending down by one, checking the dispatch label by the looks of things. He straightened when he saw her. Watched as she walked towards him, the heels of her shoes rapidly clicking on the concrete floor.

‘You've got a temp in,' she said briskly.

‘Yeah.'

Even though she knew already, she had to take a second to absorb the hit from the casual dismissal in his tone.

‘I thought you were all about keeping Cara happy and not getting some clueless temp in?' Sophy cringed even as she bitched at him; she was quite sure Jemma wasn't clueless, but it had been his point originally. ‘Do you have any idea how hard I've worked here? I've fixed the whole mess.'

‘I know you have. A five-year-old could work the filing system you've put in place. It's perfect for a temp now.'

She reeled. Was that supposed to be a compliment? To make her feel okay about it? ‘You mean it's the perfect time to get rid of me.'

He walked towards her. ‘What are you so mad about? I thought there were other things you wanted to be doing anyway?'

That wasn't the point. The point was his shabby treatment of her. ‘You just don't want me to be here any more? You're embarrassed. You're the one who's feeling awkward.'

‘That's not why I got a temp in.'

‘Yeah, right. Can't handle it, can you? Anything remotely personal going on in your precious little domain.'

‘What happened with us is not why she's here.'

‘That's rubbish, Lorenzo. At least be honest and admit it. You want me gone.'

He swore right back at her—only worse. ‘Quite the opposite. Come with me.'

Given he now had hold of her wrist in a clench that threatened to break the smallest bones in there, she didn't have much choice.

‘Lorenzo!'

He didn't listen. Didn't stop. Stormed out of the store room and up the stairs, past the offices until he got to the empty room at the back.

He let her go and she was still moving so fast from being dragged along with him she half ran into the middle of the room. He strode back to the door and slammed it shut, whirled to face her, his arms flung out. ‘This is why.'

She stared around the big empty room. There was a large table in the middle, a few chairs around it. ‘I don't follow.'

Clearly fuming, he enlightened her. ‘You can set up in here. Work the rest of the day, half the night if you need
to. To get your jewellery done for the show. This can be your workroom.'

She stared at him. ‘You're kidding.'

‘No.' He walked further into the room, turned his back to her so she couldn't read his expression. ‘I'm vaguely useful. If you need to use power tools or something, I can help.'

‘You mean you can plug them in?'

He grunted then—almost a laugh. ‘Yeah.' He faced her, his hands on his hips, still looking like a warrior about to launch an offensive any minute. ‘I just thought you could work here in the afternoons. You'd be around if the temp needed help but you'd have the time to work on your own stuff. You can stay later. You don't have to pack it up at the end of the day, just spread out and get it done.'

Calm descended over her, her earlier anger soothed by a new suspicion. ‘Why didn't you tell me?'

He looked even grumpier. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise.'

She blinked. Well, it had been a surprise. But he'd meant it as a
nice
surprise. ‘Why did you want to surprise me?'

He looked away. ‘I don't know.'

Yes, he did. She waited.

‘You've done a lot for the fund,' he muttered. ‘I thought it was a way of saying thanks.'

And that was all it was? She didn't think so. She walked right into his personal space, her heart hurtling inside but trying to keep her efficient cool look on the outside.

He stiffened but didn't move away.

‘Did you want to do something nice for me, Lorenzo?'

He looked to the side but still didn't step back.

She smiled and took another pace closer. And closer still.

His hands were suddenly on her arms. ‘What are you doing?'

‘I thought I'd say thank you,' she breathed oh-so-innocently.

His gaze dropped to her lips. His fingers tightened that extra notch but the rest of him stayed rigid.

Bingo.

The guy still wanted.

Well, the guy would get.

But not yet.

She reached up on tiptoe, brushed her lips ever so gently against his jaw—that inch too close to his lips to be purely platonic as he had once done to her. She stayed there a second longer, whispered in a way she'd only ever fantasised about, ‘Thank you, Lorenzo.'

She tried to move back but his hands were keeping her there now. ‘Sophy.'

Part warning, part what? Sophy couldn't decide. But the whisper seemed to have gone down quite well.

He sighed—part groan—and his fingers softened, smoothing over her skin. ‘You smell good.'

‘Do I?'

He nodded. ‘I smell you every where.'

‘Cheap shampoo. Everyone uses it.'

‘No,' he half laughed. ‘It's you. Only you. And you don't use cheap shampoo.'

Oh, that was nice. She let her weight rest against him a little more.

‘If we do this again, and I mean
if
, then no one knows,' he said firmly.

‘What, it's our “little secret”?' She pulled back to look at him. She wouldn't have thought he'd be one to care.

‘I'm not having gossip on site. No one is to know.'

‘So we remain professional through the day and meet up for rabid sex at night? Is that it?'

His whole body tensed.

She stepped closer, her confidence blossoming despite his obviously conflicted feelings. At least it meant he had feelings. ‘Let's get one other thing straight, Lorenzo. If we do this again, and I mean
if
, then it's for more than one night.'

He swallowed.

‘We're not done until it's finished,' she told him quietly. She was not having another couple of days like this. She'd work him right out of her system. She'd had a taste of danger and she wanted to take it all until there was no danger left.

‘But it will finish.'

‘Sure.' She nodded. It was serious physical chemistry, that was all. She'd get her stuff done for the exhibition and be able to walk away. A week or so would be enough to neutralise it. ‘Deal?'

He nodded. ‘Come upstairs with me now.' His hands were seeking already, sliding beneath the hem of her clothing, hunting for bare skin.

‘I thought you didn't want to have sex here?' What about gossip onsite? Hell if any of them came looking for either of them now they'd be in trouble.

‘I've changed my mind.'

As his hot gaze drank her in she could read his thoughts and she struggled to stay calm.

She put her palm on his flushed cheek. ‘What about Kat? And Jemma and the others?'

He closed his eyes. ‘Sophy.' He sounded so tormented.

She reached up. ‘I want you.' She kissed him. His arms tightened and he didn't let her free of the kiss. But his tension eased, his hands stroking with care now. So that had been what he needed. How surprising—so the neediness wasn't all her? She could feel his heart pounding against
her. Maybe they could go upstairs—sneak up there now just quickly.

Her phone rang. And rang and rang.

Sophy broke the kiss. ‘I have to get that,' she muttered.

He looked at her, bitterness flashing on his face. ‘Of course you do.'

She scrabbled in her bag to find the phone at the bottom, smoothed her hair behind her ears, quickly inhaled to cover her breathlessness and put a smile on her face so her greeting would sound friendly. ‘Sophy speaking.'

He watched her, his face as readable as a stone. She flashed a wider smile at him.

‘Hi, Ted, what's up?' She swung away as she listened. ‘And you need me to pick it up? Sure. No problem. Give me the address.' She dug back into the bag for a pen—no point asking her brother to text the details; he would say he didn't have the time. Sophy repeated the address back to him, glanced up in time to see Lorenzo walking out of the room. Two minutes later the call was dealt with. Sophy stared at the door, wondering why he'd gone.

She went back into her office—found Kat had left Jemma figuring out stuff on her own.

‘It's great you're here.' Sophy smiled, meaning it this time.

But Jemma's attention wasn't on her. She was looking out of the window.

Thud, thud, thud.

Sophy didn't need to look to know what it was but she did anyway. He was back out there already bouncing his damn ball. Well, she wasn't going to go running after him, not this time. She looked across and frowned at the fence. It was covered in even more graffiti now.

She didn't see him the rest of the day, didn't expect to
see him until the next. But when her doorbell rang she wasn't surprised.

‘Have you eaten?' she asked as she opened it to let him in.

He was leaning against the door jamb. Dressed entirely in dark clothes—black trousers, a charcoal V-neck tee. ‘That's not why I'm here.'

She deliberately leaned against the opposite side of the door frame. ‘No? Then why are you here?'

‘Don't play games.' His glare blistered. So he was still brooding.

‘You'd better come in.'

He crossed the thresh old into the hall, stopped as he saw the black-clad sylph standing at the other end of the hall.

‘Lorenzo, you met Rosanna the other night. Rosanna, this is Lorenzo, my boss.'

His frown super-sized up.

Rosanna moved swiftly down the hall, her case rolling behind her. ‘I'm off, darling. Back in a few days. Be good.' She grinned wickedly.

‘You too,' Sophy tried to coo, but it was a squeak.

She heard Rosanna's chuckle.

Lorenzo was still frowning long after the door had closed behind Rosanna.

‘She's very discreet,' Sophy said to reassure him. ‘She won't say anything.'

He jerked his head to the side. ‘I'm not your boss.'

Oh, was that the problem? She smiled. ‘Yes you are.'

‘Not really.'

She knew what he meant and this was different from the usual office affair. In truth she was doing him a favour working for Whistle. The balance of power wasn't so weighted towards him—at least not in respect of that. Sophy wanted to smooth it even more. ‘Tell you what, why
don't you let me be the boss in the bedroom—that'll even us out.'

‘Never.' The fire in his eyes burned from ice-cold to hot.

‘But it's my bedroom.'

He shook his head, chasing off the last of the threatening storm clouds.

‘You just see if you can stay in charge, then.
Boss
.' She threw down the challenge. Knew she didn't have a hope in winning at all—but shrieked with laughter as she turned and ran as fast as she could to her room.

He caught her before she got there and went completely caveman. And she was quite happy to be his woman of the moment.

 

The days couldn't pass fast enough. He was on her doorstep before she even got home some nights. But he didn't suggest she ride home with him and nor did she offer to take him. The boundaries might be in visible but they were there.

But as the evenings lengthened and their physical need was temporarily tamed she turned and talked to him. About nothing. About everything. But never about anything personal. She didn't want to talk about her family, sensed he never would talk about his. But one night she got some courage and steered the conversation slightly towards him. ‘Why the Whistle Fund?'