her…
‘Was that a challenge?’
Her tone was clipped and he winced at the supercilious note it held. It was unheard of for Natalie to speak to anyone that way. Despite her background, she had never put on airs and graces and had always treated everyone in the same friendly fashion. He must have really upset her to arouse such a response and it didn’t make him feel good to know that. He had to console himself with the thought that he was doing this for her own benefit.
‘If you prefer to see it as a challenge, it’s fine by me.’
‘And if I accept, what are you going to do in return?’
She walked around the desk and sat down on one of the low leather sofas in front of the window. Rafferty felt a wave of heat shoot through him as he watched her settle herself comfortably against the cushions. She was wearing a pale grey suit which he knew without needing to see the label must have come from some exclusive designer’s collection. The jacket fitted her like a glove, moulding her full breasts and offering a tantalising glimpse of cleavage when she bent forward to help herself to a grape from the fruit bowl on the coffee-table. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing anything under the jacket apart from a bra and his body responded in time-honoured fashion to the knowledge.
‘Why should I need to do anything?’ he countered, hoping she couldn’t tell what was happening to him.
‘Because it’s only fair, of course.’
She popped the grape into her mouth and crossed her legs. It was done with the utmost decorum but he had to stifle a groan when he heard the whisper of silk. Although most women didn’t bother wearing stockings nowadays, Natalie had always preferred to wear them. In fact, they’d enjoyed many a happy hour divesting her of them…
‘If I accept your challenge, you should accept mine. Unless you’re too scared, of course.’
That got his immediate attention. Rafferty blanked out the delicious images that had been playing inside his head and stared at her. ‘I’m not scared, Natalie. If the only way to make you see sense is by accepting your challenge, I’ll do it.’
‘Good. That’s what I hoped you’d say.’
She stood up and came towards him, stopping so close that he could feel the warmth of her body all down the length of his. Trying to control his rioting libido at that point was a waste of time so he gave up. If she was deliberately trying to torment him, she was making a damn good job of it, he thought ruefully.
‘I’ll expect you tonight at six. Don’t be late. It really isn’t good form to arrive after the main guest. Oh, and you’ll need a dinner jacket, too. I’d hate you to feel embarrassed by not being properly dressed.’
She swished past him before he could say anything, shot back the bolt and opened the door. A couple of burly security guards rushed into the room and grasped him by the arms. Rafferty tried to shake them off but soon realised that he was wasting his time. Anyway, he’d be damned if he’d give her the satisfaction of watching him struggle.
‘Escort Dr Rafferty from the building and inform the staff on Reception that he isn’t to be admitted again today.’ She turned to Janet, who had followed the men into the room. ‘Dr Rafferty will need a pass so can you make all the necessary arrangements, please? I’ll sign the authorisation forms myself.’
‘A pass?’ the secretary repeated uncertainly, glancing at him.
Rafferty really couldn’t blame her for being confused, because he was feeling a bit that way himself. He dug in his heels as the men tried to hustle him out of the room.
‘What the hell is going on, Natalie? Why are you ordering a pass for me when you’re having me thrown out?’
‘Because you can’t just come in here and throw your weight around. It really isn’t on, Rafferty, and I’m not prepared to put up with it.’ She smiled calmly at him as she went and sat down behind her desk. ‘However, a pass is essential if you’re to complete the challenge I’ve set you.’
‘What challenge?’ he demanded as the men hauled him through the open door. ‘Natalie…!’
‘That you spend a month in my world and see how well you cope.’
‘LADIES and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce our guest of honour this evening.’
Polite applause rippled around the room as the man stepped up to the podium. Natalie glanced at Rafferty and bit back a chuckle when she saw the expression of utter boredom on his face. It was the local business association’s annual dinner, a lengthy affair which normally she avoided attending. She hadn’t been planning on going that night either, until Rafferty had bulldozed his way into her office and she’d realised it would be the perfect way to pay him back. If he had all those preconceived ideas about how she’d been spending her time recently, why disabuse him?
He must have sensed she was watching him because he suddenly turned and her heart missed a beat when she saw the awareness in his eyes. She’d pulled out all the stops that night and knew she looked her best. The red gown she was wearing was one of her favourites, although she’d never worn it before when she’d been out with Rafferty. Most of the time they’d spent together had been at some disaster spot or other and there’d been few opportunities there to dress up. It struck her all of a sudden just how little time they’d spent doing the normal things a couple usually did together. Their relationship had revolved around their work and they’d just snatched the odd hour as and when they could.
Would things have turned out differently if they’d had more time to themselves? she wondered. Everyone was under a lot of pressure when they were away on a mission. Consequently emotions ran high, and it could explain why they’d never been able to reach a compromise.
‘How much longer do we have to stay here?’ he demanded, leaning over so that he could whisper the question in her ear.
‘It’s not the done thing to leave before the main guest has finished speaking,’ she informed him tersely. She’d always believed that their failure to agree had been because of his stubbornness and it was worrying to wonder if she’d been wrong to hold him solely responsible when there might have been other factors involved.
‘It will be midnight at this rate before he runs out of steam,’ Rafferty declared in disgust. ‘Who on earth is interested in the profit and loss ratios that can be achieved in various European countries?’
‘A lot of people. You might believe that making a profit is the devil’s work but your views aren’t shared by the majority of people here tonight.’
‘I never said it was wrong to make a profit,’ he denied, frowning.
‘No? It certainly sounded like it to me earlier today.’
She smiled sweetly at him then turned her attention to the speaker but it was difficult to concentrate when her mind kept returning to the thought that she might have been wrong to blame Rafferty for their problems. It was a relief when the speech ended and everyone started talking. Natalie knew most of the people on their table because she’d met them when she’d acted as hostess for her father. Richard Palmer was a renowned host and his cocktail parties were always well attended.
The man on her right asked her how her father was so she turned to speak to him, aware that Rafferty was talking to the woman seated next to him. She could just catch snippets of their conversation, something about an opera which had been a sell-out. Someone else joined in, adding their comments on the production, until the whole table ended up discussing its merits. Natalie smiled when a woman seated opposite her asked if she’d seen it.
‘I’ve not had time, I’m afraid. I’ve been too busy trying to find my way around Palmer’s so I’ve not been to the theatre for ages.’
The