Romance: Duplicity (Duplicity New Adult Romance Book 1) (2 page)

"Hello, Holly Martin." My heart skips a beat as the voice registers in my brain. It's Nicholas, and he wants to see me now.

With butterflies in my stomach I carefully straighten my skirt and walk towards his room. It's one of the coveted corner offices with views across the Thames. The office that should have been mine. He's got his name on the door already. Fast mover.

I knock the door twice before opening it. Nicholas is seated at the desk.

"Oh, Holly Martin. Yes, come, come." He motions towards the chair across from him. I sit. He smiles. "I apologise for earlier ... making you go first … but you were the only one I'd already met."

"Already met?" I enquire. I am pretty sure where this is going but I want to make him say it.

"Yes, this morning … in the lift?"
 

An awkward pause.

I can feel myself blushing again and hope it looks like anger. I remember how this morning I had enjoyed our encounter. Funny how much can change in an hour.

"I would hardly consider that as having met," I reply, indignant.

"No, I apologise, these are my silly games," he admits, suddenly sounding very foreign.

I almost laugh aloud at the clumsiness of his defence. I'm still cross with him, with the situation, and how badly today is going. Yet, in this close proximity, there's a tangible attraction in the air. Nicholas leans across the desk as he explains how he needs to schedule a meeting with me, to discuss the Henderson pitch. He smells good enough to eat.

I feel a stirring, deep inside me, that I can't ignore. The nagging pull of desire. My heart is beating so hard I'm surprised he can't hear it. I catch my breath as Nicholas pauses for a second and looks at me expectantly. I nod in feigned agreement, unable to speak. I can't stand everything about this guy but I WANT him bad.

Nicholas is talking through his plans while all I can do is drink him up with my eyes. I try to look coherent, picking up the odd word, but when he says debrief I'm thinking of which knickers I'm wearing and how soon he might take them off.

I'm jolted back to reality with a text alert from my phone. Nicholas is shrugging, an embarrassed laugh as he tells me he's having trouble syncing his calendar. Jeez, what a dork.

I check my phone to see a message from Adam:

Order me to meet you, then keep me waiting. Diva :(

Oh hell's bells. Adam's been down there waiting for me all this time. In the fuss of the moment I forgot to let him know Van Hoogen had summoned me.

I swipe the screen to call Adam. Van Hoogen looks at me in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he says, the irritation obvious in his tone.

I meet Van Hoogen's gaze and proceed with the call anyway. "Adam? Hi, I'm in Nicholas Van Hoogen's office. He needs some IT support. Can you come up please? Yes, Eve's old room."

Nicholas's knitted brow lifts and a slow smile builds. He looks me up and down in that unmistakable way. It's clear to me the attraction is mutual. With no attempt at subtlety, he's peeling away the layers, imagining what's underneath.

I try to resist the temptation washing over me.
In your dreams, Van Hoogen.

But it's futile, as my arousal heightens. My knees loosen and part slightly. I'm afraid of losing my dignity if I don't get out of here. Light-headed, I daren't stand up.
Breathe you idiot.

Mesmerised, we stare at each other in silence, locked in the moment.

"Is everything ok, Miss Martin. Are you unwell?" Van Hoogen looks concerned, his eyes softening, and rises from his chair to come round to the other side of the desk. "Here, let me help you."
 

Reaching for my hands, he helps me to my feet. His touch sends a jolt of warmth through my body, and a tingle of pleasure up my back. I swear he must be able to feel me tremble.

"I'll be fine, thank you," I mumble, "It's just been a weird day, that's all. Sorry."

I bite my lip self-consciously then turn and walk to the door. With each step I can feel the wetness between my legs.

In my dreams too, Van Hoogen, and that's where you'll have to stay.

As I leave the office, Adam is approaching. "OK?" he mouths.

"Meet me after. Coffee bar," I reply. He nods in agreement.

CHAPTER FOUR

Adam appears downstairs within minutes. "Hey, you OK, Hols?"

"Oh, Adam," I sigh. "What a day. Let's run away together. Fuck it all!" I stir sugar into my double shot of espresso. It's not even lunch time yet but I could do with something stronger.

"Tut, tut. Language, young lady," he mock scolds me.

I muster a smile, even though I'm on the verge of tears. Adam is my one true friend at Cathwell's. It's a cut-throat environment and I don't entirely trust any of the others in my department.

We met two years ago on the same induction program for the new intake of company recruits, when we hit it off instantly. Adam was wearing jeans and a T-shirt of a band I really love. I admired the way he hadn't felt the pressure to turn up in a shirt on the first day. I was such a rookie I thought he was a rebel, not knowing then that IT dress code is a law onto itself.

He has a quiet confidence about him, and even though he's older than me by several years, his boyishness is endearing. He has a wicked sense of humour and he's really smart too. I've always suspected that Adam plays down his intelligence, for reasons known only to himself. I suppose there's no crime in not wanting to be a high flyer. There's no doubt he could go far if he ever decides to play the corporate game.

So, here we are. Best pals, always there for each other when we need to vent and have a good rant. OK, so that's maybe not all there is to it. Yes, there's an ongoing flirtation and if I'm honest I do enjoy the attention Adam bestows on me.

He asked me out on a date soon after we met but I refused. I'm not attracted to him that way. Not that I've a problem with redheads - look at Prince Harry after all - but I like my men tall, dark and handsome. The brooding type. I know, what a cliché.

Anyway, at the time he just didn't do it for me, all that wearing his heart on his sleeve. I found it off-putting although if I'm honest he's grown on me with time. But I still think we're better as friends and not complicating things with sex. I just want to concentrate on my career. Adam goes along with it, I don't think he minds. He's always got a girl or other on the go. He still keeps asking me out, and I keep knocking him back, but it's become a bit of a joke between us. I don't think he would know what hit him if I ever change my mind and say yes. Not that that's likely to happen.

"So, the Dutch dick got your job," Adam commiserates. "Well, you could wipe the floor with him. Based on the incompetence I've just witnessed up there, he might not be staying long." Adam rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "Can't even send a frickin' email."

Fiercely loyal to me as ever, Adam continues to diss Van Hoogen on everything from his lack of basic IT skills to his choice of tie, until somehow he gets me laughing.

"Really? I thought his tie was nice," I joke.

"Yes, for a news reader," Adam jibes. "Anyway, what's he like?"

"Cocky," I smile. Holding that thought, I head back to work.

CHAPTER FIVE

My head is throbbing. What a morning. The coffee's jangled my nerves and I can’t settle down to work. It's lunchtime, and I decide to get out for some fresh air. I'll have to make it quick as I've so much work to do thanks to Van Hoogen.

Outside the office, I dart between the standstill traffic on the Strand towards Prêt à Manger. It's packed as usual. I order my favourite. If ever I deserve a treat, it's today.

At the checkout, I get the feeling I'm being watched. When I turn and look around I can't believe my bad luck. My nemesis, Nicholas Van Hoogen, is sitting alone at a table in the corner. If I had seen him earlier, I wouldn't have come in. I mentally kick myself for not paying attention. As it is, there's no way I can avoid him on the way out.

He smiles when he sees me notice him, and waves to me to come over. I mime back that I'm not sitting in, then he's on his feet coming towards me.

"I hope you're feeling better, Holly?" he says, touching the crook of my elbow gently.

Looking into those steely eyes of his, I find myself nodding, meekly. I'm like a clockwork dummy.
Wind me up and take me home.
What is this man doing to me to render me dumbstruck at every opportunity?

"Holly ..." The way Nicholas softly says my name, it's almost a whisper but somehow leaves an echo in my head. "Let me walk back with you. I want to ... what is the saying ... pick your brains? I hope that's ok."

I want to remind him that I'm on my lunch break but it's obvious that this is a man who gets what he wants.

"It's such a beautiful day, why don't we sit over in that little park by the office," and without waiting for an answer, he leads the way. I'm sure my body language is telling him no, but he is not accepting it. I follow, a couple of steps behind. He turns around to see where I am.

"You know what, I'm going to take this back to my desk. I have a lot of work on," I snap at him and shrug, lips pursed, "as you well know." Oops, that sounds more sarcastic than intended, but if Van Hoogen picks up on it he doesn't flinch.

He shakes his head. "I don't approve of eating at the desk, Holly. It is unhealthy. As your boss I insist you take a proper break." His tone is playful and his eyes are dancing. It is becoming clear I have no say in this. It's not that I have authority issues but I feel like I'm being coerced. Everything's spinning out of my control today, and Van Hoogen is the eye of the storm.

"Come," he reaches out and I'm instinctively drawn towards him. Maybe he's genuinely just being friendly. As Tara would say, not everyone thinks in our warped fashion. Then I remember the lift incident and the scene in his office earlier. I'm not imagining this. Whatever his motives, his effect on me is magnetic.

We walk in silence in the direction of the park. I use the opportunity to gather my thoughts. I'm uncertain whether he's a friend or a foe. While my natural reaction is to blame him for stealing my promotion, it occurs to me I probably need to suck it up and move on already.

The park is full of people on their lunch break. I can see various Cathwell colleagues are checking us out as Van Hoogen and I sit on a wooden bench. As the sun warms my skin and I relax, I have to admit to myself that hanging out with a tall, fit, Dutch guy on a sunny Monday afternoon isn't the worst problem in the world. Van Hoogen's attention is flattering and not entirely unwelcome. But for some reason, my natural confidence deserts me in his presence. I don't want him to think I'm always such a drip. He's my boss and of course I want to impress him. Uh-oh. The penny drops. Do I like this guy?

I open my salad box. Van Hoogen peers over. "Cobb Salad? Great choice, I had that too. My favourite!"

Oh jeepers. We're Prêt twins. "Want some more?" I offer him the salad box but he pushes it back. How the hell am I going to eat this? Not surprisingly, I've lost my appetite. I poke at the salad, without enthusiasm.

He's staring at me intently, noting every detail. "Oh I apologise. Please, go ahead, eat."

"Oh, don't worry," I reply, "I'm not really that hungry." I close the lid with a sigh.

"Well, then, Holly Martin, tell me something about yourself."

When he said he wanted to pick my brains, I thought he was looking for me to dish the dirt on the office politics or to discuss a client. There's something about how he's looking at me that says he's genuine. I decide to go with the flow.

Before I know it, I'm telling him about my mum and dad at home in Yorkshire, and my time at university. It turns out his mother is English and he has an aunt up north, so he knows the area. He appears impressed by my LSE degree. He says he studied in New York but doesn't explain how he ended up there. Here we are, sharing the details of our lives and I've forgotten how he ordered me to accompany him, and how awkward he makes me feel, and how he got my job.

The more we talk, the more I'm thinking how he seems like not a bad guy, and how interested he is in what I'm saying, and how he never takes his eyes off me the whole time. It's not awkward at all.

"And so, Holly Martin. The million dollar question. You haven't mentioned a husband or a partner or a boyfriend, so can I assume you are single?"

Cheeky bastard. Just because we're getting along, he'd better not ask me out.

I answer casually, "I'm not with anyone right now but there's plenty of time for all that later. At the moment I'm concentrating on my career." I bat his question right back at him. "So, what about you, Nicholas? Is there a Mrs. Van Hoogen?"

"Please, Holly, call me Nick."

He looks away. A couple of seconds of silence follow, long enough to tell me the mood has changed.
Don't dish it if you can't take it.
I could swear his voice cracks when he finally replies, "I have no wife."

The words hang in the air between us there, relative strangers on a park bench. And the moment is gone as the noises of London - traffic, people shouting into their phones, the birds in the trees around us - burst in breaking our spell. Nick rises to his feet and I follow. We walk back to the office, the conversation having turned more pedestrian.