Authors: Sally Clements
When Annie
gave him the tea, he’d had to bite down on his lip to stop reaching for her.
The slightest touch of her body would have been enough to divert him from his
goal and he hadn’t been able to risk it. Not with Roxie phoning back any
minute. Now, Annie lay alone next door, and he longed to lie there with her. He
wanted to whisper how much he still wanted her, cover her skin with his hands,
and his lips. Watch her dimple dent her cheek as her body responded to his
caresses. Instead, he had no option but to review all the storyboards and talk
through a potential solution with his team. Jason Mecredi was waiting for his
call.
The television
had gone on in the bedroom hours before. He’d dragged himself away long enough
to stick his head around the door for a moment between calls, and found Annie
asleep. She lay diagonally across the bed, the sheet flung back to reveal acres
of creamy leg.
He’d tucked
the sheet around her, and stroked the glorious hair fanned out behind her
sleeping face. He wanted to climb into bed with her and kiss her awake, press
his naked body against hers. A wave of yearning tightened his body into painful
awareness.
Business had
always come first. It had been his driving force for years. Now, for the life
of him, he wished he could leave it to someone else. That couldn’t happen. The
Mecredi Cars contract was too important. It wasn’t just his livelihood on the
line, it was his whole company’s future that was at stake. People depended on
him; he couldn’t disappoint them. Tomorrow he had a busy day with Bateau Rouge;
he wouldn’t have time to deal with Mecredi Cars as well. He cursed under his
breath, and crept out, closing the door softly behind him.
Alone in the
sitting room again, the enormity of the task ahead was daunting. Mecredi Cars
were being completely irrational and dictatorial, insisting that he present a
new strategy to them in person. He pushed a hand through his hair, and called
room service, ordering a pot of strong coffee. Forcing thoughts of Annie away,
he started to work. It seemed impossible, but he had to block her out of his
thoughts for a few hours. His company depended on it.
****
Annie woke
with warm fingers stretched over the soft skin of her stomach. Firm thighs
curved around hers. She could feel the deep regular expansion of Jack’s chest
against her back. She snuggled closer, unable to hold back a little satisfied
moan. His arm tightened in response. He was definitely awake and obviously
enjoying the sensation of holding her too. Morning whiskers nuzzled her neck
and she wriggled in delight.
“What time is
it?” Jack’s voice was deliciously deep and sleepy. They hadn’t pulled the
curtains last night. Sunlight flowed into the room. Annie reached for her
watch.
“Nine-thirty.”
“Damn.” With
one smooth movement, his hand disappeared. He pulled himself up in the bed. She
turned around, scooting up to rest her back against the headboard next to him.
“All I want to
do is stay here, and make love to you again.” He brushed his lips against hers
briefly. “But today will be a hell of a day. We need to get some breakfast and
get on with it.” He grinned at her ruefully. “Not much of a night, was it? I’m
sorry, honey.”
“I thought
last night was pretty spectacular, actually.” She reached out to stroke his
chin, his stubble rough against her fingertips. “Up until the phone call.”
She’d lain awake waiting for him until sleep finally triumphed. He must have
crept into bed in the early hours.
“There’s a
problem with a client.” He ran his hand through his hair.
He looks
even better this morning.
Her fingers trailed over his naked chest.
Why
does bed-head look so delicious on a man?
“I’m going to
have to go back to the States sooner than expected.”
Their time
together was ending before it had really begun. She flattened her palm against
his chest, feeling his heart beat steady and strong.
“What about
your boat?”
What about us?
But there was no us, was there? Not really.
“I’m only
going back for a few days. I have to sort out a few things. I thought maybe you
might come with me.”
There were so
many things to do. The matchmaking festival was only half way through, and
there was the question of the Chocolate Oscars. If she won, there would be a
presentation. It would be impossible to get away.
“The festival
is on until the end of next week. There’s a party at the end of it.”
“We’d be back
in time.” He tilted her mouth up towards him, staring at her lips with a
determined fascination. Her heartbeat thumped faster.
“I want you to
come to the States with me. I need you to. Say you will.” He kissed her so
thoroughly she almost forgot the question.
“I don’t know.
There’s the competition…”
“Oh yeah, the
competition.” He pulled back. “I forgot about the competition.”
“Well, I
can’t,” she said firmly. “I will find out today if I’ve won it, and if I have,
there’s the presentation…” Her voice trailed off. His eyes clouded. Even though
his arm was stroking her absently, his mind was somewhere else. He must be
thinking of New York.
“We’ll talk
about it later. Let’s have a shower. I want to get down and get some
breakfast.”
“Have we time
to go out for it? I want to take you somewhere.” She climbed out of bed, and
dressed in the fluffy white robe.
“That
depends.” The devilish light was back in his eyes. He tugged her closer with
the belt of her robe. “I need to make sure I’ve washed every inch of you,
thoroughly.”
He bit her
neck gently then led her unresistingly in the direction of the shower, his
wicked smile letting her know she would come out of the shower very, very
clean.
Stephen’s
Green was abuzz with crowds of people, all of them going the opposite direction.
Like minnows swimming through a determined school of fish, they meandered down
Grafton Street. Annie clutched Jack’s hand tightly.
“It’s just
down here.” The street was closed to cars. Flower sellers had set up stands on
the sidewalk. They avoided the colorful stands of flowers set out before the
bustling crowds by the flower sellers who had a regular pitch on the street.
Vibrant lilies in pink and white jostled with stately delphiniums. Every shade
of rose and carnation nestled in bright green asparagus fern, lightened by
sprays of gypsophila, like a portable rainbow.
“Here.” She
stopped outside a building covered with an ornate display of tiles. “If you’re
having breakfast in Dublin, you have to have it in Bewleys.” The smell of
freshly roasted coffee was so enticing Annie could almost taste it when they
walked up the stairs towards the James Joyce Room. She smiled with
satisfaction. Her favorite leather sofa near the open window was vacant.
Perfect.
The sounds of
people drifted up from the street below, a myriad of different languages in the
buzz of sound. A familiar melody layered with strumming guitar part of the
city’s symphony. An enthusiastic street performer was trying his best, but
failing miserably to reproduce one of Leonard Cohen’s classics.
“I love to
come here when I’m working on a new flavor. The sounds and sights inspire me.
As I drink coffee I imagine what flavors I’d love to be swirling around in my
mouth.” It was Annie’s secret. Her way of tapping into her creative side. Part
of her she normally kept hidden, just for herself.
“All the
different cultures meld to create the new Dublin, and yet the old Dublin is
still here. I can imagine generations of people sitting here. Living in the
Georgian buildings, walking in St. Stephen’s Green.” She grinned and took a
long swallow of her coffee. “I’m getting lyrical, I need some food.”
“Obviously.” He
passed her the basket of pastries. “You could be inspired somewhere else, you
know. It doesn’t have to be Dublin.”
Her phone rang
in the bottom of her bag. She rooted frantically through the detritus to find
it, glancing at the display quickly before opening it.
“Anne Devine.”
This was it. She gripped the phone so tight her fingers hurt. A balloon of
sunlight burst inside her chest. She put her coffee down with a shaky hand.
“That’s
fantastic, I can’t believe it!” The caller was still speaking, more details.
“When’s the
presentation? Okay, ‘till Friday night then. Thank you.” She closed the phone.
“I’m won it
Jack, I won the competition!” Elation danced through her.
****
The café was
full of people, but Jack was only aware of Annie. His hand cupped the side of
her face and she leaned in to him eagerly, her mouth opening under his
instantly. He deepened the kiss and pulled her closer. A potent spell wove
itself around him all over again, the urge to be alone with her growing to an
almost unbearable pitch.
Reluctantly,
he pulled back. Her lips were pink from his attentions; a soft flush suffused
her features. Her chest underneath her soft sweater rose and fell.
“Congratulations.
We should celebrate later.”
She blushed,
and pushed her hair away from her face with shaking fingers.
“I wish we had
time to celebrate now.” Her gaze flickered from his mouth to his eyes, in
perfect accord. She found the idea of celebrating arousing too. He stroked her
arm, then clasped her fingers in his, holding on tightly.
“I’d better
get back to the flat. I can’t call home from here. I’ll be on for hours. Mum
and Da will want to know every detail.” She shoved her phone back into her bag.
“I guess you have to get ready for your meeting too.”
“I should have
it all tied up in a couple of hours,” he said. “Then we can celebrate in
style.”
“Okay. Sounds
good.” They paid and left the café. He reached for her hand again, rubbing his
fingers against hers, marveling at the electricity sparking between them.
“I’ll give you
a lift home on the way to my meeting.” It would be a chance for a few more
minutes together. Although God knows how he could resist touching her again
when they were back in the hotel room. He strode towards the hotel’s entrance,
but she held back.
“No, I’ve a
couple of things to do before I go back to Durna.” She pulled him down to her.
“If I go upstairs with you now I might get distracted.”
“You
definitely would get distracted,” he muttered against her mouth, amazed at his
body’s instant reaction to her nearness. “Then neither of us would get anything
done.”
“Later.”
“Okay.” He
lowered his head to kiss her passionately, not caring about the crowds of
people swarming past. He was too busy reveling in the softness of her mouth,
and the feeling of her hand on him.
I don’t
want you to go.
He released
her reluctantly. Fought the urge to pull her back into his arms. She took a
step away and pressed four fingers to her lips, blowing him a kiss before
walking away. She turned and glanced back a moment before she turned down
Grafton Street. A powerful bolt of something unfamiliar struck him when their
eyes connected. She smiled, and he stopped breathing.
Venus
Devine, Goddess of love.
She’d stolen underneath the love-proof vest
covering his heart. Losing her, if only for a few hours, would be torture. He
raised a hand in farewell, and helplessly watched her vanish into the crowd.
****
Winning the
worldwide Bateau Rouge contract would be a coup for whatever company landed it,
and Jack and his team had spent months preparing their pitch. Every day Jack
had kept a diary carefully evaluating the yacht’s strengths and weaknesses.
He’d also made a video diary, and had spent the days in Durna editing it to
include in his presentation.
Now, in the
Bateau Rouge boardroom he glanced around the table of directors who would
decide if his small company would be the one to win the lucrative contract. The
rapt faces of the board were glued to his onscreen presentation as he talked
them through the first storm he’d faced. When he’d finished there was an
audible buzz of excited comment from the group.
“I needed to
do the voyage to get a proper feel for the yacht,” he said. “I don’t believe in
selling something purely on the way it looks. A yacht is more than appearance.
The relationship between yacht and sailor is an intimate one. I needed to
capture the Bateau Rouge’s essence. To feel how she handles, the way she reacts
to me. The way we would work together.”
There were
many parallels in the way he and Annie worked. Each tried to tie down the
indefinable essence that transcended the superficial.
“Only then,
did I feel I knew the yacht properly. I understood why the discerning sailor
would choose to invest in your product, rather than someone else’s. With that
knowledge, I knew how to promote it. A friend of mine once told me the Bateau
Rouge is what dreams are made of.”
He nodded
towards an assistant who was in charge of dimming the lights in the boardroom.
“Gentlemen, let me show you what we were thinking of in the way of a campaign.”
He delivered the presentation with practiced ease. The faces around the table
altered from guarded to excited. A feeling of rightness swelled his chest. It
was all going to plan. The presentation was working its magic. He’d done this
often enough to know the contract was theirs, so where was the expected feeling
of elation?
Moments later,
he accepted thanks and shook hands with the men as they filed out. One man
remained. Bateau Rouge’s Managing Director.
“That was an
excellent presentation, Jack.” Roger MacDonald was pleased. “I think I can
speak for all of us when I say we were all very impressed with your vision for
our company. I’d like to thank you for taking the time to come and present it
to us.”
“Delighted to,
Roger.”
“I’ll have to
consult with the others, but I’ll phone you in an hour and let you know.” His
voice lowered conspiratorially, “I can’t pre-empt the decision, but…”