‘I’m talking about after hours.’ He cut her off with an impatient flick of his hand and his gaze pinned hers. ‘And we both know it.’
Her words echoed back to her. At the same time, his eyes promised all manner of tempting after-hours delights and her insides flipped like a stack of pancakes. Beneath the table she twisted her hands together. ‘Go ahead and talk.’
‘Make no mistake, Noosa’s been on the agenda a while.’
She nodded, knowing it was important to him that she understood he hadn’t planned the whole thing to seduce her. ‘Pam told me.’
‘The way I see it, this is the perfect opportunity to explore this attraction we have. Get it out of our systems. Move on.’
Attraction. Physical, sexual. Mutual. She was still overawed with the knowledge that this dream of a guy was interested in her. For however long it took to ‘move on’.
Was she game enough to go along with this? Experienced enough? To play it casual, have great sex—and it would be great sex with Jared Sanderson—then fly away to the other side of the world? She was leaving in three weeks and nothing and no one was going to stop her. So many ifs. Dream lovers were much less complicated.
But looking at the real man there was no comparison.
‘If you’re worried about repercussions,’ he said, ‘Pam’ll probably be back at her desk by the time we return.’ We can continue to see each other if we both decide that’s what we still want.
‘And your overseas plans won’t be a problem,’ he continued. ‘We both know up front how it’s going to be.’
Like a New Year sky-show, she thought. An explosion of sparks, heat and energy, over almost before it starts. And very terminal. Sky-shows also left an inevitable trail of cold ashy destruction as a reminder.
‘So this…’ she untangled her fingers, laid her palms flat on the table ‘…this…what we’re going to “explore”…is a fling.’
He must have heard the doubt in her voice because he leaned across the table and covered the backs of her hands lightly with his—not soothing or reassuring so much as enticing. It sparkled all the way up her arms to her shoulders.
‘You’re not comfortable with that, are you?’ he said. ‘It’s only a word, Sophie.’
‘A word which conjures up other words like self-indulgence and irresponsibility.’ A good thing is only a good thing for as long as you enjoy it.
He nodded slowly. ‘So call it whatever you like.’
‘A short term relationship,’ she said. ‘At least the word relationship implies a certain commitment, no matter how short-lived it may be. Don’t worry,’ she hurried on, ‘I’m not looking for long term any more than you are.’
He looked at her kind of funny and she couldn’t remember if he’d told her he wasn’t looking for long term or whether she’d just assumed it. Of course he wasn’t looking for more, she told herself, still holding his unreadable gaze. He didn’t date the same woman for more than a few weeks.
She didn’t date, period.
And yet, with Jared, even knowing all that, she felt…different somehow. Apart from being sexy he was a nice guy. Genuine. The kind of guy you could maybe trust. Maybe.
Turning her hands over so that his hard palms abraded her ultrasensitive ones, he laced his fingers through hers and his gaze seemed to reach down deep inside her to some unexplored place she’d never known existed. Maybe she was ready to take a chance on some fun with a guy. And since he’d enjoyed some fun at her expense, wouldn’t it be kind of fun to tease this workaholic back just a little?
‘So what do you say, are you with me?’
She just smiled a flirty smile and said, ‘Tell you what, how about we have our coffee at my place?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
JARED leaned on Sophie’s balcony and watched the palm fronds move lazily in the allotment across the street. A car-chase movie wailed from an open window in an apartment somewhere below. High-density living in apartments where the walls were thinner than cardboard wasn’t for him. Then again, nowadays he could afford to be selective.
He knew Sophie’s answer. Was one hundred and ten per cent certain. Didn’t know why he’d asked the question. The question he was more interested in finding out the answer to right now was when did this short-term relationship start?
The brief drive back to her apartment had been…intense. Inside the car the tension had been so tight it had been almost explosive. Like sitting on a bunch of live wires.
Or maybe that had just been him.
She’d invited him into her cramped but cheerful living room with its hotchpotch mix of furniture and colour. Mostly maroon, cream and forest green with slashes of peach in the furnishings. She’d switched on a muted lamp then slid the balcony’s full-length glass door open to catch the night breezes and invited him to make himself comfortable. He’d nearly laughed aloud at that and chosen the balcony, thankful for its cool camouflaging darkness.