The End of Faking It. Natalie Anderson

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      ‘Carter heads up Dodds WD in Melbourne. I asked him to come to Sydney for a couple of weeks. I need his help.’

      ‘What for?’

      Carter knew he was still standing too close but too bad. In fact he put both hands back on either side of her. That way she couldn’t readily escape. He was certain she would, so he made sure she couldn’t—by holding a position hat was only a few inches away from intimate.

      He was having a time shutting up the temptation whispering that he should lose those few inches. He pushed his hands hard on the cool metal and watched as she pressed the phone closer to her ear and turned her head away from him.

      The colour ran under her skin like an incoming tide and Carter couldn’t contain his amusement. Mason was his grandfather’s best friend. He’d seen him every few months all his life and he was on the old boy’s speed-dial to prove it. This was the first time Mason had asked him for help—and help he would. But just this moment?

      Distraction. Capital D.

      ‘Of course.’ Penny had turned her head even further away, clearly hoping he wouldn’t hear whatever it was that Mason was saying.

      Carter didn’t give a damn what the old guy said right now. He was too lost in looking at her. She had the biggest, darkest eyes he’d ever seen. They drew him in and sucked him under—like sparkling pools that turned out to be dangerously deep, the kind of eyes that you could stare into endlessly—and he was. Peripherally, bits of his body were absorbing the detail of hers and the back of his brain drew rapid conclusions.

      A skirt that short, a shirt that sexy, a body that honed, lips that slicked …

      This woman knew how attractive she was, and she emphasised all her best assets. Everything about her was polished to pure, sensual perfection. She was no shy, shrinking secretary. She was a siren. And every basic cell in Carter’s body wanted to answer her summons. So, so badly.

      ‘Hello?’

      She was holding the phone out to him and he’d been too busy gawping to notice. He grabbed it and started talking.

      ‘Hi, Mason, sorry to bother you so late.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s great you’re onto it so quickly. I can’t thank you enough.’

      ‘So Penny’s your temp PA?’ Carter kept looking at her, still struggling to believe that conservative, eighty-year-old Mason had ever hired such a blatant sex bomb. ‘She’s working late.’

      ‘She always works late.’ Mason sounded pleased. ‘She’s an angel. I get in every morning and everything is so organised, she makes it a breeze.’

      An angel? Carter’s suspicions sharpened again. Penny wouldn’t be the first attractive young woman to turn an older man’s head. Carter knew exactly how easy it was for an avaricious, ambitious female to use her beauty to dazzle a fool old enough to know better. He’d watched not one, but two do that to his dad. Despite her outraged reaction, who was to say that wasn’t what was happening here? ‘How long has she been with you?’ He couldn’t not ask.

      There was a silence. ‘Since after the problem started.’ Mason’s voice turned arctic. ‘I thought I’d made this clear already.’

      Yeah. Mason had mentioned his fabulous PA more than once—but not her hotter-than-Venus factor. Not mentioning that didn’t seem natural.

      ‘You tell her what’s going on,’ Mason said sharply. ‘I should have already. Carter, she’s not who you’re looking for.’

      Carter stared at the temptation personified before him. Her mouth was as glossy and red ripe as a Morello cherry—and he wanted a taste. That was the real problem. Hell, he was off on a tangent before he’d even started. He owed Mason better than this. ‘You’re right,’ he said brusquely. ‘She’s not.’

      Penny watched him pocket the phone. He didn’t seem to be any happier about the situation—offered no laughter or light apology. If anything he looked as angry as he had when he’d first interrogated her. What was he here to do exactly? Mason hadn’t elaborated, just told her to help him if he asked her to. They hadn’t advertised a new job—she was the one who placed the ads so she’d know. So this was cronyism, some old boys’ school network thing. But he was hardly a fresh-faced graduate getting his first contract courtesy of his father. ‘You know Mason personally,’ she said baldly, annoyed by the fact—annoyed by him—and his attractiveness.

      ‘Have done for years.’ He nodded.

      Yeah, that was why the job, whatever it was, hadn’t been advertised. Mason had probably made something up for him to do. Still smarting from his gold-digger slur, she let her inner bitch out to taunt. ‘You don’t look like you have to pull favours to get a job.’

      ‘Don’t I?’ he answered too softly. ‘How would you know? Is that what you do?’ He leaned closer and whispered low, as if they were intimate. ‘What kind of favours do you pull to score a job, Penny?’

      Okay, she’d crossed the line a little, but he’d just leapt it. ‘What sort of favours do you think I pull?’ she fired back before thinking.

      His eyes flashed, the pupils expanding so fast the piercing colours became the thinnest of circles around the burgeoning black. Riveted, she watched the myriad greens and blues narrow out. He really did have it—perfect symmetry, angular jawbones and hair that just begged to be ruffled and then gripped tight.

      The palms of her hands tingled, heated. Only it wasn’t just his hair she imagined pulling close, no, now she was pulling on hot, silky hard skin, stroking it faster and faster and—OMG where had that come from?

      She gulped back the insanity. She couldn’t be thinking that. She looked down and clamped her mouth shut, swallowing both literally and mentally, overly aware her breathing had quickened to audible—basically to panting. Again.

      Oh, please don’t let him know what she’d been thinking. She glanced back up at him. All the blue had gone from his irises leaving nothing but thin rings of green fire around those huge, black pupils. Dusky red tinged his cheekbones. She could relate. Blood was firing all round her body, pinking up all sorts of parts—her face included. But at least he wasn’t panting like some dog in heat, which she, unfortunately, was.

      He said nothing, she said nothing. But she could see it shimmering in the air between them—razor-sharp attraction. Urges at their most basic. Urges almost uncontrollable.

      ‘There’s a problem in the accounts—some-one in the company is skimming,’ he suddenly said roughly, jerking his head up.

       ‘What?’

      ‘I’m here to check through all the files and find out who and how.’

      Someone was stealing? And Carter was here to catch him? Mason had said he headed up some company in Melbourne, so was he some kind of CEO/forensic accountant or something?

      Actually that didn’t seem to fit. Not when he wore jeans and tousled hair so well. He looked as if he had too much street cred to be a number cruncher.

      ‘The only people who’ll know the real reason I’m here are you, Mason СКАЧАТЬ