Page 30 of Enemies with Benefits

A flash of anger whipped through me, threatening to wipe away my smile. I fought to keep it in place as I pushed the door open.

He stood at a long cabinet that bordered the far wall, helping himself to a cup of the same java blend his secretary had offered me that first visit. As I breathed in that mouth-watering hit of caffeine and watched the ripple of broad shoulder muscles encased in another immaculate suit, I wondered whether I would associate this particular brand of coffee with him for ever.

He turned just then, a small smile playing around his lips as his gaze tracked me from head to toe and back again. As he noted my attire his smile widened, what looked dangerously like triumph gleaming in his eyes.

I forced my gaze away, partly because I didn’t want to confirm it and partly because in the morning light, with the sun streaming in, he looked far too delicious for my sanity. Reminded me far too vividly of how thoroughly I’d explored his body last night.

How I craved more?

‘Can I get you anything? Coffee? I’ve had breakfast laid out for us if you’re hungry.’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll take the coffee, but I don’t want any breakfast. I’ve already eaten.’ He didn’t need to know it had only been a couple of bites of toast, hurriedly wolfed down because I’d got caught up in another woefully mismanaged Bingham file and almost missed leaving on time to get here for his eight o’clock deadline.

He nodded and poured a second cup, then added a dash of cream. When he reached me, he stared at me for a handful of seconds before holding out the cup. ‘Good morning, Wren. You ready to begin?’

His voice was a low rumble that travelled through me, reminding me how his lips had felt trailing the sensitive skin of my neck. The sweet abrasion of his stubble against my breast. The filthy decadence of his tongue capturing and swirling around my nipple.

I accepted the cup without answering. Saying yes would be deemed surrender and I couldn’t give in, not until I’d exhausted every avenue. Because while I could rightly claim that Perry had been the one to agree to this deal, it wouldn’t stop another confrontation with my board, another round of questioning my decision and intentions. Another call from my mother under the guise of checking in on me but really to lament about the path I was taking.

Shaking my head, I approached where the papers were laid out.

‘Wren?’

Refocusing on him as he joined me, I glanced at him. His expression was just as resolute as last night, but his eyes held the gentleness that conveyed understanding of my predicament. My guts tightened against the need to sink into that gentle look. It was the opposite of what I needed.

I set down my briefcase and coffee and pulled out a chair. ‘I have a long day ahead. Shall we get on with it?’ I said crisply.

His gentle expression evaporated, and his face hardened but he joined me at the table, pulling out the chair for himself before settling into it.

‘I checked with the subcontractors this morning. Looks like this morning you withdrew your magnanimous offers?’

I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting my impetuous mistake. ‘Is that a question?’

He smiled. ‘Just an observation. And an offer of thanks for one less pain in my arse.’

I’d gripped that taut arse last night. Heat tunnelled through me and I moved my gaze to the papers in front of me. ‘Sure. Shall we move on to the next item on the agenda?’

He nodded, then took a sip of coffee.

I tried not to let my gaze drop to his lips. I really did. But a mere eight hours ago those lips were devouring mine, and, as much as I hated to concede it, he was one hell of a kisser. Combined with the knowledge of how much sweet havoc he could wreak with those lips between my legs, surely I could forgive myself for five seconds of indulgence?

‘Do you need a minute, Wren?’ he asked, a thread of amusement in his voice.

My gaze shot up to meet his and he was smiling knowingly. Without breaking eye contact, he nudged the agenda sheet towards me. ‘I went to the trouble of printing it out in case you didn’t check your emails this morning. So we can be on the same page, as it were,’ he added with a definite smirk.

I picked up the paper and quickly scrutinised it. There were twelve items on the list, mostly spelling out in black and white the tasks I was supposed to perform. I already knew the hours I was supposed to devote to the project but one item in particular made me glance up sharply.

‘You expect me to go to dinner with you on Wednesday?’

He nodded briskly. ‘A tequila producer I’ve had my eye on for a while is in town this week. He has a new specialised brand coming out around the time we open the first hotel. I want you with me because technically this should have been your job but I’m hoping you’ll help me convince him to supply exclusively to us for at least three months before he rolls it out to the general market.’

I frowned. ‘I already had a supplier lined up for you.’

‘Did you?’

The tight edge to his question made me pause for a second before answering. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘That’s curious. Because I’m sure there’s an email in my inbox telling me we’d lost our potential liquor supplier due to non-communication with Bingham Industries.’

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