Page 15 of Bedding his Innocent Mistress

“Great to have you,” he drawled, and Ivy’s pulse fired at the intentional double entendre.

“Sit down, Ivy,” Margerite commanded and Ivy took the only empty seat in the room -opposite Rafe. She tried not to think about the fact that the table top was glass. That her lower half was clearly visible beneath its translucent top. About the fact he’d be able to see the slight wobble in her knees if he cared to look. She made an effort to relax her body, to look focussed, but the meeting was a whirlwind of missed comprehension.

So Rafe was the new owner of GBRTV?

She hadn’t even known it was being sold, but then, that was how these things often happened, wasn’t it, to appease shareholders and avoid panic?

At least now she knew what he did. He bought things. Expensive things.

Like television and radio networks that must have cost billions of pounds. Had he known who she was? Where she worked?

She quickly discounted the idea. Their meeting had been pure chance. This was one of life’s coincidences. Her eyes flicked upwards. He was watching her.

The smile, always so quick to flick across her face, was quivering somewhere in her gut. He didn’t smile either. His expression was a thundercloud. As the meeting dragged onwards, and Margerite talked herself to a point of hoarseness, Ivy became aware of two things.

He was looking almost exclusively at her.

And Margerite was interpreting his expression as one of abject disapproval. Nervousness was making her verbose and Rafe was barely listening.

“In any event, it will be business as usual. For most of you, the fact there’s a new corporate owner shouldn’t have much impact on day to day running.”

The corner of his lip twisted in an acknowledgement of the remark that carried with it a silent refutation.

The coffee had soaked through her dress and her bra and the arctic air-conditioning of the meeting rooms was making her shiver.

“I’d like to know more about your online content,” she heard him murmur and her eyes slid to his with almost a look of panicked apology in them.

“Absolutely,” Margerite was swift in response. “Ivy can answer your questions. Ivy?”

His stare was the same, but different. Eyes that had been filled with heated need were now impossible to read. He wasn’t the only one looking at her. The whole room seemed to be collectively homed in on Ivy, waiting for her to drop some pearl of wisdom about online content and digital reporting.

“What would you like to know?”

“More than we can discuss now,” he said simply. “And I see no point in monopolising the entire management team while I get to grips with the operation.”

“No, of course not, there’s too much work to do as it is.” Margerite in this guise, eager to please and quick to agree, was reminiscent of a grovelling stick insect, all obsequious nodding. “Ivy can make herself available to you privately.”

The words were so perfectly, exactly what Ivy might have liked that

she felt a hint colour spread through her cheeks. “Yeah, of course,” she mumbled. “I can meet you afterwards.”

“Once you’ve changed?” He prompted, his eyes dropping to the mark on the front of her dress.

Pink cheeks became red, but his lips were smiling and his eyes were teasing. He wasn’t trying to embarrass her so much as share a joke. Danger, danger, danger, a little internal red flight flashed. Flirting with him was a very bad idea.

“Great,” she scraped her chair back. “Would you excuse me now?”

Ivy practically ran to her office and slammed the door shut with more force than she’d intended. She rifled through her drawer, pulling out a black pencil skirt and a silk blouse. Her office wall was made of frosted glass. Only about head-height and upwards was transparent. Still, she locked the door and turned her back to it, changing as though wild-horses were upon her.

She discarded the beautiful white dress in a Tesco bag then quickly fastened the buttons of her shirt, trying not to think of undoing Rafe’s. Button by button, like some kind of sensual breadcrumb she had followed down his chest until she’d seen all of his glorious torso.

The knock on the door didn’t surprise her, but it set her pulse hammering and when she pulled it inwards, she held her breath.

He was so beautiful.

She could only stare at him, at first, letting her eyes linger on his face for several seconds before shaking her head to clear the confusion.

“Ivy.” Her name on his lips was sublime. It conjured every memory of how it had sounded when he’d whispered it into her ears, warm and spiced, filled with sunshine. But there was a different kind of passion stirring his features now. An anger she didn’t understand. “May I?” He asked tersely, nodding towards her office.

---