And the tension wrapped right around them, too.
‘Back away from me, Marissa. Tell me not to mess with a perfectly good working relationship. Tell me not to mess with you.’
‘You’ve been different tonight.’ She whispered the words and he braced his feet and drew her into the V of his body.
Her hand lifted to his chest and he kissed her. Pressed his mouth to hers and his body to hers, and pleasure and a feeling rightness swept through her.
‘More.’ He whispered the word.
Marissa lost herself so thoroughly in Rick’s kiss, lost senses and feelings and responses and, yes, emotions, in him. When his lips left hers to trail over her ear to the sensitive cord of her neck, she closed her eyes and let the feel of his body against hers, his hands cupping her head, her shoulders so sweetly, sweep through her.
Could a man’s touch communicate straight to the heart of not only a woman’s senses, but also her soul? It seemed so.
She clasped her hands on his shoulders, curled her fingers around his upper arms and held on. When he skirted his hands up from her waist, over her back, to where her shoulders were bared by the wide cowl neck of the dress, she shivered.
A strained, needy sound passed through his lips. It was the last thing she consciously registered for long moments as they stood by his door, their bodies tightly entwined, her resistance and grand plans in shambles. Her bag lay at her feet. She had no idea when it had landed there.
‘Say my name.’ The words were harsh and possessive, demanding and enervating. ‘I want to hear it. I don’t want you to be thinking of him—’
What did he mean? A chill rushed over her skin and all through her body. She wrenched away from him. ‘What do you know? What have you heard? About that fake engagement I believed was real? About Michael—’
‘Ah, I didn’t mean to say that.’ He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘I had to know why you left your last job, Marissa.’ His eyes were dark and turbulent. ‘The information about your personal life—I didn’t ask for it, I stopped the man when I realised where he was headed with the conversation but by then it was too late.’
‘Right. I see. So you phoned my old company to investigate why I left, and you found out things about me at that time.’ If his gaze softened into pity she would die right there, and now it all made sense. This. This was the empathy he’d displayed earlier.
‘Without meaning to find those things out, yes.’ He seemed to search for words.
Apology. Regret.
Yes, she heard them in his tone but, most of all, she heard that he knew of that embarrassment. He now probably thought she was desperate and on a manhunt. What if he thought she’d set out to hunt him? Mortification, shame and anger crashed through her. She clutched at the anger because the others were too awful to bear.
‘That call. I knew I recognised the voice.’ And Rick had closed his office door and talked about her. ‘I don’t care if you say it was business.’ Her voice shook. ‘I’d started to trust you. I can’t believe I did. What did the man tell you? That Michael Unsworth made a fool of me? What does that have to do with my good record at Morgan’s?’
‘Nothing. I didn’t want that information. I didn’t ask for it.’ He reached for her hand but she drew back.
He went on in a low voice, ‘I’m sorry he hurt you, Marissa.’
‘Well, don’t be sorry because I am totally over the way Michael treated me. I learned from it and I moved on. Was that what this kiss was about? Pity? Tell me!’
He drew a harsh breath into his lungs. ‘You know better than that. I want you in my bed and I have from the first day I had you up on that excuse for a bridge with me. Maybe you should pity me, because I can’t seem to get that desire for you out of my system, no matter what I do.’
Rick’s admission stunned Marissa into silence. More, perhaps, because of the flash of something deeper than desire that burned for a moment in his gaze before he masked it.
Oh, will you listen to yourself, Marissa? Do you want to fall for Mr Corporate a second time?
Rick had just proved his ruthlessness to her!
But he’d also apologised and seemed as though he meant it.
She scooped her bag from the floor. ‘I just want us to work together and get along and I want to follow my well thought out plans for my life in peace. Is that so much to want?’
‘It isn’t. It isn’t too much to want.’ He took a step towards her as she wrenched open the door. ‘Marissa—’
But she didn’t wait to hear what he might have said.
She left.
CHAPTER NINE
To: Sanfrandani, Englishcrumpet
From: Kangagirl
One last thing to tell you both. I spoke to Mum on the phone early this morning. We had a good talk and I let her know I’d rather spend a weekend with her and Dad a bit down the track after my birthday, that I’m really busy at the moment and don’t want a party of any kind.
From: Englishcrumpet
I’m sure your mum will understand.
From: Sanfrandani
You can throw a big party when you’re ready.
From: Englishcrumpet
Or not.
From: Kangagirl
People make a big deal out of the thirtieth birthday, but really, it’s just another day on the calendar. I probably won’t even think much about it at all.
Grace had instant messaged a little after that, a message Marissa caught on her way out the door to go to work. She’d asked whether Marissa was in denial about her thirtieth birthday.
Marissa hadn’t had time to respond. And right now she was focused on other things. Rick Morgan things, to be precise. Work things. Marissa barrelled along the corridor towards Rick’s suite of offices.
Anyway, she had to come to terms with that looming birthday. It wasn’t denial to say it wasn’t significant, it was the power of positive statement. Say it enough times and she’d come to believe it.
If she could apply the same outlook to her relationship with Rick—her working only relationship—that would be a great help.
As a mature professional, she could work with Rick until his secretary returned. She only had to survive that long and then she could forget him, forget what he knew about her. All she needed to do was hold her head up and he’d soon realise he had no reason to pity her.
Dani and Grace had blamed last night’s kiss on too much alcohol or maybe an overload of successful business-related feeling when Marissa had calmly and casually discussed the topic with them via two separate Instant Message sessions last night and this morning—before she’d sent that later message about Mum and avoiding a birthday party.
You mean when you buzzed them, desperate for some support because you were scared stiff you’d let yourself fall for the boss only to find out he’d invaded your privacy?
She had not fallen for the boss, nor did she intend to. And he had invaded her privacy.
He’s head of a multi-million dollar company and you’ve been working directly for him, handling some very sensitive material. He exercised his right to enquire about your past employment and he said he only wanted to know about that. You know the department head who spoke to him is a big gossip.
Marissa