In the Market for Love Read online

  She was alone with him.

  * * *

  Marcus opened the bar fridge in the agency’s kitchenette. “If you’re after a cold drink, we’ve got Coke, cold water and Perrier.”

  “A Perrier would be lovely thanks,” Samantha said.

  “Help yourself.” Marcus pointed inside the fridge. “It’s at the back.”

  Just as he’d thought, Samantha Webb’s backside looked beautifully inviting as she reached into the fridge. The rest of her looked pretty good too. Her top had ridden up exposing the bare skin of her hips above the waistband of her pants. He knew he shouldn’t be so blatant but he simply couldn’t help himself.

  Closing the fridge door, she turned to face him. She looked good from all angles.

  She pressed her pale hair behind those pretty little ears. “May I have a glass please.”

  Marcus opened a couple of cupboards before reaching across for a tea towel to dry a glass from the dish drainer.

  “How very domesticated,” she said.

  “No, not at all. I’ve got a cleaning lady at home. But I can stretch to doing the dishes occasionally.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  There was something about her which attracted him in a way other women didn’t. Normally, he took what he wanted. He’d go out with a girl, have a good time and then go on to the next woman.

  Yet he hadn’t even asked her out for a drink. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was almost as if he was scared of what might happen.

  “So how long have you worked in marketing?” he asked, eager to make the requisite small talk.

  “Only a few years,” she said. “I haven’t been out of university that long. I’m only twenty-four.”

  “Really? I thought you must have been working longer than that. You handle yourself very well in the boardroom. And Rachel certainly respects your opinion.”

  He was pleased when he saw her smile. The conversation then drifted off into some pleasant chatter about how they both enjoyed the beach and were looking forward to summer. Glancing at her watch, she suggested they return to the boardroom.

  “Yep, back to the grindstone.” He tried to think of some way to prolong their time together. “Hang on, I might grab a drink for myself.”

  “You can have a sip of mine, if you like.”

  He could definitely do that. He drank from her glass, all the time wondering if one sip would be enough or whether he’d want more. This was the kind of suggestion he would normally have longed for from a woman. Then he’d pounce, go for the kill. But there was something different about Samantha.

  He handed the glass back and held her gaze, his hand lingering on hers. It was so strange for him to want a woman and not just take her.

  Ushering her ahead of him, he tried desperately to think of ways to prolong their interlude. Usually he was adept at small talk and compliments. He didn’t know what was happening to him.

  “Have you been watching that new detective show on TV?” He cringed inside, embarrassed that that was the best he could come up with.

  He had to take his time. They didn’t need to hurry back.

  * * *

  Jake was quietly confident. “It looks like we’ve got a few minutes alone together until they get back.”

  It cut him to the core that Rachel had put up such a barrier between them. She must’ve had plenty of experience pushing men away. A woman like her. Men must swarm around her.

  Perhaps he should have been more forceful when he’d followed her out to her car. When their lips accidentally brushed against each other, it was all he could do to control himself. Heaven knows he wanted to take her into his arms, crush his lips against hers, never let her go.

  He couldn’t work her out. That night she’d been so determined not to let things go any further. Her body language had told him that. Yet at the same time she seemed fragile as though she’d been hurt and was protecting herself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  Her lush dark lashes were lowered as she gazed at the documents on the desk, her toned arms stretched out as she fingered the corner of one page. She had no idea how enticing she looked and that only made her more alluring.

  Surely she must feel the same way he did. It wasn’t possible for her to create such craving within him without feeling an inkling of it herself.

  Yet he wanted her to feel more than a rivulet of desire. He wanted her to surge with hunger for him the way he did. Part of her would never be enough. He wanted the complete woman.

  He’d let her go once. That wouldn’t happen again.

  “We can wait,” Rachel said. “They won’t be long.”

  She wanted him to wait. That was the last thing he was going to do.

  “They might be longer than you think,” he said.

  Though Marcus wasn’t shy with women, he seemed to be taking his time with Samantha. No doubt he’d use the opportunity to get to know her a little better.

  But for the life of him, Jake couldn’t imagine why any man would choose Samantha over someone like Rachel. Samantha was attractive and seemed lovely, but she wasn’t the woman that Rachel was.

  Then he’d never met anyone like Rachel before.

  He felt it in the smile which crossed his face when she made her playful retorts. In his heart when she told him of the hardships she’d been through. In his stomach which became a tempest in her presence.

  “We’ve still got a little bit of time to ourselves,” he said.

  And he wasn’t going to waste it.

  * * *

  A shiver of anticipation washed over Rachel.

  Time for what? Time for him to not phone her. Time for him to not kiss her. Jake clearly had no idea of the emotions simmering inside her, no idea of the turmoil he was causing her. Then again perhaps he did.

  And now she was alone with him. When Samantha and Marcus had been here, there’d been a campaign to manage, a job to be done, decisions to make. Without them, Rachel found herself in a no man’s land where her thoughts were skewed and she no longer knew what she wanted.

  She pushed her chair back and meandered over to the window, gazing at the luxurious expanse of city and harbour before her. She’d felt warm earlier and had removed her jacket but now she felt strangely exposed in sleeveless top and slim fitting skirt. She crossed her arms.

  “Enjoying the view?” Jake asked.

  “It’s truly stunning,” she said. “We don’t have a view like this at my office.”

  To her, it was a symbol of how different their two worlds were. Jake’s world included million dollar views from the luxury location of his advertising agency. Meanwhile she worked for a small scientific research organisation with ageing office furniture and cheap rent in an old building on the other side of the city.

  Was it was possible to appreciate surroundings as elegant as this if that’s all you’d ever known? Jake didn’t have anything with which to compare this. He only knew what it was like to come to work in a chic modern interior, sit on leather upholstered chairs and look out at Sydney Harbour.

  “You’re right,” he said. “It is stunning.”

  She wasn’t sure he was talking at the cityscape. He was standing behind her. While she’d been mesmerised by the view, he’d followed her to the window and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “And I suppose your house has a spectacular view too, does it?” she asked.

  “Yes, I live in Mosman. With a view of the Sydney Heads. It’s quite a view.”

  The Sydney Heads. The two distinctive land masses through which all vessels entered the harbour. It shouldn’t have surprised her that his address would be equally as impressive as his office.

  “Tell me, “ she said, “Do you take it for granted when you see this every day?”

  “No, I don’t,” he replied. “But the view is mostly for the clients. To impress them. Make them feel special. The ad business is so much about show. And that’s what this is. A show.”

  “A show?”

  She�
��d assumed the spectacular view and stylish offices were a reflection of Jake’s pride. A symbol of his success.

  “This firm isn’t a harbour view,” he said. “The firm is made up of people who are hard working and incredibly creative. That’s what makes us so good. Not the offices. Not the location.”

  She didn’t know how to respond or what to say. It was hard to think with Jake standing so close to her.

  His cotton shirt rustled as he stepped closer. “You know, from where I’m standing the view looks amazing. I’m not taking it for granted.”

  She felt him looking at her, his eyes burning through her. The double meaning of his words took her breath away. She turned to face him. Their bodies dangerously close, the air between them surged with a powerful charge.

  She did what she had been unable to do at the board table and looked him in the eye. “I hope you were talking about the view of the harbour.”

  “Not at all. I was talking about you.”

  His voice was like a suede cloak wrapping itself around her and his words sent a current of desire flushing through her.

  “The other night,” he continued. “I wanted to kiss you.”

  Her mouth fell open. “So why didn’t you?”

  “I wanted to…but it wasn’t enough.” Jake tilted his head towards hers. “I wanted more.”

  “And what was that?”

  “For you to want me to kiss you.”

  Her body was flushed with delicate warmth. The downy hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  Was it possible he didn’t know the depth with which she craved him? How could he not sense the torrent of desire surging through her?

  He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head upward. There could be no doubt now. He brushed his lips against hers, gently at first, then nibbled on her lower lip.

  Dropping his hands, he slid his arms around her waist, took her in his arms and covered her mouth with his. He rolled his tongue against hers and she returned his passion.

  Her hands rested on his upper arms. She slid them over his biceps and across his strong shoulders until they curled around his neck. She wanted him closer. She wanted more. Desperate for his bare skin, she slid one hand under his collar, tugging at the bottom of his hairline, pulling him closer.

  He pressed her against the glass. His desire was ferocious, his passion relentless, his body potent against hers. Through her thin sleeveless top she felt the sheer size of him against her. Molten desire flushed through her body.

  She was transported to a dangerous altitude, a place she hadn’t been to before. She’d been kissed before but never like this.

  The sheer window behind her, Rachel towered over the streetscape below and the buildings and harbour beyond. Only a few centimetres of clear glass separated her from a sheer drop and the hazardous height she had reached. Their weight pressed against the window and their passion in turn pressed on them.

  She was petering on the edge of a treacherous precipice. One slip and she’d tumble into oblivion and no one could catch her.

  Vertigo hit her like a truck crashing through the window. Suddenly dizzy, her insides were whisked around, her head spinning behind closed eyes as she felt herself spiralling.

  But above all else, she felt alive. Deliciously, dangerously alive. And she wasn’t going to let that go.

  She clung to Jake, leaning back against the window and the precipice behind her. He wound his arms further around her, their bodies intertwined.

  Slowly he loosened his grip. He peppered her throat with tiny kisses and her neck arched upwards. She savoured the aftertaste of his kiss and the warmth of his breath near her face.

  Still, she couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him.

  “I didn’t say I wanted you to kiss me.”

  “I know,” he said. “I didn’t care.”

  He was such a good match for her. He would always challenge her and push her further, yet he’d always make her feel like a woman.

  At the far end of the room, the door unlatched. The sound of Marcus’ deep voice and Samantha’s girlish laugh outside the door cut through the air.

  Rachel spun around to face the window, straightened her skirt and smoothed her hair.

  In the reflection of the glass, she saw Jake take a couple of steps back to lean on the boardroom table. He was still looking at her. He hadn’t shifted his gaze.

  “Are we ready to get back to the meeting now?” he called out to Marcus and Samantha.

  Rachel was sure he was still looking at the view.

  And she liked him looking at her.

  Chapter six

  It was only a lunch date. So why was Rachel’s head spinning at the mere mention of it?

  The recollection of their turbulent kiss only a couple of days earlier came tumbling back to her. She’d revelled in the dangerous height to which Jake had taken her but now she’d had time to consider it more carefully she couldn’t possibly allow a repeat of that situation.

  She’d been hurt before and wasn’t going to let it happen again. She had to think quickly.

  “I can’t make it,” she said into the telephone.

  “I had a feeling you might try to back out of it,” Jake said.

  “Aren’t you even going to ask me why I can’t make it?”

  “Why would I be interested in your excuses?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Because I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment. I’ve got other projects apart from the campaign.”

  “So have I.”

  Was she a new project of his? It was time to cut him down. All she had to do was stick to her original decision and decline lunch.

  “I’m sorry, Jake, I simply can’t make it.”

  He chuckled into the telephone. She pictured the broad smile across his face, his white teeth sparkling, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

  “What on earth is so funny?” she asked.

  “Rachel Williams, are you afraid of having lunch with me?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll kiss you again?”

  Her mouth fell open with surprise and anger but she held back. It wouldn’t have been so infuriating if he were wrong but, damn him, he was right and that took it beyond rudeness into the realm of insolence.

  “What if I promise not to kiss you?” he asked.

  “You have no idea how well that would suit me. I’ll be there at 12.30 on the dot. What’s the place called again?”

  No way would he get the better of her. She scribbled down the address, slammed down the phone and stared at it in shock. A picture of Jake emerged in her mind. Confident. Suave. Probably still smiling at the other end of the phone.

  “I can’t believe this,” Rachel mumbled, just as Samantha entered the office they shared.

  Samantha reached over her desk for some papers. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I’ve got a lunch meeting with Jake today.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I’ve got a lot on at the moment. I’m flat out here.” She shook her head and looked away, annoyed at herself and her own lack of resolve.

  “So how come this meeting is ‘lunch’ anyway?” Samantha arched an eyebrow. “And how come Marcus and I aren’t invited?”

  “I didn’t choose the place or time or anything.”

  “But I guess you’re going. How bad can it be? You get a free lunch. And Jake is quite a hunk.” Samantha stopped by the door. “I’ve seen you looking at him.”

  “I don’t think that…” Rachel fumbled with her words. “Looking is one thing. Lunching is another.”

  “When was the last time you went out for lunch and it wasn’t with the girls? Don’t be such a prude. Have some fun for a change.”

  Samantha left the office.

  How bad could it be? What kind of question was that? She couldn’t lunge into a relationship with a man as dangerous as Jake. Not after her previous experience with him. If that’s
what it was like to kiss him, she could only imagine what it would be like to…

  No, she had to be careful to keep their relationship more business-like until she worked out a way of keeping her feelings in check. Nevertheless, the thought of lunch alone with Jake caused a sensual tugging inside her that she couldn’t override.

  He’d been teasing when he said he wouldn’t kiss her. She could taunt him right back. This might turn out well after all. Now she was in the power position.

  Maybe Samantha was right.

  It was time to have some fun.

  * * *

  Rachel caught a cab to Darlinghurst, crossed the street and searched for Mancini’s. Jake said there would be a small sign at the end of a laneway. It made her wonder why he’d chosen such a dodgy looking place.

  Entering though an oversized battered door, she went down a set of dark wooden stairs and turned a corner to enter a large, friendly basement room.

  The ceiling was warped and looked like it might cave in as large dark wooden beams struggled to hold its weight. The walls were whitewashed, forming the backdrop to an eclectic mix of paintings of landscapes and piazzas of Italy. The roughly hewn wooden tables were largely unadorned.

  Rachel was transported to another country and felt as if she’d chanced by an Italian trattoria on her travels. This wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

  “So you made it here alright?”

  Jake’s voice was deep and guttural, intoxicating even when his words were matter of fact.

  She turned to face him. “Of course.”

  He took a step back, a subtle smile washing across his face as his eyes skimmed the length of her figure. The crimson top she wore was clingy and its deep V neckline exposed rather more cleavage than was usual for her. The top might not have been her first choice if she’d known she was having lunch with Jake, but he could look if he wanted.

  A young waiter knew Jake by name and seated them at a small rustic square table in a corner. He handed them menus and placed cold water on the table.

  “Shall we order first or go through the agenda?” Rachel asked.

  Jake’s lips curled up at the corners. “What agenda?”