to. At one point, I fronted a sports programme.’ He raked back the cow-lick of dark hair which persisted in falling over his eyes. ‘But I quit.’
‘Why?’
‘Didn’t care for the fame. The show was aired in several states which meant I was becoming a celebrity, but I don’t like being pounced on by strangers or having journalists pry into my private life. The ski-wear manufacturer asked if I’d promote his products,’ Gifford continued. ‘At which point Bruce and I hit him with our brainwaves. He gave us a loan, factory space and—’ he clicked his fingers ‘—abracadabra.’
‘It can’t have been that simple,’ Cass protested.
‘It wasn’t,’ he admitted, with a rueful smile. ‘As new kids on the block it took a hell of a lot of blood, sweat and tears—of lugging samples around and cold calling—before we were up and rolling, but now—’
‘Life is good?’
Reaching out a hand, he tucked a strand of silky wheat-gold hair behind her ear. ‘Right now, life is very good,’ he said softly.
Her heart began to thud. The anonymous hotel suite, the rain which pattered on the windows, the leaden evening sky—everything faded. Her only awareness was of Gifford—his touch, the husky timbre of his voice, the need which she saw in his grey eyes. A need which she suspected was reflected in her own.
He sat back, loosening his tie in what struck her as an attractively masculine gesture. ‘Your boss isn’t into blood, sweat and tears,’ he said. ‘He might get a kick out of being the big cheese and having his name painted on the best parking space, but he resents having to come into the office day after day.’
Cass hesitated. A sense of loyalty tempted her to insist otherwise—and lie through her teeth. But Gifford would know she was lying.
‘From his birth it was decreed that Stephen would take over from his father. It’s the family tradition,’ she explained, ‘but he lacks any real interest’
‘Whereas you are interested. You know what’s happening in all areas of the business, and you have savvy, which is why I asked for you to accompany me.’
‘Asked?’ Cass said. ‘It sounded more like a demand.’
A grin cut across his mouth. ‘OK, I demanded. But if Stephen’d come along he’d have been worse than useless. You’re carrying the guy. I hope he’s paying you a high salary?’
‘So high I’d be foolish to ever leave,’ she replied.
‘What goes on between you two?’ Gifford enquired as he sipped his wine. He fixed her with narrowed grey eyes. ‘You’re obviously close, and Stephen gave me the impression that—’
‘That what?’ Cass asked, when he frowned.
‘That you might have a…more personal involvement.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Stephen and me? No, you must’ve misunderstood. I’ve worked for him for a long time, but although he’s a couple of years older than me Stephen’s like a kid brother.’
‘A self-centred and petulant kid brother,’ Gifford said. He knew he was not mistaken and that the younger man had deliberately given him the wrong impression. Maybe to warn him off?
‘On occasions,’ she had to agree. ‘But he can also be kind, thoughtful and fun. His father dominates him, while his mother has always spoiled him—Stephen was a late baby and an only child—and that’s a difficult mix for anyone to handle.’
‘Parents can land their kids with all kinds of problems,’ he said gravely, and was silent for a moment. Then he gave a satisfied nod. ‘You and Stephen are just friends—good.’
‘Why good?’
‘Because it means you don’t have a serious man in your life, so—’
‘What makes you sure of that?’ Cass interrupted.
‘You haven’t phoned anyone while we’ve been on our travels or spoken about anyone.’ He shot her a suddenly worried look. ‘I don’t doubt you have to beat the guys off with a stick, but is there anyone serious?’
She shook her head. Although she was twenty-seven, she had only had one serious relationship, but that had run out of steam over a year ago.
‘Not at the moment.’
‘Thank God. So you won’t have any hang-ups about us making love,’ Gifford completed.
All of a sudden, the air seemed to throb.
‘Making love?’ she repeated, with care.
‘It’s inevitable.’
‘You think so?’
‘I do.’ Moving closer, Gifford took the glass which she held in increasingly shaky fingers and set it aside with his on a low table. ‘And it’s another reason—probably the main reason—why I demanded that you accompany me.’
‘You are sly and underhand,’ Cass informed him. ‘A self-serving shark.’
‘Aren’t I just?’ he said, and smiled a smile so ravishing it could have melted a stone. It melted her heart. ‘But you think that us making love is inevitable, too.’ Framing her face with his hands, he looked deep into her eyes. ‘You know that sooner or later we’re going to wind up in bed. Yes?*
She gulped in a breath. Why deny the truth?
‘Yes.’
‘You want me and I want you. I want you so much it’s all I can think about. You’re driving me crazy.’ He raised anguished brows. ‘Hell, Cass, I’m suffering here.’
She grinned. ‘You’d like me to take pity and put you out of your misery?’
‘It’d be a humane gesture of the greatest magnanimity. Now…’ he said, and he drew her close and kissed her.
His lips parted her lips. The muscle of his tongue explored the velvet confines of her mouth, and utterly seduced her. With her hands clutching at his shoulders, her head spinning and her senses reeling, Cass flowed into the kiss. She needed him. For so long, she had ached for him. As she wrapped herself closer around him, they kissed again. Their breathing quickened, then Gifford was leading her through to his bedroom and swiftly undressing her.
‘You’re beautiful, Cass,’ he said, when she stood naked before him. His eyes roamed over her high breasts with their taut nipples, down across the smooth plane of her belly to the fair curls which grew at the crevice of her thighs. He raised his head, and, reaching out a hand, withdrew the tortoiseshell comb which secured her hair. ‘Beautiful,’ he repeated huskily as the heavy strands swirled down to rest on her shoulders in a gleaming wheaten curtain.
Cass stepped closer, her fingers going to the buttons on his shirt. ‘My turn,’ she said, a little breathlessly, and he smiled.
‘Your turn,’ Gifford agreed, and helped her.
Naked and entwined together on the bed, they kissed again. As they kissed, Gifford began to touch her, his thumbs brushing across the rigidity of her nipples, his fingers caressing the swollen globes of her breasts. She stirred restlessly in his arms.
‘Please,’ she said. ‘Please.’
He was a sensitive lover, tender and yet sure. As in business matters, he knew what he wanted. He took—and gave. When he entered her, Cass thought she might die from the spiralling emotion. But he was urging her on, and on. A throaty moan told of her passion. She had not felt such raw desire before nor experienced such primitive need…and had never known such an overwhelming relief.
The remainder of their tour fused into one glorious blur of lovemaking, though other factories were visited, facts gleaned and reports typed. On their return to London, an awareness of time fast running out made the days more precious, the intimacy more