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Her Enemy With Benefits: Her Deal with the Devil / My Boyfriend and Other Enemies / Blind Date Rivals
She’d devoted her life to the company—so many hours she could never take back. At the time she hadn’t wanted to, had been content to bury herself in work, but her enforced absence had readjusted her priorities.
When Patrick headed back to Europe she’d make time to do stuff like this, even if it meant checking into a swank hotel for a weekend on her own.
A few spa treatments, a stack of chick-lit novels on her e-reader and Room Service would be the perfect antidote to her frenetic schedule.
And if she’d probably remember this time with one of the sexiest guys she’d ever met and maybe crave him a tad? She’d better make sure they created some pretty unforgettable memories this weekend to resurrect when needed.
‘Let’s go.’
His breath fanned her ear as he placed a hand in the small of her back. The simple touch sent a shiver of longing through her.
He must have felt the faintest tremor, for his fingers strummed her spine on the way to her neck, where he caressed the exposed skin. ‘The faster we hit room 2227, the faster we get to unpack those boxes.’
She almost corrected him and said suitcases—until she realised what he meant. While her body couldn’t wait to hit that room, her rationale couldn’t be ignored completely.
Her hands cupped his face, leaving him no option but to look into her eyes. ‘We’re really doing this? I mean, we still have to work together, and what if—?’
He kissed her—a soft, tender sweep across her lips that had her melting into him.
‘I picked a hotel because I wanted this to be special. Not a quickie in your apartment or on my desk.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Though that’s not entirely out of the question later.’
Okay, so he wanted a ‘later’? Before she could ponder or question what that meant, he continued.
‘We’ve known each other a long time so there’s no pretences, no awkwardness later. We indulge ourselves, have a memorable weekend without regrets.’ His arms slid around her waist, anchoring her. ‘You with me?’
With her heart still questioning the validity of what she was about to do, she nodded. ‘All the way.’
All the way echoed through her head as the elevator whisked them to the twenty-second floor and their exclusive Club suite.
It continued to plague her as he deftly swiped the key card and held open the door for her.
Then she stepped into the room and her fears faded.
Sapphie had a keen eye for beauty. It came with the territory of being groomed by a society mother who’d prided herself on appearance and showing the world grace and elegance at all costs. Growing up surrounded by exquisite jewels, being the spokesperson for Seaborns, had developed that keen eye. So stepping into the gorgeous Club room should have sent her observatory radar onto high alert.
Instead, the floral embossed carpet, the deep green drapes, the luxurious Old Worlde furnishings and the amazing view of Melbourne’s Flinders St Station, Federation Square and surrounds faded into oblivion the moment Patrick closed the door and backed her up against the nearest wall.
‘I’ve been going frigging nuts with wanting you,’ he said, kissing her before she could respond.
That tender kiss in the lobby had been nothing like this. Desperation. Hunger. Insanity. All combined to make her press against him as if she’d never get enough.
Sex in the past had been okay. Probably more her fault than the guys she’d dated, because her mind would always wander to business and she’d be mentally making lists instead of making whoopee.
But Patrick’s passionate kiss and the way his hands were tearing at her clothes…Her mind delightfully blanked.
She ripped at his shirt. Buttons flew.
He tugged at her skirt. The zip stuck.
They swore in unison, laughed, and their fingers became more dextrous as pants, tops and underwear were stripped in haste and protection donned.
‘Finally,’ he said, his gaze hot and potent as he started at her chest and swept downwards. ‘You’re as beautiful as I imagined.’
Sapphie’s first instinct was to squirm, but she forced herself to stand still beneath his scrutiny. People had stared at her over the years when she’d been modelling Seaborns’ jewels but that was different.
No one had ever made her feel so thoroughly exposed as Patrick did at that moment.
‘You have no idea how long I’ve been fantasising about this.’ He reached out, tracing a nipple with his fingertip. ‘And it’s way better in reality.’
‘Good to hear,’ she breathed on a sigh as he stepped closer, his erection brushing her abdomen. ‘Because I haven’t been thinking about you at all.’
He laughed and pressed harder against her. ‘Well, then, I’ll have to change all that.’
His hands cupped her butt, hoisted her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. ‘What I plan on doing to you this weekend will be unforgettable.’
Sapphie didn’t doubt it. That was the plan anyway: store up amazing memories for the long nights ahead when she mulled over how to make Seaborns bigger and better.
The Fashion Week campaign might keep the company in the black for years to come but she’d never stop striving. It had been her mum’s dream, was too ingrained, and while she intended on taking more time out in the future it didn’t mean she’d ever stop taking Seaborns to the top.
‘You’re that confident?’
‘Want me to prove it to you?’
He nuzzled her neck and she moaned. ‘Please do.’
He eased back a tad and tried to slide a hand between their bodies but she stopped him.
‘You’ve pleasured me enough. This time’s all about you.’
His eyes darkened to slate as he remembered the times in the bathroom, the boardroom.
‘I want you inside me. Now.’
‘I like it when you’re bossy,’ he said, sliding into her with one long thrust. ‘A woman who knows what she wants is such a turn-on.’
He eased out and she could have sworn she whimpered—a needy sound so out of character her she froze in surprise.
‘In that case, I want you to…’ She whispered exactly how hard and fast she wanted him in his ear, her cheeks burning the entire time.
But knowing how much Patrick wanted her, feeling him fill her, was incredibly empowering.
When her last command faded on a whisper Patrick took over. Hoisting her higher. Driving into her harder. Gripping her tighter as every thrust drove her closer to release.
She’d never achieved release by internal stimulation alone, but as Patrick talked dirty and demonstrated how he could follow through the tension in her muscles built and coiled in a delicious combination of pleasure bordering on pain.
‘Patrick, jeez…’ She shattered, spasms making her shudder a moment before he joined her on a drawn out groan.
They didn’t move for several long seconds as Sapphie tried to comprehend the enormity of what had just happened.
She’d just had her first cataclysmic, fabled internal climax. And while it had been monumentally stupendous, with her body still trembling in aftershocks, she couldn’t ignore the niggle of concern—the one that insisted the connection she’d just experienced with Patrick was one in a million.
Closely followed by a thought: what the hell would she do when he left?
Patrick’s grand plans to keep Sapphire locked away in their hotel room for the entire weekend hit a hurdle on Saturday.
He had to get out.
If he didn’t he was in dire danger of doing something he’d sworn he’d never do.
Committing to a woman.
The sex was phenomenal, but it was more than that. It was the shared laughter and confidences in bed last night, the common cravings for buttered popcorn and orange soda while watching an action flick, the crazy, scary feeling of total ‘rightness’ being with her induced.
He’d dated a lot of women the world over, but not one had managed to get under his skin as quickly as Sapphire.
How had the prissy, uptight kid from school turned into this temptress?
He’d expected his raging hunger for her to abate after last night. It hadn’t. If anything he had serious concerns he’d never be able to get her out of his head again.
Not good, considering their goals were worlds apart.
She had a high-end Melbourne jewellery institution to run, he had grand plans to take on his folks head-on in Europe.
Yep, worlds apart.
Where did that leave him? He’d gone into this with few expectations: short-term fling, move on.
So why, after spending one incredible night in her arms, had that thought become unpalatable?
‘Good to know you’re a rule-breaker.’ Sapphire raised her G&T in his direction. ‘Mighty generous of you, letting me leave the room.’
He gestured around the exclusive Club lounge on the twenty-fourth floor. ‘Didn’t want to push my luck with you getting bored of me. Thought you might appreciate a change of scenery.’
‘No chance of that.’ She sipped at her drink. It did little to cool the telltale blush staining her cheeks. ‘For much as I love the incredible city views and drinks and amazing seared scallops, I think you have plenty to offer by way of entertainment.’
He grinned as her blush deepened. ‘You think I’m entertaining, huh?’ He beckoned her closer and murmured in her ear. ‘Would that be when I’m going down on you or taking you from behind in the shower?’
‘Shh,’ she said, and shoved him away—but not before he’d glimpsed the hint of a smug smile. The smile of a satisfied, multiple-pleasured woman who hadn’t been reticent about letting him know.
Another thing that had surprised him—her absolute joyful abandonment when it came to sex. Sure, she’d been responsive in her bathroom and his boardroom, but he hadn’t expected her to be so utterly horny.
There was something infinitely appealing about a woman who enjoyed sex and wasn’t afraid to show it, and he loved that beneath her cool, businesswoman façade she was a sexpot vixen.
And she was all his.
At least for the weekend.
‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’
Her eyes lit up with pleasure and she nodded. ‘Not dismissing the last twenty-four hours in our suite, I’m having a ball being here.’ She beckoned him closer with a crook of her finger. ‘I never do stuff like this. Feels like I’m playing hooky and I love it.’
‘Don’t you go away for girls’ weekends with Ruby?’
Shadows blanketed the light in her eyes and the corners of her mouth drooped. ‘We’ve been pretty busy keeping Sea-borns afloat since Mum died, so most of our weekends have been spent working.’
Her response surprised him. Sure, he’d heard the rumours about Seaborns being in financial trouble but that had only been recently. As far as he knew the jeweller was a Melbourne institution and supplied pieces to the stars.
It looked as if a lot had happened in his absence.
‘I thought Mathilda was an astute businesswoman?’
Sapphire gnawed on her bottom lip, her G&T forgotten. ‘She was, but the shoddy economy hit us hard. Even rich folk stopped spending big on frivolities like new bracelets or necklaces and our profit margins tightened.’ She shook her head. ‘I made a promise to Mum to do whatever it took to keep Seaborns lucrative.’
‘You’re doing a great job—’
‘I almost lost the company,’ she said, her tone soft and plaintive. ‘Pushed myself too hard, didn’t enlist Ruby’s help—would’ve collapsed with a healthy dose of chronic fatigue syndrome if I hadn’t taken an enforced leave of absence.’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘Not many people do. Rubes did a great job keeping us viable while I recuperated at a health spa near Daylesford.’
‘How long?’
‘Three months.’
He couldn’t imagine this successful, driven woman taking a week off, let alone twelve weeks, and that fact rammed home how bad it must’ve been.
‘How do you feel now?’
‘Invigorated.’ She raised her glass in his direction, her smile self-deprecating. ‘Thanks to you.’
She’d given him an opportunity to dismiss the heavy stuff she’d revealed and move onto familiar teasing territory.
He wanted to—didn’t want to delve into personal territory that might strengthen the bonds between them. But the shadows in her eyes remained and he’d be damned if he’d let her down now she’d opened up. He might not want to complicate what they shared by taking it further, but the least he could do was hear her out if she wanted to offload.
‘When did you return to work?’
A slight frown creased her forehead. ‘The week before you walked in on me.’
He swore. ‘So you take months off and then jump straight back into the fray by pitching for the Fourde show?’
She glared at him, sass and defiance, and he’d never wanted to hold a woman more than he did at that moment.
‘I’d done my time. Rested, chilled, unburdened my soul to a bunch of self-help groups. Meditated, stretched—you name it, I probably tried it. But in the end…’ She made a circular motion with her finger at her temple. ‘I was going a little stir-crazy with all that wholesome goodness.’
‘Understandable. But we’ve been working manic hours on this show. How are you holding up?’
‘You tell me.’ She actually winked, obliterating the seriousness of their conversation. ‘At the risk of your ego getting any bigger than it already is, hanging out with you has been good for me.’
‘Care to clarify “hanging out”?’
‘At work.’ Her coy glance from beneath lowered lashes was adorable. ‘Out of work.’
‘In clothes.’ He ran a fingertip down her bare forearm, savoured her involuntary reaction as he raised goosebumps. ‘Out of clothes.’
She smiled, the tension of the last few minutes gone.
‘If I’d known you’d be better for me than months’ worth of yoga and meditation I’d have considered flying to Europe.’
She’d meant it as a light-hearted quip, a continuation of their word-play. But hot on the heels of his realisation that their fragile relationship could never go further it stung.
In a hypothetical world, if she were free from responsibilities, would they have a future?
Fruitless, irrelevant musings. But for a moment, with the thought of her joining him in Europe, it had been nice to dream.
He raised his Scotch and clinked it against her glass. ‘Well, lucky you don’t have to travel to Europe for my exclusive services. You can have as much as you want of me right here.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
She took a sip, lowered her glass and pinned him with a curious stare. ‘What’s it like working in Paris? Must be ultra glam.’
Unease tightened his throat. He didn’t want to talk about his life in Paris. Didn’t want to run the risk of saying stuff he shouldn’t. But she’d opened up to him with surprising honesty. The least he could do was give her a snippet.
‘It’s competitive. All the best fashion houses in the world vie for attention there.’
‘Yet Fourde Fashion continues to thrive? Your folks must be proud.’
Her steady stare never wavered, and along with the lies he’d now have to tell came the wish he’d changed the subject when he’d had the chance.
‘The business is their baby. As long as Fourde flourishes all is right with the world.’
He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but Sap-phire was smart, and by the slight frown crinkling her brows he knew she must have picked up on the hint of hostility in his tone.
‘Can be tough, working for your folks.’ She swirled her drink absentmindedly, took a sip. ‘I adored Mum but she was a ruthless boss. And being family muddied the boundaries sometimes.’
If she only knew. His familial boundaries weren’t mud-died—they were clearly obliterated.
‘Yeah, can make for interesting employee evaluations.’
Not that he’d been subjected to any from his folks. They preferred to let their silent disapproval do the talking.
‘I used to envy you.’ She snuggled into her seat and cupped her hands around her glass. ‘Not having parents looking over your shoulder all the time.’
‘They would’ve had to care to do that,’ he blurted, instantly regretting his blunt response when her eyes widened in surprise.
‘You didn’t get along?’
He shrugged, wishing he’d kept his big mouth shut, trying to play down his obvious resentment after that clanger.
‘I was a late arrival—a mid-life mistake. They had a burgeoning business and self-sufficient teenagers when I arrived. The rest is self-explanatory.’
Her pity was palpable. ‘So you didn’t spend much time together as a family?’
‘Try none.’ This time he managed to keep the acrimony out of his voice. ‘But, hey, as you said, I got to spend my last years of school parent-free. Lucky me.’
Then why did he feel so unlucky?
‘Bet they’re glad you’re all making up for lost time now.’
He grunted in response. Enough with discussing families, already. ‘Another drink?’
Thankfully she let him change the subject.
‘I haven’t finished this one yet.’ She glanced at the half-empty glass in her hand and raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?’
He winked. ‘Newsflash, sweetheart. I don’t need you tipsy to do that.’
‘Good point.’ Her eyes darkened to midnight as the tip of her tongue swept along her bottom lip, eliciting an instant tightening in the vicinity of his groin.
‘I need a refill,’ he said, also needing to get this evening back onto light-hearted ground. ‘Maybe you can take advantage of me?’
She laughed. ‘Keep wishing.’
As they continued their banter while feasting on delicious dips and breads, flirting outrageously, Patrick couldn’t dismiss the niggling feeling he’d be missing out on something great when he followed his dream in Europe.
And for the first time ever he wondered if it was worth it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SAPPHIE WASN’T IMAGINING the deep freeze.
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