Page 6 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

She hadn’t said much at first. Just watched. And listened. She’d been quiet. But something about her had kept drawing his eye. Something about her poise. Her quiet confidence. While others jockeyed for attention or kudos, she didn’t.

Then one day, when tensions were high, there’d been a dispute about the wording of part of the contract. In the heated tense silence between arguments she’d posited a totally novel way to word it that had instantly defused the situation.

Ajax had seen in that moment that she’d made a couple of enemies among the more ambitious of the group, but she’d seemed oblivious.

She’d intrigued him in a way that no one else ever had. He’d found himself looking for her every day. Checking she was there. One day she hadn’t been there, and her boss had informed Ajax that she was working on another project.

Ajax had told him to bring her back, as he didn’t want the contract team broken up before they’d reached agreement. Which hadn’t been entirely untrue. But his main motivation had been purely selfish.

The following day she’d been back in the room and their eyes had met. That was the other thing that had intrigued Ajax. She hadn’t looked away. Not for a long moment. She hadn’t been fazed by his regard. She hadn’t sensed his interest and then exploited it, as most women would.

The sense of intrigue had grown into full-blown lust. Until it had been hard to focus or think straight. She wore practically the same thing every day. Pencil skirts. Silk blouses. Jackets. Court shoes. Muted colours. Minimal make-up and jewellery.

But she was provocative. Ajax hadn’t been able to put his finger on why and that had irritated the hell out of him. He’d become transfixed by wondering what she would look like if her hair was down. And what was underneath those suits? Was she pale all over?

Her hair was a unique shade of dark strawberry blonde. He’d found himself wondering if she had hair the same colourthere, guarding her sex, and that had resulted in a raging erection. In the middle of a meeting. Humiliating.

By the time the deal had been done and they’d celebrated there’d been no way he wasn’t going to explore his fascination. He hadn’t even been sure if she wanted him too—but as soon as he’d asked her to wait and she’d looked at him with those huge hazel-brown eyes, colour scoring her cheeks a tantalising blush, he’d known that she did want him.

They’d barely lasted a few seconds in the elevator. It had been the hottest, most erotic experience of his life.

But the following morning, when Ajax had woken late, she’d been gone. Long gone. He’d never experienced that before. Most of his lovers were all too keen to cultivate intimacy the next day—which was why he never hosted lovers in his own home. Something he’d apparently forgotten that night.

She hadn’t even left a note. And when Ajax had seen her in the office a few days later, she’d looked at him as if nothing had happened. On one level he’d known he should be welcoming her lack of clinginess, but on another level he’d been incensed.

Had she not enjoyed the night? It had blown his mind... That suspicion alone—that she hadn’t experienced it the way he had—had made him feel exposed and uncomfortable.

Eventually he’d managed to get her alone and he’d asked her what was going on.

‘What do you mean?’ she’d asked.

‘We slept together, Erin.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘You left the following morning.’

She’d gone a little pink at that reminder. ‘I didn’t think you’d appreciate waking up to find me making breakfast.’

The fact that she was right hadn’t comforted Ajax. Perversely. And then he’d realised what was going on. He’d cursed himself.

‘This is a play, isn’t it?’

She’d frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re playing coy because you know it’ll engage my interest and curiosity.’

She’d looked angry—the first time he’d seen any extreme of emotion on her face. And the fact that he’d noticed had made him feel more prickly.

She’d said tersely, ‘I don’t play those kinds of games. I thought I was doing us both a favour...that neither of us wanted a post-mortem. It was just a one-night thing.’

Ajax had been a little speechless. He’d realised he believed her. And that she was speaking sense. Women didn’t usually captivate him to the point where he had to discuss anything.

Feeling exposed, he’d said, ‘You’re right.’

And so he’d walked away. And brooded for almost a month. But every time he’d seen her she’d seemed utterly serene—as if their night wasn’t lingering in her blood and body the way it was in his, no matter how much he tried to deny it. Like a decadent aftertaste of something that you just want one more bite of.

Just a one-night thing...

---