have been plastered to go to bed with him? Did she need reminding just how many times she’d come last night? And how often she’d begged him not to stop, long after the effects of that wine had worn off?
She’d been drunk all right. Drunk on desire.
You wanted me, baby, was on the tip of his tongue.
But, of course, he didn’t say that.
‘Fine,’ he said instead. ‘We’re both to blame. That’s fair. So let’s forgive each other, forget last night ever happened and just go on as before.’
He saw her shoulders snap back against the seat and her chin jerk up in surprise. She fixed frowning eyes upon him. ‘You can really do that? Forget last night ever happened?’
Not with you sitting next to me, sweetheart. And looking good enough to eat.
Justin shrugged. ‘Yes, why not? It didn’t mean anything to either of us. You needed a man and I needed a woman. It was simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s obvious that both of us need to get out more,’ he finished up with a bitter little smile.
‘So you’re not going to sack me?’
‘Sack you! Of course not. The thought never occurred to me.’
Which was possibly only the first of a host of lies he’d be telling Rachel in future.
‘I…I was worried that you might. Isabel always says that to have an affair with the boss is the kiss of death, job-wise. The girl always ends up being given the boot.’
Not always, he wanted to say. Not when the woman in question is my beautiful blonde ex-wife. She’s been her boss’s assistant-cum-mistress for two years and they’re still together, at it like rabbits on desks and in private jets and on yacht decks.
‘But we’re not having an affair, are we?’ he reminded Rachel ruefully. ‘We made the mistake of going to bed together. Once. But we won’t be making that mistake again, will we?’
‘What? Oh, no. No, certainly not,’ she said firmly, but her eyes remained worryingly ambivalent.
Justin knew then that she was experiencing at least a little of the leftover feelings which were still haunting him.
Damn, damn and double damn! His own dark desires he could cope with. And hide. But he was a goner if she started coming on to him again.
‘One thing, though,’ he went on brusquely.
‘Yes?’
‘Your appearance…’
‘Yes?’
Justin wasn’t sure if what he was about to say would work. But it was the only way out of the bind he’d got himself into.
‘I—er—wondered if you’re intending to dress differently for work from now on. I mean…I’m only human, Rachel, and I wouldn’t want you coming into the office in clothes which I might find…distracting.’
She closed her eyes for a few seconds and pursed her pretty lips. ‘Justin…’ Her eyes opened again and her chin lifted in what could only be described as a defiant gesture. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said firmly, ‘but I refuse to go back to the way I used to look. I couldn’t. I’d rather resign than do that.’
‘There is no question of your resigning!’ he pronounced heatedly. Surprising, when this was what he’d been trying to make her do. Resign. But the moment she said she might he knew that was not what he wanted. He wanted Rachel to stay on, working for him. He wanted… God, he didn’t know what he wanted any more.
He smothered a weary sigh before it left his lungs. ‘You can wear what you like,’ he said. ‘Within reason, of course.’
‘I’ve never been the type of girl to dress provocatively at work, Justin. I simply won’t be wearing those awful black suits again, except perhaps tomorrow. I don’t have any other work clothes till I buy some more. I’ll pop out and buy a couple of brighter outfits during my lunch hour.’
‘Not too bright, I hope,’ he muttered, dreading anything which would constantly draw his eyes and rev up his hormones. ‘What about your hair?’
‘What about it? Don’t tell me it’s too bright as well.’
No, just too damned sexy the way you’re wearing it today.
‘Would you consider wearing it back up again?’ he suggested in desperation. ‘I’ve always thought that a suitable look for work.’
She sighed. ‘Very well, I’ll put my hair up.’
‘And not too much make-up.’
‘I have never worn too much make-up, either. I only have lipstick on at this moment.’
‘Really?’
He would have sworn she was wearing much more. Her skin looked so pale and clear, yet her cheeks were glowing. As for her eyes… He’d always known they were her best feature but had they always had such long lashes?
‘Don’t worry, Justin,’ she said with more than a touch of irritation in her voice. ‘I won’t waltz in to work looking like the office slut. And I promise I’ll wear underwear.’
His stomach jolted at the thought of her walking around the office without anything on underneath her clothes. What a shockingly appealing idea!
Justin suppressed a sigh and wondered how long it would be before Rachel stopped being the object of his sexual fantasies. A week? A month? A year?
Damn, but he wished he’d resisted temptation last night. And he wished he’d never suggested that bloody make-over. He wanted his old Rachel back. She didn’t stir his blood or challenge his conscience. She was sweet and kind and calming. This new Rachel was anything but calming. Even now, he wanted to say to hell with all this conciliatory chit-chat, let’s just go back to bed and stay there all day. And to hell with underwear in the office as well. I want you buck-naked under your clothes. And no bra. Never a bra. I want your beautiful breasts accessible to my touch at the flick of a button. I want to be able to lift your skirt at any time and lean you over my desk and just do it. I want…
Justin’s fantasies were really running away with him when a sudden appalling realisation reined them in. What he wanted to do with Rachel was exactly the sort of thing Mandy’s rapacious boss had been doing with her!
Justin’s blood ran cold at the thought, which was good. Very good. And very effective.
His burgeoning arousal ebbed away immediately.
That was what he’d do in future. Think of Mandy whenever these unacceptable desires struck. Pity he hadn’t thought of the bitch last night. But better later than never!
Rachel realised that her attempt at a little joke about her underwear had backfired when Justin’s back stiffened and his face took on an icily disapproving expression. Truly! It was getting difficult to remember him as the red-hot lover who’d made her do all the deliciously wicked things he’d made her do last night.
All of a sudden, he was acting like some prude!
Still, maybe that was what he basically was. A prude. Maybe he had been drunker last night than he seemed at the time.
Whatever, it was clear he deeply regretted having sex with her and was doing his level best to return their relationship to its previous professional-only status, even going so far as to want her to go back to looking much the same as she used to.
Fat chance of that, buster, she thought with private mutiny. If you want me to revert to plain-Jane mode, how about you doing something about your looks? Why don’t you stack on twenty kilos, and put a paper bag over your head for good measure? Oh, and start wearing grotty, nerdy clothes, none of those super-suave suits you wear into the office, or that coolly casual outfit you’ve got on at the moment. After all, sexual attraction—and distraction—was a two-way thing.