Double Dare (2 page)

Abby smiled. If she'd done that, her hair would be a tangled mess and she'd look like the wicked witch of the west.

"Is that why you let him think you were a receptionist?" Suzanne added.

Abby shrugged. "It just kind of happened, but I have been known to tell the odd white lie when I'm on the prowl. It's just easier."

She glanced up as she unwrapped her stuffed ciabatta. "You know, I think that shows a human side."

Abby quirked a brow. "Why?"

"You don't get caught up in the image of all this like the rest of them." Suzanne gestured around the plush offices. "They all love that they are so high powered. You play it down. And you're the only one who offers to get me some lunch when you go for yours, did you know that?"

Abby shook her head. It hadn't even occurred to her. "It's easy to get caught up in it. Working in finance at this level can become all consuming. I love the buzz, but I don't want it to be the be-all, you know." She winked and looked back at the shiny elevator doors. "I wonder if he rides a motorcycle."

Suzanne's eyes rounded. "You mean does he have a big throbbing engine between his legs?"

"Oh please." Abby shut her eyes for a moment, savoring the image that leapt to mind. She laughed and snatched up her lunch bag. "You are so bad."

Suzanne grinned as Abby set off down the corridor, gesticulating with the stuffed ciabatta, her curly blonde hair bouncing. "He wanted you, he'll be thinking about you while he's riding his big throbbing engine."

Abby couldn't help laughing.

Inside her office she propped the calling card against her monitor. Opening her takeout bag, she set her lunch down on her desk then stepped behind it and looked out the window. The view never failed to inspire her—the beautiful façade of the City of London—pristine glass towers that cloaked the interior mechanisms of power and wealth, toil and corruption. A tremor of excitement passed over her, part business, and part pleasure.

She sat down and glanced at the array of computer screens lined up on her desk, stabbing her fork at her chargrilled chicken salad. The words and figures flitted across the screen, unseen. She was as restless and alert as a prowling lioness during the mating season. The August heat always hit her this way and either some action or a cold shower was in order.

She picked up her coffee and blew across the swirling black liquid. It made her think about black satin sheets being rumpled across a bed. She smiled. She saw sex everywhere, but that was no revelation. It was everywhere, and besides she did think about it a lot, she wasn't about to deny that. Especially right then. She wanted to know what Wolf-smile looked like naked, preferably over her while they had hot, dirty sex.

She pushed the lunch debris away and crossed her legs high on the thigh—an attempt to crush the insistent pulse point that was pounding there, which didn't help—returning her attention to her work. She checked the latest FTSE index feed and the BBC 24-hour news channel. That was her anchor, even more so than the FTSE. Her tactic was to watch the news as closely as the FTSE index. Share prices were led by world events. She made many a quick maneuver, salvaging potential losses and earning quick, successive gains, on the basis of world events. As she scanned updating news, an instant message popped up on her laptop. It was from her teammate, Ed.

Ed: e-mail from Tom. What do you think?

Abby scanned her mail and saw the message. It announced an urgent team meeting the next morning to discuss project control. In the investment broker business imminent change was regular, expected and greeted with enthusiasm. They worked in a fast-paced environment, one that looked for winners to back and took no passengers for the ride to the prize.

Ab: And?

Ed: Rumor is I'm going over to the Pascal account.

Ab: You'd like that.

If he was right about the change it was something Ed had been working towards. A big meaty project, international. He and Abby had been functioning as a team for the past few months, taking up new projects, start-ups, and the management of established portfolios.

Ed: You are the obvious person to take over the Ashburn portfolio.

She nodded as she contemplated the thought. If he were right, it would be a good chance for her to flex her business muscles.

Ab: Maybe...

The door sprang open and Ed walked into the room. "I'd put money on it."

She smiled, glancing over his broad shoulders as he strode toward her. Ed had rowed for his team at college. She often imagined herself the Cox, shouting orders to them while watching their strong, supple bodies heaving over the oars.

He shook his head as he looked at her. "It's a miracle Tom Robertson's making any bloody money at all with a gorgeous woman like you on site."

She looked up at his brown eyes and neatly cropped hair. Ed was smart, sophisticated, and a real stud.

"Distracting a male member of the team is considered a criminal offence in some companies," he teased.

She lifted one eyebrow. "Are you keeping a list of my bad behavior?"

"You never know, I might need to blackmail you one day."

She chuckled. He was a charmer—the proverbial city-boy stud—pure testosterone, be it in the office on the rugby pitch or between the sheets.

Was that what she wanted though? No, something darker, something...intimate and sexy. A secret affair with someone who didn't know about her job and the world that went with it. Her thoughts went back to the courier and a flame ran the length of her, from clit to throat, melting everywhere in between.

"You know, Abby, I'd give up all the other women I'm shagging, just for you."

She chuckled at his remark. It was familiar territory. He'd told her that if she ever wanted a good lay, he was there for her. They'd been sexually involved for a while, but nothing permanent came of it and they'd slipped back to being good friends. That meant a lot to her.

"I'm serious." He did look serious, but she didn't think of him that way.

"I thought you came in here to talk business."

He winked. "I did, but I do like to remind you what you're missing out on."

"I hadn't forgotten. I just value your friendship too much to risk it."

He nodded. "I know. If you change your mind, I'm here for you."

They chatted about the possible reshuffle but when he'd gone and she returned to her current market report, a doubt niggled at her. Some women would kill to get a man like Ed suggesting a proper relationship, but she loved him as a friend, no more. Was she too demanding of life—a life that was already full? She hoped not, she tried not to be, but she often doubted herself at moments like this. She had a great career in London, her own home, good friends. It was a wonderful life, but she craved something else. Mystery, something wild and dangerous. Something that challenged her in a different way. She'd give it all up—career, money, the lot—for that: a walk on the wild side.

She reached over to where she'd perched the business card from the courier. The hologram winked, like an eye watching her, beckoning. At the back of her mind a little voice began to chant.

I dare you, Abby. I dare you
.

* * * *

Zachary Bordino eased his Mercedes SLR down a gear and took the next exit off the London ring road. He'd passed into Surrey, where the commuter belt merged with the countryside. It was green and calm, the August heat mellowing out in the more tranquil setting. The city had been uncomfortably hot, the pavements sizzling.

Sizzling
. The word ran back and forth through his thoughts, returning him to the image of the sexy receptionist he'd had the lucky chance to encounter earlier that day at the Robertson Corporation. The way her glance had sidled over to him as she walked into the elevator had brought out all his hunting instincts. She was intriguing. He'd sensed a wild streak in her, just beneath the surface, and it caught his interest immediately. She was attractive too, in an unusual, bohemian way. Pale skin and amber eyes, dark hair shot through with red—hair that needed to be tamed. Her body was curvy but lithe, blatantly sexy in the way she walked and moved. She'd taken the business card for The Hub. He wondered if she'd find her way over.

Who'd have guessed the chore would turn out to be so interesting? At first he'd been nonplussed when his mother requested he deliver papers on her behalf, but he soon forgot that, thanks to the receptionist he'd had the pleasure to deliver them to. Her direct gaze had been filled with blatant appraisal, as if she was scoring him on his potential sexual performance when she looked him over, and that alone made his blood roar. She was one hot woman.

He pulled the car on to the gravel driveway of his parents' home and took off his shades, dropping them on the passenger seat as he got out of the car. Instead of going to the front door, he walked further down the driveway. Reaching over the fence, he unlatched the gate and stepped inside, catching sight of his mother on the patio as he did so.

She was carrying a tray of refreshments over to a table in the shady corner of the patio, beneath the trellis laden with trailing honeysuckle and bougainvillea plants. Hearing the dogs friendly barking she squinted over and lifted her glasses in one hand, peering through them without actually putting them on.

"Vain as ever," he murmured to himself as he returned her wave. Strolling over, the hounds at his heels, he put his hands out to embrace her.

She hugged him, petite and fair against him, although they shared the same blue eyes and inquisitive minds.

"Mother, you look more beautiful than ever." He rested a kiss on her forehead.

She dismissed his remark with a wave of her hand, but beamed, nevertheless. Smoothing down her perfectly smooth, silver-gray bob, she gestured at the seat next to her own.

"You're the perfect English gentlemen, despite the dash of Greek blood you have inherited from Dimitri."

"Just a dash?" He gave her a quizzical glance as he took his seat. "You're after something. When you don't need me you tell me I'm his offspring." He already knew she was after something when he'd had to play courier on her behalf.

"Nonsense, I wanted to see you. Boredom is sending me doolally. This early retirement business can drive a person mad."

He tutted, reached over and held her by one slim shoulder as he looked her over. "The rest is doing you good. You look stronger than you have in a long while."

She shrugged from his grasp, drawing his attention to the refreshments. Zac eyed her watchfully. She hated to admit she wasn't as strong as she used to be, but he was relieved to see her with more color in her cheeks than she'd had this past year. She'd been a fit woman all her life until the previous year, when she'd had a mild stroke and her lifestyle had come under severe scrutiny.

"Did you manage to deliver that little package for me?"

"I did. And I hope you have a good reason for sending me with documents the courier could have taken directly himself."

"What did you think of the place?" She sipped her drink, feigning nonchalance.

"The Robertson Corporation?"

"Yes."

"They have a very attractive receptionist."

"Zachary!"

He rested back in his chair and chuckled. "I assume it's the company you've hired to oversee the Ashburn investments?"

She nodded.

"I checked them out online before I went over. They have an impeccable reputation. I'm sure you knew that when you hired them. Just relax."

"I'd be able to relax if you helped me with my work." The way she spoke about the company as if she was still at the helm was such a giveaway.

Zac sipped his drink, making her wait. "I'm well aware that you plan to carry on by hook, crook or subterfuge." He smiled at her benevolently.

Adrianna let out a dismissive sound then rested her perfectly manicured hands together in a contemplative pose. "You are more observant than your father, I'll give you that."

"And less easy to influence?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose it's an admirable quality, even if does make my life more difficult." She shuffled in her chair. "Zachary, darling, I realize I made a mistake not encouraging you to get involved in the family business earlier, but I thought your father was right and you should establish your own interests first."