determined to not give me an extra second isn’t he? ‘Suits me,’ I say lightly. I put a hand on one hip, striving for casual, turn and manoeuvre myself so the other hand can grope around in the case behind me.
He watches every move. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’
‘Okay.’
Shaking his head, he slides from the room and I spin round to my case. Just as the door swings shut, his voice echoes through the tiny gap, ‘I’ll be waiting.’
It makes me laugh and I shake my head.
Right. Focus. Twenty-five minutes left. I lay out minuscule black lace underwear and a favourite evening dress I packed with two others, just in case. Tight, deep-purple, strapless and with small jewel-encrusted pockets, the hem is just above the knee. It’s one of those dresses that makes you feel good, boosts your confidence. And the hotel is so posh I have to dress up.
I pelt into the bathroom but am still able to appreciate the modern black and white tiles, the corner bath with jets and the gloriously huge walk-in shower. It’s divine. Imagine waking up to this every day. Bliss. Pulling on a shower cap, I push a button and step into the hot blast of water. I’d love to wash my hair – it’s gone wild from snow and wind and dry cabin air – but I don’t have time. Scrubbing with branded complementary shower gel and realising Alex is probably showering only a handful of feet away, my eyes slide shut. Imagine what he’d look like without his formal suit, stripped bare. Broad chest, long muscular arms and legs plus other interesting parts. He’s bound to be a dream naked. The man looks built. I bet he has a six-pack.
I inhale sharply, nipples tightening, an answering throb between my legs. No, stop it. To shake loose the dirty thoughts, I turn the temperature down, gasping as the icy needles chill my skin. It does the trick, reining my hormones in. Turning the shower off, I step from the cubicle, whip off the shower cap and dry briskly with the fluffy bath sheets, finishing up with lashings of moisturiser. Applying light make-up, I unpin and brush out my hair, tying it in a messy topknot and spraying it with gloss-effect hairspray.
Darting into the bedroom, I tug on underwear, ignoring the horrible slide of fabric on cream-dampened skin. Scrambling into the dress, I adjust it to sit right on my waist and hips and hold my boobs in. Threading on dangly jet black earrings and a matching chunky necklace, I spray on perfume before bucketing around the room for a quick tidy. I check my watch as I strap it back on. 8.13 p.m. Last thing is to slide my size-eight elephant feet into black suede-effect stiletto heels.
Although expected, the loud rap at the door still makes me jump.
‘It’s Alex,’ his voice is muffled, ‘ready?’
‘Yes,’ I holler, ‘come in.’
Alex enters as I’m reaching across the bed to grab my clutch bag.
‘That,’ his voice sounds strangled, ‘is impressive.’
Standing, I note the new form-fitting black suit and pale-blue shirt that sets off his eyes spectacularly. No tie tonight, top button undone. I prefer the slightly more casual look on him and gulp. ‘Thanks. I said I’d be ready in time.’ I can’t help gloating.
He smiles, acknowledging my victory. ‘Yes, you did, though I was talking about– Ah, never mind, you look very smart.’
‘Thanks.’ Smart? I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so deflated by a compliment. It’s not as if we’re on a date, it’s a work dinner and we’re just colleagues, but would it have killed him to dream up something better than you look smart? It’s what Mum said on the first day of school or what Gran might remark about one of my more modest dresses. Huh. ‘Shall we go then?’ Moving past Alex, I grab the door handle.
‘Charley.’
‘Yes?’ I’m startled to find my nose practically pressed against his shirt front when I spin around. Too close. Way too close. He smells gorgeous and my knees go liquid.
He puts some room between us. ‘I was just going to say that … ’ he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.
‘Yes?’ A long uncomfortable pause follows. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’
A silence drags out. I’m ultra aware of my bare legs and tiny underwear, the raw urge to bridge the distance to him, push my hands into that thick, dark hair and kiss him. I tighten my grip around the door handle, using it to anchor me to reality. It’s difficult. His eyes are so blue staring into them all day would be no hardship at all.
‘I mean, I just remembered,’ he says in a deep rock-star husky voice, ‘that I need to make a quick call.’
I blink. Now, just as we’re going to dinner? After how keen he was for me to be ready on time? It must be important. It’s after office hours, so perhaps it’s his girlfriend he needs to phone. In the car he said he didn’t have one, but his definition of girlfriend and mine might be different. I don’t like the twitch in my stomach at the thought.
‘I’ll go downstairs then.’ I murmur. ‘Meet you in the bar?’
‘Yes. I’ll be down shortly.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’
I’m pinned to the door by the intense expression on his face. It’s like he wants to say something but can’t quite get it out. What? Please don’t tell me about your girlfriend. I don’t want to know.
‘I’ll bring a copy of the schedule down with me,’ he states.
His reminder that this is work is the perfect push to break away. ‘Great.’ Whirling around, I leave as fast as possible on my high heels. I need time. I need space. And for the sake of my sanity I need to see him as my boss … not a man.
‘Bugger!’ While talking on my mobile to Jess, I hunt for a quiet corner in the hotel bar. The call will cost money I don’t have, but this is an emergency. ‘Bugger, bugger, bugger!’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘The CEO. Alex. He’s gorgeous! Tall, dark-haired, ruggedly handsome and heavenly-bodied. Every time I’m with him I practically swoon, like a girl from those regency novels you devour. Or I basically drool. It’s so embarrassing. What am I going to do?’
‘Well, if you’d listened to me you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. I told you, it’s not right—’
‘What’s not right is what Tony bloody Ferrier did to me. Jess, please,’ I beg, ‘less teacher mode and more best friend. You still love me, right?’
‘Yes,’ she sighs. ‘Of course. Okay, so you’re finally going gaga over a man.’ She chuckles, lightening up. ‘I must admit I was wondering if it’d ever happen.’
‘That is not helpful.’ Spotting a free table, I stride across the room and sit down, ordering a glass of white wine from a passing waiter with a series of elaborate hand gestures. ‘And I’d hardly say going gaga. I’m just struggling a little to stay professional, that’s all.’
‘Sorry, but a little? You just said you nearly swooned.’ She laughs.
‘I’m glad you think this is funny. Remember that when you’re having to pull me out of a giant tub of ice cream and prise the empty wine bottle from my cold fingers because it’s all gone wrong.’ Then I interject quickly, ‘Don’t say it.’
‘Fine. And you’re there now, so we have to deal with it, I guess. Hmm. He’s gorgeous. Well, I agree it would be better if he was fat, old, smelly and bald.’
‘If only. And what’s really