Flirting With Intent (5 page)

Lightness of touch and an homage to languor and beneath it all a deep well of scorching heat. Ruby backed out of the kiss reluctantly, before it consumed her, and Damon moaned his protest and took one last fast taste before letting her pull back.

‘God, we’d be good in bed together,’ he rumbled and turned away and headed for the fridge.

Ruby closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer. Dear God, not this one.
Please,
not this one, for his capacity to enchant was too high, and the likelihood of him giving much of himself seemed alarmingly low.

When Damon returned from his foray in the fridge, he had a bowl of ice cubes and a tin of caviar. The ice-bowl went between them on the counter and the caviar got upended on top of it. Next, he opened a packet of breadsticks and set it next to the rest.

‘Eat,’ he said. ‘And remind me again why you’re not going to sleep with me, apart from the fact that you work for my father, need to keep your job and consider me a habitual liar. I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t seem enough.’

Rather than answer, Ruby sampled the food on offer. A pause where pause was
needed. An ice cube topped with caviar, and a cool and salty slide. She crunched down on the ice and let the textures mingle. ‘Mmm.’ Good manners prevented speech, so another
mmm
would have to be enough.

‘Good, isn’t it? Much like we’d be.’ Sighing, Damon picked up a breadstick, loaded it with eggs and held it to her lips. ‘The caviar usually runs out before the ice does. Say
aah.’

‘Ahumm.’ The breadstick went in loaded and came out clean. A husky oath filled the air.

Damon’s.

‘Give me a reason not to, Ruby,’ and his voice came low and guttural and slid down her spine like a lover’s hand. ‘Give me a reason to back off, or I swear I’ll be inside of you before the day is through.’

Ruby swallowed hard and attempted to marshal her thoughts. ‘I work for your father,’ she said weakly.

‘Not good enough.’

‘I’ll lose my job.’

‘Says who?’

‘I don’t know you.’

‘Would you like to?’

‘Would you let me?’ Finally an objection
she could follow through on. ‘Can you answer even the most casual of questions honestly?’ ‘I can try.’

‘All right. Where were you this time last week? What were you doing? Just the briefest details of your day—that’s all I’m asking for.’

She saw him shut down. Watched his eyes as he sifted back through time, closing compartments as he went. Not that. Not that. Can’t tell her that; and his reasons for not telling her were his own. He didn’t even offer up an excuse.

‘Okay, different question,’ she said. ‘Where will you be in a week’s time? Snapshot that day.’

But he couldn’t seem to do that either. ‘Most people would be able to answer those questions, Damon,’ she said quietly. ‘But then, you’re not most people, are you? I may have been wrong about you being after my father, but I wasn’t wrong about the rest of it. About the way you keep the details of your life to yourself. About there being so much of you that you cannot, or will not, share. Not with strangers. Not with anyone.’ Finally he swore. One word.

Not something they’d be doing anytime soon.

‘Glad we cleared that up,’ she said carefully, no flirting in her now, just a pitiful and aching need for something that had never been on offer. ‘I need honesty from a lover, Damon. I need to taste the truth in you, even if all we’d be doing is having mindless, no-strings-attached sex. It’s a requirement of mine.’ She dredged up a smile from somewhere.

‘Make an exception,’ he cajoled gruffly. ‘For me.’ Nothing like the penetrating gaze of a powerfully persuasive man to make a woman’s mind waver. ‘I hear what you’re saying, Ruby. I swear I will not lie to you. Ever. I’ll just …’

‘Not answer,’ she finished for him softly. ‘I know how it works, Damon. And for what it’s worth you tempt me. So much. But what you’re offering … it’s not enough.’

Damon stayed broodingly silent.

‘I should go,’ she said awkwardly, and then as reality intruded, ‘I need to do the birds first.’

‘I’ll do them.’

‘Thank you.’ Ruby made it to the door and into her shoes before job necessities made
her turn to Damon once more. ‘I’ve arranged to collect Poppy from the airport at three and bring her here.’

‘I’ll get her.’

‘Lena gets in at six.’

‘I’ll get her too.’

This time Ruby managed to make it through the doorway, shutting the apartment door behind her with a quiet click. She drew a shuddering breath and closed her eyes briefly, before putting one foot determinedly in front of the other as she headed for the lift.

He wanted too much from her. Too much for too little.

There was nothing left to say.

H
EATSTROKE
and insanity. That was what Ruby attributed those scorching kisses to. It was hot. She was insane. Simple.

Exactly what Damon West was, apart from obsessively secretive, was still open to interpretation.

Nothing but a memory, she told herself sternly. That was what she needed him to be. A vivid and beautiful memory that a woman could look to every so often. A memory to accompany a wistful sigh, a tiny half-smile and a harmless game of what-if.

What if he had been that little bit more open with her?

What if she’d made an exception for him?

Ruby had the feeling that, in the years to come, quite a nice little fantasy would follow on from those particular thoughts. Some of the pleasure and none of the pain. Bargain.

But there was no bargain to be had in her encounter with him today. Just heaviness and no small measure of regret.

With the day split wide-open and no work to fill it with, Ruby headed back to the office. To the desk she didn’t deserve and the job that took her two hours a day to do, when she was being paid for eight.

‘Is Russell in?’ she asked Bea, Russell’s proper PA—the one with her finger on the pulse of his business commitments, not his social ones.

Bea nodded, and briefly lifted her gaze from the computer screen to favour Ruby with a laserlike stare. Bea was—without a doubt—ten times more imposing than Russell could ever hope to be. Not that anyone mentioned it.

‘Is he free?’

Another nod and a half-smile this time. ‘Go on in.’

Russell West did not cut a particularly fatherly figure, never mind that his hair was grey and the creases on his face had been there a while. He did cut an authoritative figure. ‘Russell, may I have a moment?’

‘What can I do for you, Ruby?’

‘You can accept my resignation.’ One
didn’t beat around the bush with Russell West. Time was money. A great deal of money. ‘I’d like to finish up in the New Year, once we get your major social commitments out of the way.’

‘You mean the Chinese New Year?’

‘Nice try. I mean mid-January.’

‘Why?’ Russell leaned back in his chair, trusting his imposing office surroundings to work to his advantage, which they probably would have had she not been in and out of offices just as grand as this one all her life.

‘Bottom line? The job’s not big enough. I feel like I’m taking money for nothing.’

‘The company’s profit margin has gone up thirty-six per cent since you signed on, Ruby. That’s hardly nothing.’

‘Your social networking strategy needed some work, that’s all. But that was always going to be more of a consultant’s gig than an ongoing role. My work here is done. Nowadays, I’m just filling in time.’

‘You’re welcome to stay on, Ruby. You know that.’

‘I do know that.’ She smiled fondly at the older man. ‘And I can’t thank you enough for giving me work when I needed it. When no one else would. But I want to see if there’s
still room for me in the world of law. Even if I have to work gratis for a while until I get the necessary accreditation and experience to go into a particular field. There’s family law. International law. Defence law. Fields where my father’s supposed transgressions won’t—or shouldn’t—reflect back on me. After that, I’ll look towards establishing my own business. It’s a solid plan, don’t you think?’

‘Well, it’s a solid thought,’ he said dryly. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it a plan. Generally a plan requires details.’

‘I’m working on it,’ she said simply.

‘Do you need start-up capital?’

‘Are you offering it?’

Russell steepled his hands, and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Yes.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because of your former friendship with my father?’

‘Because I have every confidence in Ruby Maguire’s ability to succeed.’

‘Oh.’ Suddenly Ruby’s big-girl voice deserted her. ‘You’re very kind.’

‘I prefer to use the word
astute.
Okay, Ruby, resignation accepted. Let Bea know when you want to finish up. And, Ruby, I
realise it’s late notice but I do hope you’ll join me and my family for a meal over this Christmas break. Say, tomorrow night or even Christmas Day if you prefer?’

‘Russell, thank you, but—’

‘Christmas is a time for family, I agree,’ he interrupted gruffly. ‘But when family isn’t around you make do. You’ve already met Damon, and I’ve no doubt the girls will enjoy your company. Try making do with us.’

‘I—’

‘Make it Christmas Eve? That way you can join us at the restaurant. You booked for five people, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘We’ll swing by your apartment and pick you up at quarter to seven.’ ‘No, I—’

But Russell and steamroller tactics were old friends. ‘Excellent,’ he said and offered up a small smile. ‘Join us, Ruby. There’s plenty of room at our table. We have family missing this year too.’

Damon met Poppy at the arrival gate and together they hit an airport bar and settled down to wait for Lena. No point dropping Poppy off at the apartment, according to
Poppy, and, seeing as it was Poppy’s jet lag they were juggling, Damon went with whatever made his sister happy. A bottle of mineral water and an order of mini spring rolls would hold them. A chance to talk to Poppy alone wouldn’t hurt either.

‘Have you heard from Jared?’ she wanted to know as they settled into the comfiest seats they could find, and Damon watched a little bit of the light go out of his sister’s eyes when he answered no.

‘Do you know where he is?’ she said next. Different question altogether.

‘Not yet, but I think Lena was right and that Jared’s working a job for someone in ASIS. I found a three-month-old file that has Jared’s employee number embedded in it but other than that it’s fully encrypted. It needs translating. Or decoding. Possibly both. Want to give it a shot?’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s probably not a piece of paper you want to go waving around the corridors of Academia.’

‘I gathered that,’ she said lightly. ‘It’s probably not something you’d want to trust
anyone
with.’

Poppy propped her elbow on the table and
her chin in her hand. ‘You really don’t want to give it to me, do you?’

‘I really don’t.’ It went against every instinct Damon possessed to drag Poppy into his world of subterfuge and secrets. ‘And don’t trust computers. Even yours.’

‘Are you always this paranoid?’

‘I’m entitled.’ Damon sipped his wine and considered his words. ‘This one’s playing out a little too close to home for comfort, Poppy. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. We don’t know what Jared’s got himself into, or who’s running him. Time to be careful.’

‘I’ll be careful,’ said Poppy quietly.

By the time Lena’s plane touched down humour had been restored and Damon and Poppy had vacated the bar in favour of waiting for Lena at the arrival gates.

When Lena did finally emerge, she did it from a customs side door, meaning that customs had processed her separately, and she walked with the aid of a stick and the speed of a ninety-year-old. Her once gamine face now looked gaunt and the glaze in her eyes told him that pain ruled her these days. An airport employee walked beside her, towing a suitcase, and the relief on his face as Lena spotted them and waved was palpable.

So much for the full recovery Lena had been spouting about over the phone for the past two weeks.

‘Miss West preferred not to avail herself of our wheelchair services,’ said the airport employee, and with an almost-salute and a harried smile he handed the luggage off to Damon and disappeared back the way he’d come.

‘Told you I could walk,’ said Lena into the silence that followed, and Damon drew her silently into his arms for a hug, horrified anew by his sister’s frailty and the quiet terror he saw in Poppy’s eyes as she stared at her sister.

‘You look wonderful,’ said Lena as Damon released her. ‘Both of you. It’s so good to see you.’

More ‘you look wonderfuls’ and none of them true, followed by ‘how was your flight?’ and then came the question Damon really didn’t want to answer. ‘Have you heard from Jared?’

‘No,’ he murmured. ‘Nothing.’

‘Did you look into finding him?’

‘Yeah,’ he said gruffly, and with a warning glance at Poppy. ‘Nothing yet.’

Poppy picked up on his silent cue and
didn’t add to the conversation, but he could tell by her frown that they’d be discussing what to tell Lena and what not to tell her later.
Nothing
being Damon’s preference by far.

‘I’ll bring the car around,’ he said and nodded towards the nearest door and fled with the luggage before either of his sisters could stop him. He didn’t cope well with the battering Lena had taken. He couldn’t look at her without remembering just how close they’d come to losing her, and if he knew his response was childish and unhelpful, well … Jared’s had been worse.

Jared had damn near lost his mind when the doctor had told them that if Lena lived, chances were she wouldn’t be able to walk.

Lena had been under Jared’s command when she’d been injured—a simple recon of a suspected biological weapons lab in East Timor had gone badly wrong. The last thing Lena remembered was heavy crossfire, sticky blood, and lying in the dirt and looking up at the sky. God only knew what Jared remembered about the way things had gone down, or what he held himself responsible for.

Jared had haunted the hospital until Lena
had regained consciousness. He’d told Lena that the mission had been compromised from the start and that he had some business to attend to. He’d told her he’d be back as soon as he could.