She’d told him the reason she couldn’t be with him. But she hadn’t realised the extent of her own vulnerability to him. Within two seconds of his touch she’d been his. Uncaring about how little she knew about him, uncaring of the fact that they had been in a public area and could have been caught at any moment. Almost had been, in fact. If he hadn’t acted they would have been. He’d been far more grounded than her and that terrified her.
He’d said she’d asked him to touch her and she knew he was right. In her mind she’d been begging and he’d read it. What a mistake. They’d discovered her weakness together. That he just had to touch her and all her resistance melted. She was not going to risk ruining her career a second time. She wanted to end this contract on a high, not a messy low. But even more scary was the depth of her reaction to him. It didn’t seem normal. This wasn’t your average case of the hots. She knew that if she gave into it she would be on the road for major heartache. A distraction for him seemed to be something more for her and she was too afraid to analyse exactly what.
So she reverted to ice-princess mode again, unable to meet his eyes for fear of what she might see there or, worse, what she might give away. Marnie and James were too busy to notice. And, perhaps, so was Rory.
Suppressing a sigh, she went to find Gina for five minutes’ light relief. She stole a look as she passed him on the way out and caught him staring at her with an expression of such want that she felt herself blush all over. Her eyes darted back to the door ahead. Not too busy.
Gina, happy to hang for a moment, gave her a concerned look. ‘Hey, come on, they’re having drinks down the pub tonight. One of the other projects has wrapped. Come and have a few and relax.’
Lissa opened her mouth to refuse and suddenly thought better of it. ‘Good idea.’ These last few days she’d been working so hard she had been feeling almost reclusive. She was supposed to be making the most of her last few weeks—she should be out and about every night instead of lying awake for hours at a stretch dreaming about a guy she shouldn’t and couldn’t have.
A night out with Gina and the gang would be a great way of relaxing. Rory and the others should be working late again, so no fear of having to see even more of him.
‘Good, you’re looking too pale and miserable. You need a good night out.’
Lissa attempted a grin back, forcing levity into her voice. ‘You know, you’re absolutely right.’
A few drinks, get the whole Rory thing into perspective.
Rory knew the minute the door opened that she was back. He could tell her soft step on the carpet, could smell the freshness that was uniquely her. Clenching his jaw, he welded himself to the spot, refusing to turn around and take in the view as he really wanted.
He looked across at James, who was openly appraising Lissa. Irritation flared again. He didn’t like the way James looked at Lissa, uncomfortably aware that it was exactly how he looked at her himself—with lust. But James, he knew, was only about lust, whereas increasingly he wanted to understand the whole package. Something about her got to him, and made him want her more than he’d wanted any woman.
Next thing he knew she was approaching him waving a piece of paper.
‘Rory, I need you to sign my timesheet for last week. I need to fax it in to the agency this afternoon to be sure I get paid. I forgot to get you to do it on Friday and I’ve only just remembered.’
Well, he knew exactly why that was. Friday. The stairs. He looked up into her face. She was staring at the paper she’d laid on the desk next to him. Not giving anything away. She hadn’t since those stolen moments in the stairwell, moments that he’d been replaying twenty-four seven ever since. He cursed the interruption, desperately dreaming up ways in which he could try it again. The desire to touch her so overwhelmed him, it threatened his work and he hated that. A large part of him hated the effect she had on him.
No way was he seriously drawn to her, was he? Not someone who, frankly, could be more than a little stroppy. Well, yes. Besides, he had a feeling the stroppiness was related to the battle to keep him at a distance. Once they were over that, he was more than aware of the ways she would be able to make up for it. She was fun. He saw the amusement, the humour, all too often in her expression. Why couldn’t they have a couple of months’ excitement?
Realising he’d been staring at her for far too long and that as a result her face now glowed rosily, he jerked his attention from her to the page before him. He gave it a perfunctory scan before adding his signature to the bottom line. Then something caught his eye.
‘Your full name is Lisette?’ He didn’t exactly know hundreds, but he’d never come across a New Zealander with a French-sounding name before.
‘My father was French Canadian.’
He digested that for a moment. ‘Was?’
She nodded and he saw the brightness in her face dim.
‘Did you learn French?’
‘No. Actually he died before I was born.’ The shadows in her eyes grew darker. The golden flecks faded in brilliance.
‘That must have been hard on your mother.’
‘It was. But she was a survivor.’
‘Was?’ His heart thumped a little harder. He didn’t mean to pry, but he knew he was getting information that was vital. Clues that might help him understand the faint sense of mystery about her. Some fact that might help him figure out why she was so reluctant to follow what he knew she wanted. What his heart and body wanted so much.
‘Was.’ She snatched the paper up and walked away from him. He quietly watched her as she sat back down in her chair, avoiding looking anywhere in particular, especially at him.
An orphan. Fatherless from birth and motherless since—when? The questions nearly burst forth, but her shuttered expression told him he’d got as far as he was going to—for today anyway.
He went back to the figures on the screen in front of him and for the first time in his career wished his work away. Wanted the project to be over so he could have the time to focus on her. Disgusted, he jabbed at the keyboard. What on earth had come over him? He’d said quite clearly he didn’t want distractions. But meeting Lissa was more than a distraction. It felt like a life-changing event, one beyond his control and one he wasn’t sure he could handle.
Lissa escaped earlier than she’d thought she’d be able to, leaving the others up to their elbows in charts. She raced along the footpath to Jackson’s, the bar where Gina and the others were already on their second round. Gina waved her over excitedly and Lissa was soon ensconced with fresh pineapple juice in hand, slightly distanced persona in place talking with some of the junior consultants.
Suddenly she felt an elbow in her ribs. ‘Come and meet Karl.’ Gina had such an expectant look on her face as she dragged Lissa near the door that Lissa had to stifle a giggle. She recognised him from the party at the office where she had mistaken him for Rory. She cringed afresh at her blunder. While Karl had a great physique and a fabulously cheeky grin, he was no Rory. They were poles apart in terms of dynamism and sheer animal magnetism.
Karl took her hand and gave her the benefit of the cheeky charmer grin. ‘Great to meet you at last. I’ve heard so much about you.’
‘As I have you.’ Lissa smiled at him. She was surprised as she caught the vestige of a wink. Not a suggestive wink, but more one aimed at a co-conspirator. That was funny. Unless she was reading things wrong this guy wasn’t interested in meeting someone new in the least. She sipped from her glass, appreciating her decision to go with the refreshing juice, watching the interplay between him and Gina.
Gina was her usual bubbly self, but Lissa noticed the serious glint in Karl’s eye as he watched her. It took about fifteen seconds of observing this for her to make the connection. Gina disappeared, called away by another friend, and Lissa lost no time in