Page 72 of The Wake-Up Call

“Of course,” I say, slightly horrified. “God, I didn’t mean—I’m not asking you to date me or anything, I’m just suggesting one night.”

His face is unreadable. After a moment, he nods. “Fine.”

“So, first rule,” I say, shifting myself up straighter. “This doesn’t change anything. You don’t have to pretend we get along because you’ve slept with me.”

He stares at me levelly. “You want us to behave as we always do at work?”

“Exactly.”

“So you will still rearrange the stationery drawer and make me saybooking bookall the time?”

“What, you thought you could kiss me into being nice to you?”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “No,” he says. “Not exactly. OK. So what is your next rule?”

“No telling anyone at work.”

His expression darkens. “Are you so embarrassed of me?”

“No!” I say, frowning. “It’s not that, it’s just... We’re colleagues.”

“Hmm.”

“It won’t be good for the hotel if everyone’s gossiping about us. You know what people are like.”

His face returns to its habitual stoniness. “Fine. I wouldn’t tell anyone anyway.”

I’m annoying him by trying to take over here, I can tell. This is familiar ground—I don’t particularly mind. My body is still thrumming with the force of that kiss, and Ilikethis. I like the way we push each other.

“Last rule,” I say. “It’sjustsex. I won’t sleep over tonight. There will be no cuddling. That way it’s...” The word that springs to mind issafe, but I say, “Simple.”

His jaw is clenched. “Simple,” he says.

He stares at me for so long that I start to shift, my confidence waning a little. I’ve taken so many knocks when it comes to Lucas. I know he doesn’t like me. He’s made that abundantly clear. I’m just relying on the attraction between us overruling that, and there’s always the threat of his brain kicking in at any moment, reminding him of all the reasons we shouldn’t do this.

And I can tell he’s thinking. Which is not good.

But the moment passes, and, quite suddenly, as if a decision has been made, Lucas throws the cushion onto the floor and reaches for my ankle. He circles it with finger and thumb. His expression hasn’t changed, but I can see his chest is rising and falling faster than usual.

“Any more rules?” he says, sliding his hand up my calf. “Or are you finished?”

I can’t think of any more rules. I can’t think of much at all with him touching me.

“No more.”

“So,” he says, his hand reaching my thigh. “What happens now?”

His fingers climb slowly, slowly. The tension in my body rises, too, spreading like kindling catching alight.

The very tip of his finger stops at the seam of my jeans. I am perfectly still, my eyes fixed on his. I have no idea how to do this. I’ve imagined having sex with Lucas countless times, but I always thought it would start explosively, the way that kiss did a moment ago. I never thought it would begin with eye contact and the slow path of his fingers; I thought we’d fall into one another and I wouldn’t have to make the leap.

His gaze shifts across my face. I’m a tumultuous mix of turned on and terrified. I want Lucas so badly, but I don’t trust him at all.Can I do this? Sleep with him without getting attached, without letting my walls down? For all my rule-setting, I’ve never actually had sex with someone I don’t like before.

Lucas’s hand slides down my leg again, pausing on my ankle, where he began.

“There is something in consumer rights legislation,” he says, “called a cooling-off period.”

I blink. “Oh. Right?” We’ve gone from hand-on-upper-thigh to consumer rights legislation at breakneck speed; my body is still thrumming with desire.

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