The Right Side of Mr Wrong. Jane Linfoot

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СКАЧАТЬ asked himself a) where that had come from and b) why the heck he’d used the word cosy. He never said cosy! It was like someone else was operating his mouth. Jeez again! He needed to stop panicking, remember this was his infallible instinct, working to push the situation to a quick conclusion. Hell, a frosty dining room was hardly conducive to the moves he had in mind, and he was aiming to get this whole thing over at break-neck speed. And there was something else he’d noticed. Sure this Shea was sexy enough, with her curves and lively nipples and splashy smiles, but he’d seen the way she flinched when he came anywhere near her, and he’d sensed a curious pent-up tension. Uptight didn’t begin to cover it. A quick tumble in the sack with a man with his taste for wild and wicked was just what was needed to send this woman running for the hills. See her off for good. Job done.

      A sudden crush in his groin suggested his libido was in definite agreement.

      * * *

      Peach cobbler, egg custard, coffee and liqueurs. All in the comfort of the boss’s private sitting room. Cosy was his way of describing it. Too damned intimate was hers.

      Shea wondered how she’d let it happen, which part of her active mind hadn’t been functioning. She could only blame the cold for her brain freeze.

      Pudding in the snug would have been beyond the limit of her professional boundaries at the best of times. But peering over maps in flickering firelight, with a hunk who set her heart banging horribly every time his arm stretched across and grazed hers? That was in the way-out-of line category. Just the memory of it was enough to make her cringe with guilt. Thank goodness she’d had the sense to make a quick exit.

      Back in the safe haven of her room, she stripped off her dress, dragged some shorts over her tights, and slipped one of the borrowed sweaters over her bra, definitely not because it smelled of raw man she assured herself, but because after an hour of wearing it, she was completely addicted to the softness and the warmth. As she pulled the pins out of her hair and dragged her curls into submission, she noticed her useless mobile on the coffee table. A phone call with her mum wasn’t going to happen tonight. No bad thing. She needed time to work out what the heck was going on here.

      It wasn’t so much what she’d been doing, but how she was reacting. It should have been completely possible to have got through this evening in a detached, professional manner. Her work constantly put her into intimate environments with men. She regularly marched in, pulled some guy’s bedroom to pieces, put it all together again, and marched right on out. She’d always assumed her ability to freeze advances before they’d even happened was because of her past hanging around her like an invisible force field. That coupled with her ‘no-nonsense’ attitude. She’d worked alongside a whole bunch of clients with less than perfect reputations and had always sailed through unscathed.

      Until now.

      Which was why she knew the fault here was completely her own.

      She’d never been remotely attracted to anyone she’d worked for before, and she’d worked for some very attractive men. But there was a world of difference between recognising that someone was hot, and the full-blown force of attraction itself. And right here it was full-blown force. And she needed to get a grip. Quickly.

      Brando Marshall might be good looking, but in every other aspect he was a total nightmare – bad tempered, rude, arrogant, treating his long-term employees with very little respect, and he obviously despised her … Quite a list. Any attraction to him was wrong, wrong, wrong, not to mention crazy. Lucky she’d got a handle on it from the start. Now all she had to do was stamp it out. Starting now.

      A sudden rap on her door jolted her to her feet, and set her heart pounding.

      ‘Shea, your mother’s on the landline for you!’ Brando’s voice rose gruffly over his knock, and sent her stomach into a cartwheel. ‘Take it in my sitting room, or my office if you prefer.’

       Damn.

      She hadn’t thought her mum would ring tonight, or that she’d be back in the lion’s den so soon, putting her new resolve to the test.

      ‘Mothers, who’d have them? Sorry about this!’ She shot him an apologetic grimace.

      If she went at break-neck pace, if she didn’t look at him, didn’t stop, there wouldn’t be time for anything misplaced or wrong. She threw open the door, whipped past an open-mouthed Brando, and bolted into his sitting room. ‘My mum must be worried that she can’t get through on my mobile and … ’

      Damn. She’d got ahead of him here. Now where should she go?

      ‘Straight on … ’ He arrived behind her, close enough to engulf her with that dangerously delicious scent she so shouldn’t be noticing, and waved an arm towards an open door on the other side of the room, beyond the sofas. She shot through it, and screeched to a halt.

       Pink shrimps! She was in his bedroom!

      Her heart did a double flip. She’d seen some imposing beds in her time but this one took the biscuit. She tried to ignore how inviting it looked.

      His voice came from behind her now ‘ … straight on to the office – the phone’s on the desk.’

      Could have been worse. She slammed up to the desk, and grasped the receiver. At least he wasn’t in the bed.

      * * *

      Brando stood in the sitting room, raking his hands through his hair, watching the minutes tick by on his Rolex. How could a phone conversation with a mother could take so long? Hell, he’d have sat down if he’d realised. He tried to remember the last time he’d spoken to his own mother, and failed. All he needed to say had been said years ago, and none of it good. No need to revisit that one. He hauled himself back to the present again, as the creaking floor suggested Shea was finally about to emerge from the bedroom.

      ‘Welcome back to the land of the living! Your mother must be a riveting conversationalist – remind me to say ‘Hi’ to her sometime when I’ve got a free day or two!’

      She was hurtling towards him with a scared-rabbit look on her face and her legs a blur.

      He hadn’t noticed the detail as she’d flashed past him earlier, but he’d caught enough lace and thigh to make his pulse pound, and he moved to catch a full-frontal view.

       Oh man!

      How the hell had he missed that? He was going to miss it again if he didn’t move, given that she was hurling herself at the door.

      ‘Not so fast.’ One swift sidestep, and he’d cut off her escape. Her sweet scent wafted around him as she pulled to a halt, narrowly avoiding landing on his toes. He felt his lips stretch into a broad, unscheduled smile, as he took in the long, curvy lace-covered legs rising to a scant inch of shorts showing below his pale grey sweater. And his lips weren’t the only thing stretching here. With an almighty effort he screwed his smile from ecstatic to sardonic, and watched her push a tangle of hair out of her eyes, grab the v-neck that was sliding way beyond an already exposed shoulder, and turn on him with a wonderfully defiant pout.

      This girl was good. Brazen even. Out for what she could get, and not scared to grab it. On principle, he despised her for the grasping audacity that had brought her here, but right now, there was something in her blatant ambition he had to admire. What he had to do next would be so much more enjoyable if he was dealing with an opponent who could СКАЧАТЬ