And he knew her face too well. He’d been prowling the floor more than usual just to get a glimpse after spotting her in the open-plan office on Monday. Her glossy black bob with the too-long fringe had caught his eye, and then her oh-so-professional man-style shirts hinted at the most luscious curves.The last thing he should be doing was chasing skirt—walking through the office a zillion times a day on the lamest of excuses. But while waiting on those blood results he’d been only too happy to be distracted. For five minutes he hadn’t wanted to think at all. So he hadn’t. And the moment he’d touched her, all remaining rational thought had fled. Her shape was more wicked than he’d suspected—slim, soft, devastatingly curvaceous. It hadn’t taken much effort at all to lift her against the back wall of the elevator, raising her high enough so her eyes were almost level with his. Beautiful big brown eyes burnished with a caramel gold—and filled with a challenge he’d been utterly unable to resist. He’d been thinking about what she’d feel like in his arms—dreaming of her curves spilling into his hands. Damn it, he was still dreaming of that.
Alex blinked, came out of the haze and watched, seeing now what he’d felt so gloriously at the time. His back was to the camera but you could see her face as he kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck. Her eyes were closed, her hands caressed his shoulders, his hair. Passionate. Beautiful. And then came the moment, her legs parted, wrapped around his waist and his body reacted now as it had then. Instantly hardening, instantly burning, insisting on getting closer.
And then the bloody lift moved. It had been over far too quickly.
‘You’re watching it again, aren’t you?’
Alex flinched. Hell, he’d forgotten Lorenzo was still on the phone. He’d forgotten he was sitting in an airport lounge. Fortunately it was a midweek red-eye flight and the other patrons were too busy slurping the rotten coffee to pay any attention to him.
‘It looks pretty good,’ Lorenzo added blandly. ‘You’re getting some star ratings.’
Alex scrolled down, read the first few comments and felt his face fire up like some mortified teen caught making out with his first girlfriend—by his grandma.
‘Who is she?’ Lorenzo might sound indifferent, but Alex knew his friend was as agog as he got.
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do you mean you don’t know?’
‘She’s a temp. Started last week. I don’t know her name.’
Lorenzo’s chuckle didn’t help. ‘Well, you better find out—this thing is doing the rounds of every inbox in the office.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘Wish I was, but I’ve been sent it three times already this morning—and once from a colleague in Hong Kong.’
Anger surged into Alex’s veins. He didn’t need this and she didn’t deserve it. It had been a whim—a crazy, lusty whim and one right on the edge of his code. Alex Carlisle never seduced temps or coworkers—too messy. Especially given he was the boss. But the irresistible force of her had felled him. And was still affecting him—wasn’t that why he was sitting here now doing nothing? Despite having been up for hours he hadn’t achieved a thing because he was too busy plotting how he could get close to her again as soon as he got back to Auckland. How did he do it without breaking his own rules?
‘What would your old man say?’ Lorenzo laughed again. ‘Screwing around in the office, Alex, bad you.’
Alex iced over and pressed pause on the playback. He hadn’t told Lorenzo what he’d found out. It was proved—the chance of the DNA results being wrong were so tiny no lawyer in the land would dare argue it. Samuel Carlisle wasn’t Alex’s father. Instead it was his best friend who’d supplied the necessary chromosomes. The friend who’d been on the periphery of Alex’s childhood—the honorary uncle, the godfather figure—hell, he’d even been the one to offer advice when Alex had doubted whether he’d wanted to go into the family business.
‘You’re a Carlisle—it’s in your blood.’
Patrick had lied so easily.
Alex had found out only a few years after that that Samuel couldn’t be his biological father. When illness had struck, Alex had offered his body, his blood. But it didn’t match Samuel’s—at all. His mother had begged him not to tell, but she’d refused to say who his real father was. She’d taken that secret to the grave with her.
Alex couldn’t then ask Samuel—couldn’t destroy his last years. But Alex had been burnt through from the inside out by the betrayal. Anger, resentment had festered, his trust severed. And in the quiet dark hours the unanswered question had tormented him.
But now he knew. Patrick had been her lover. Patrick had fathered her child. The pair of them had lied for years to the man she was married to. They’d lied to him, their son.
And Alex would never forgive either of them for it.
He needed time before he could speak of it—even to his best friend. But before he got to that, there was now this situation to be sorted.
He forced out a half-laugh as he looked at the image on screen. Caught out the one time he went base at work. Just the icing on the way the last week had gone.
‘I’m flying back shortly. Meet me at my place this afternoon.’ He hung up before Lorenzo could say more. Stared at the way her hands threaded through his hair and her legs clamped round his waist.
The anger simmering beneath his skin spiked through. He wished he could storm into Security, find the culprits and fire them on the spot. Every single one of them. But going on the hunt would only inflame the situation. He’d have to make do with a memo reminding them of the ‘Use of Internet’ policy. He couldn’t get rid of them—at least, not yet.
Damn.
The other person he couldn’t sack was her—straight to litigation that would be. But it was going to be pretty messy with everyone in the office watching this little number. How was he going to protect her?
He didn’t even know her name.
CHAPTER TWO
DANI wondered what it was she’d done wrong. She’d been temping here for over a week and until today they’d all been polite and friendly. All except Mr Alex Carlisle, that was. But she wasn’t thinking about him. Definitely not fixated on what had to have been the craziest few minutes of her life. She’d forget it. He obviously had, because she hadn’t seen him since—he’d disappeared from the floor, hadn’t been down loitering by the managers’ desks at all since The Lift. She refused to acknowledge the sting she felt over that. And she hadn’t been able to swap to a placement with another company; there were no other placements—none that lasted as long and paid the same kind of money. So, embarrassed or not, she was here to stay.
But the looks she was getting from everyone else today. The number of people that had filed past her desk…and they’d all been rubbernecking. There was no way they could know what had happened. He wouldn’t have told anyone, would he?
Maybe she had half her breakfast on her face. She ducked behind her computer screen and used a tissue. Surely they didn’t know. How could they? They’d been alone. It hadn’t been long—not nearly long enough for her starved hormones—only a few minutes. They’d been a metre apart when those lift doors opened because he’d been aware enough to move. She hadn’t. So, given that he’d moved, he hadn’t wanted them to be caught. Therefore, Dani reasoned, they couldn’t know and she was just feeling paranoid. Besides, it was days ago now. And she. Had. Forgotten. It.
But there was an unnatural awareness about the place. She could feel them all watching her. And she couldn’t help but think of him again. She’d been told he had a way with women, but she hadn’t realised he had more pulling