Your Room or Mine? (6 page)

His fingers teased beneath her skirt, pulling her panties free and stroking gently at her swollen entrance until she was writhing and desperate for him to slide them inside her. He made her wait, holding her wrists lightly together at the base of her spine, revelling in indulging her completely. When he had her twisting against him, breathing hard, his hand slick with her desire, he eased his finger deep into the silken warmth of her, adding a second finger in response to her gasp, then a third, moving slowly and steadily now, his thumb circling her most sensitive spot, rhythmically moving until he felt her climax approaching in the tension of her body and the deep moan that escaped her throat. He replaced his mouth against hers, letting the sweet hiss of her breath mingle with his as he tipped her over the edge.

He was back in control. The feeling of power deep inside him as he brought her to orgasm made him want to take this further, have her again right here and now. He made himself hold back. He would make her wait now, play this out the way
he
wanted to. And when he walked away this time it would be on his terms and he would have no need to look back. He would exhaust this misplaced physical desire for her and then his mind would stop dwelling on her and he could move on.

‘What about you?' she asked, trying to catch her breath. ‘That didn't seem fair.' He was straightening his clothes, the expression on his face like the cat that had got the cream, finished it, and gone back in for seconds.

‘Plenty of time for that,' he said.

She straightened her dress and ran a hand through her hair, wondering if what she'd just done might show on her face.

‘I need to get back to the party,' she said, moving back towards the garden, opening the gate. ‘You're such a bad influence, I'm meant to be networking.'

He followed her, hands in his pockets, relaxed smile on his face.

‘So network,' he called after her. ‘Come and work for me.'

The terrace came back into view as they walked through the greenery at the bottom of the garden. Hurricane lamps flickered on tables and people mingled in the soft light of the fire pit. The smell of woodsmoke clung to the air.

She turned back to look at him, a light frown touching her eyebrows.

‘Seriously? You mean you actually want me to redesign your garden.'

‘Among other things,' he said, catching her up in a couple of easy strides.

He leaned in and spoke softly in her ear.

‘On these terms there doesn't need to be an end to it. No ties, no strings. Just fun. Don't you think you deserve some of that?'

‘Everything has to end at some point,' she countered.

He inclined his head.

‘Of course it does. So we enjoy it while it lasts, and when one or both of us are done with it we walk away. No comeback, no painful break-up, no strings. Or maybe you think you won't be able to distance yourself like that now?'

The arrogance of him! She was mesmerised by the sex, definitely. But that hunger didn't extend to wanting to get to know him or share time with him, why would it?

The flash of danger was somehow intoxicating, she felt like she was playing a role, one much more exciting than her own sensible life. But with Joe's behaviour ever on the fringe of her consciousness, she knew that a role was all it really was.
Feelings
didn't come into it.

‘I need to rejoin the party now,' she said, then raised her voice as Arabella approached them. ‘But I'll arrange a time for us to talk about the specifications of your garden design. ‘Shall we take things from there?'

She held his gaze and she could see from the slight nod and the flash of a smile that he understood completely.

She wasn't saying no.

‘He's offered you a job? So what was an unemotional mutual benefit one night stand is now going to amount to you mixing business with pleasure. Since when was that ever a good idea?'

Izzy took a sip of her latte, leaned in towards Shauna across the coffee shop table and lowered her voice.

‘I don't see it that way. It's a one-off job, four or five weeks at the most. I'm charging him full-whack, not mates-rates. And there's no tacit agreement that we sleep together. There was just this undertone in the conversation that made it clear: if it happens, it happens. What might go on between the two of us has nothing to do with work.'

‘You're deluded,' Shauna said. ‘The job is his way of keeping you exactly where he wants you.'

‘For the hundredth time, this is about what
I
want, not what
he
wants. I get an easy gig one-off job that's well-paid and a no-strings fling until I get bored with it. What's not to like?'

‘Watch my lips,' Shauna pointed to her own peach-glossed pout and spoke slowly and clearly. ‘He no longer qualifies for the no-strings-successful-fling rule.' She held up her hands and shook her head as if she was disengaging from the whole thing. ‘It will all end in tears. Almost certainly yours.'

Izzy tried and failed to stop the automatic here-we-go roll of her eyes.

‘What an absolute load of crap!' she said. ‘The no-strings-brilliant-fling or whatever-you-bloody-call-it rule is just some womens' magazine nonsense. I am in total control of my own life, my own decisions and my own emotions. If I want to extend the fun a bit, where the hell is the harm? Now that I know he's single and neither of us wants anything serious, who the hell is going to get hurt in a scenario like that?'

‘But he's offered you a job, right?'

‘Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything.'

Shauna threw exasperated hands up.

‘You've changed the whole dynamic. You can't just mess about with the rules to fit whatever suits you. This is different. At the beginning it really was a true no-strings fling – one night, no surnames, no contact details. You
know
him now. There's an obligation involved – you have an obligation to him. Which means he is in control. When you pare it right down, what you're doing now is banging your boss.'

Izzy stared at her, speechless for a moment. Then her temper loosened her tongue and her opinion took over.

‘He is NOT my boss! I am self-employed and in any case the work agreement between us is beside the point.'

‘It's his way of keeping tabs on you without giving up anything in return, can't you see that? Any normal, decent bloke would have asked you out to dinner.'

‘You're overlooking the fact that a dinner date with a load of poncy small talk is my idea of hell right now. I have absolutely no desire to get involved with anyone again anytime soon, not after Joe. What I want is to concentrate on building up the business and having fun. You're seeing this whole thing as being driven by Oliver and you're wrong. I'm in charge here. And with him I can I enjoy some fantastic sex without having the emotional dump. What's not to like?'

‘I'm just trying to look out for you,' Shauna said quietly.

Izzy curbed her temper and lowered her voice.

‘I know you are,' she said. ‘And you needn't worry. The only way this is going to move forward is on my terms. I'm in total control. No emotional investment involved.'

She sounded utterly convincing. To Shauna and to herself.

****

Oliver watched as Izzy walked the perimeter of his garden, such as it was, notebook in hand, stopping occasionally to write something down. She looked very different to the smartly dressed young woman from the garden party, but there was something undeniably sexy about the scruffy jeans and work boots she was wearing with her hair tied loosely at the back of her neck, hiding the long legs and the smooth curves underneath. She looked as if she wouldn't give a toss about getting dirty, about her appearance.

The way she responded to him was beyond anything he'd known before, that lack of inhibition, her determination to experience every moment to its full. He wasn't ready to drop that yet, and when he did it would be him that dropped it, not her. Offering her this job was the perfect way of keeping her within easy reach while not having to risk any part of himself. On a sliding scale of ties it was way down below dating or friendship. A work contract had a professional detached quality that was comforting.

Plus, the garden really did need sorting out. And her work was inspired.

She was here now on his terms and based on their last meeting she would be expecting him to make some kind of move. Which was exactly why he would keep her hanging. Not that he wasn't sorely tempted, good thing in fact that he'd deliberately arranged to see her in a very tight window with work commitments on either side. However much he might want to start the add-on part of their contract, there was no way he could do that today. Let her wonder what his game was.

His staring obviously didn't escape her.

‘A bit of confidence wouldn't go amiss,' she said. ‘You've hardly said anything so far, you don't exactly seem excited by my ideas. You haven't handed your garden renovation over to Laurel and Hardy, you know. I do know exactly what I'm doing.'

He shook his head as if to clear it.

‘Sorry. I'm perfectly satisfied that you're more than capable of handling the work. I just have a lot on my mind.'

What it might feel like to peel those work clothes off her.

‘Work?'

‘Always,' he said, glancing at his watch. ‘I have a pressing appointment, so let's wrap this up. You can email my secretary the final details of your specification and quote. Potential start date?

‘Two weeks' time,' she said. ‘I have to wrap up my current job and I've got scheduled maintenance contracts to keep up for my ongoing clients.'

‘Fine,' he said. ‘In that case I'll be away when the work starts.

He pressed a button on his smartphone and held it in front of them. An overstuffed work schedule appeared.

Reading upside down as he clicked through the days, Izzy could see practically every day was taken up with meetings or conferences.

‘Back on the seventeenth after a series of meetings in Manchester,' he said. ‘So I'll be away when you get started for a day or two. When I'm around I work quite demanding hours, so I'll have my secretary supply you with a set of keys for the house, then you can come and go as you need. I assume you don't have a problem working unsupervised?'

She shook her head faintly. All about work. Whatever she'd expected, it wasn't this. No reference to anything else going on between them. Not that it was a problem, she could do professional perfectly well.

‘Good. If you need to ask me something you can call my secretary.'

She noticed he didn't offer her his private mobile number or suggest she drop him a quick text.

‘She'll pass a message on and I'll get back to you in due course but unless it's something major I'd prefer not to be disturbed. Just use your own judgement, you obviously know a damn sight more about gardens than I do.'

‘Define something major,' she said immediately, she'd been caught out before with picky clients.

He sighed.

‘Big remodelling changes that we haven't discussed today, I guess. I wouldn't be ecstatic if I came home to find you'd turned my driveway into a lawn, for example. Try not to piss off the neighbours, I can do without the grief, and I like privacy so think high fences and dense foliage. Don't go chopping down any trees without the nod from me first.'

‘Something on that kind of scale would always be agreed with you at the planning stage,' she said. ‘You don't need to worry, I understand exactly what you want.'

‘Do you?' he said, holding her gaze with a look in his eyes that spoke of a whole different agenda.

Her heart upped the beat and she licked her suddenly-dry lips.

‘Yes,' she said, returning his gaze as steadily as she could. Not easy with the distraction of major stomach flutters. The anticipation that he might reach for her at any moment seemed to have focused all her senses on his every move. Both their encounters so far had been so exciting that she couldn't help wondering how it might be next time. The thought scrambled her mind when she tried to concentrate on making notes.

He turned off the diary listing.

‘You need to be careful you don't burn out,' she said.

He glanced at her and she nodded at his phone as he pocketed it.

‘That diary is stuffed beyond all reason. Doesn't look like you ever take a day off.'

He smiled a little.

‘I don't. Even if I'm home at the weekend there's always case files to review, stuff to be done. It's the way I like to work.'

He began to walk back to the house. She shut her notebook and followed him, picking her way over loose rubble and making a mental note to order in a skip and topsoil. There was a lot of surface rubbish to clear.

‘Why put so much pressure on yourself?' she said. ‘I mean, you've just spent a fortune renovating this house and now you're having the garden done. From the outside it looks like you've already made it.'

He stopped walking.

‘I'll never make it, Izzy,' he said. ‘I could work 24-7 for the rest of my life and I don't think I'd ever feel like that.'

For some reason the way he used her first name made her stomach give a tiny skip. His answer puzzled her.

‘I don't understand. It's not like you've got to graft all the hours God sends to make ends meet. A top City lawyer? You probably make more in a month than I do in a year.'

He laughed.

‘And I don't even have to wield a spade.'

She smiled back.

‘I'm serious. What have you got to prove that won't let you take the occasional weekend off?'

He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if drafting a suitable answer in his head.

‘It all comes down to drive, I guess,' he said. ‘You can never really be certain of success,' he said. ‘You're as good as your last case and things can turn around in a heartbeat. When you take your eye off the ball, that's when things slide.'

‘There's nothing wrong with having a good work ethic,' she said. ‘I mean the hours I've put in trying to build up some kind of paying business. It's just important to have a life outside of work too.'

‘As long as it doesn't detract from work, I agree.'

She shook her head.

‘All work and no play,' she said.

‘I play,' he said. ‘When it works for me. When play is all it is.'

The way he was looking at her, the undertone in the hazel eyes, made her heart beat up the pace as if she'd just run a few circuits of the garden. She braced herself for him to make a move, drew in a breath, and then just as quickly he snapped his gaze away and turned towards the side gate and the front of the house.

‘I have to get back to work,' he said. ‘Send over your spec and the contract details and I'll see you in a couple of weeks.'

She stared after him, mind whirling. He hadn't even touched her, not even to shake her hand. Her nerves were tingling, her body over-sensitised as anticipation dissolved away and worst of all, disappointment stabbed her sharply in the ribs. Definitely not allowed, disappointment would mean she actually cared what happened between them. She shoved the thought away.

Maybe a garden renovation was all he wanted after all.