THE DEAL by Marsh, Nicola (electronic reader txt) 📕

He picked it up and dangled it in front of her. “Not so quick. Are you free the weekend after next?”

“Depends who’s asking,” she said, snatching the key out of his hand and twirling it on her finger.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that never failed to make her feel warm, safe, secure. “If you’re free, the firm is having a weekend away. An annual retreat thing. Spouses are invited, so I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

He reached out and stilled her hand. The key plopped onto the couch and lay between them, gleaming against the cream cushions. At his touch, her pulse accelerated, her breathing shallow. Desire slammed through her, all the fantasies of the last few weeks focussing on this man, this moment. She tried to extricate her hand, but he wouldn’t let go. He intertwined his fingers with hers, using his thumb to circle her palm.

“What about the key?” she asked, barely able to think straight as wave after wave of pleasurable sensation washed over her.

“That’s part of the deal. If you come away with me, you get to use the key and find out all about me.” He stared at her, bold, daring.

“Not another damn deal,” she murmured, unable to tear her gaze away from the challenge in his stare.

He cursed softly. “Poor choice of words, sweetheart. This weekend means a lot to me. I’m hoping we can sort out a few things and set the record straight.” He cupped her cheek.

She could scarcely breathe. It wasn’t just his touch; the hint of vulnerability mingled with boyish charm undid her completely. “I’ll come with you,” she murmured, willing him to kiss her.

“That’s great.” He beamed, his smile illuminating the room better than the down-lights. “I’m looking forward to it.”

She leaned towards him, parting her lips in anticipation. “Me too.”

He stared at her for an interminable second before standing, abrupt. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll give you all the details once I have them.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to pull herself together. Once again, she’d practically thrown herself at him, a bad habit, one she needed to break.

“Thanks for the invitation.” She bent down and picked up the key. “I look forward to using this. Unlocking your secrets is going to be fun.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, winked and walked away. She stared after him, admiring the view.

“Goodnight Matt.”

A strange, grunting sound was his response.

“If that was on oink, you’re in trouble.”

He turned at the front door. “And what are you going to do about it?”

He ducked the flying cushion she flung at him. “Missed me.”

She joined in his laughter. “Keep hamming it up.”

He smacked his head. “I better go. I’ve got to be up early tomorrow, to head off to work and bring home the bacon.”

“Out. I said no pig jokes.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Personally, I think they’re kind of cute...or is that the woman wearing them?”

Her laughter faded as he blew her a kiss and shut the door behind him. So much for cool. So much for detachment. In less than half an hour he’d shattered her carefully erected barriers yet again. Her infatuation hadn’t dimmed at all. If anything, he had fanned the flames of her desire and it threatened to burn like an out-of-control inferno.

Tonight had been different. She’d sensed it the moment he came in. He’d been less confident, more open. In fact, he’d been the Matt of old, the guy she knew all those years ago. The guy she’d loved. She pushed the thought aside, though it refused to be ignored. Once it had insinuated its way into her conscious, she couldn’t refute it.

So what if she’d loved him? It was over. Loved. Past tense.

As she unclenched her fist and looked at the small key in her palm, her stomach churned. Was she playing with fire? Did she really want to get burned again? She flipped the key over and over, hoping for an answer. What did it unlock? Whatever it was, she hoped it wasn’t a Pandora’s box.

* * *

Matt revved the engine and slid away from the kerb, tightly wound, like a cobra ready to uncoil and strike. He’d barely made it out of Kara’s apartment resolutions intact. It had taken every ounce of his limited willpower to walk away from her. She’d wanted his kiss, he was sure of it. And he’d resisted, despite the fact he’d wanted her the minute she’d opened the front door and he’d seen those cutesy pyjamas.

Damn, had his tastes changed. He loved lingerie on women and the smooth, sexy feel of satin beneath his hands, yet one glimpse of Kara in those cotton PJs and he’d been almost salivating. How could pigs be remotely sexy? He must be losing his mind.

However, he knew it had nothing to do with the sleepwear and everything to do with the woman wearing it. It wasn’t enough he’d slept poorly for the last few weeks since their passionate interlude on the yacht, now he had to contend with the tantalising fantasy of peeling those pyjamas off her…

He must be a sadist. Why else would he inflict this sort of torture on himself? He couldn’t get enough of her yet all he seemed to do was push her away. The weekend away would be different. Perhaps give them a chance to complete what they’d started on the yacht? With no strings attached, just the way he liked it.

He could never contemplate the L word,