Melting Ms Frost (5 page)

‘And if I don’t ignore them?’

She looked at him for a moment. ‘If you’re prepared to apologise and ensure that you’ll never behave in such a personally offensive manner again –’ she paused as though the next words were sticking to her tongue and leaving a bitter taste there ‘– then, officially, matters need go no further.’

It wasn’t hard to tell which outcome she was hoping for. She wanted him gone.

‘Ah, I see. Well, I refuse to apologise for something I found so enjoyable. And I won’t be made a liar by promising not to do it again when I have every intention of doing so – at every given opportunity. It’s too much fun watching you get your tight white panties in a knot.’

And that put the first real crack in Annabel Frost’s tightly held control. A flash of temper warmed those irises before she gritted her teeth. ‘I’ve just told you not to talk to me that way,’ she ground out. ‘Leave my underwear out of it!’

‘Now there’s a fine idea.’ He beamed, unable to resist jumping into the mile-wide opening she’d unwittingly given him. ‘Why don’t you come in tomorrow without any?’

Her eyes snapped wide and her cheeks reddened. ‘You’re perverted!’

Oh, if only she knew.

‘Why, thank you, Ms Frost.’ He wondered how warm that gorgeous, flushing skin of hers would feel to his touch. Wondered whether she’d ever accept his
perversions
and let him draw the same pretty glow from elsewhere on her body.

‘And disgusting,’ she spat, almost as if she’d read his thoughts, although the sudden rapid rise and fall of her chest suggested she was at least as excited as repulsed by his words.

‘Careful now,’ he warned her in a dead gentle voice. ‘Insults will only lead to punishment.’ He noted her flinch as he stressed the final word, the reaction to the mention of discipline almost as interesting as the one she’d showed last night.

‘You wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me.’

‘Oh, I’d dare to use more than a finger,’ he parried, enjoying the clash of wills. ‘Much more. There’s a whole world of erotic torment I’d like to introduce you to, Annabel.’

‘You might find that difficult,’ she sneered, but he detected an underlying tremble in her tone. ‘Seeing as I’ll never let you touch me.’

He flashed her a knowing smile. ‘Now here’s the funny thing.’ Resting his elbows on the bar, he leant towards her, catching the faintest tease of her scent intensified by the rising heat of her skin. ‘I don’t need to touch you to make you mine. Soon, all I’ll have to do is look at you across the room to make you gasp and shiver and know you belong to me.’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’ Despite her continuing bravado, she retreated a step. ‘Even if I didn’t find you obnoxious I have a rule not to get involved with staff.’

‘Rules were meant to be broken.’

‘Not this one, I can assure you. I’m not
yours
’ – she emphasised the word with contempt – ‘and never will be.’

Aidan pulled back, straightening and changing his smile to one of ‘if you say so’, which infuriated his sparring partner to the point that he could almost hear her mentally stamping her foot.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded, unable to hide the snap of petulance in her tone. The sound of it shot straight to the centre of him. Honestly, he hadn’t felt so susceptible to a woman’s temper in ages. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find his control in tatters. No doubt about it, Annabel Frost knew how to push his buttons.

Just like he was getting to know how to push hers.

‘Apart from wanting to get to possess every inch of you? Because I recognise a need in you that I understand and know how to fulfil.’

To her credit, she was quick to rally and stand her ground. ‘How presumptuous.’

He gave an easy half-shrug. ‘I’m a good judge of character, Annabel.’

‘Really? Well, do share your expertise and tell me what you think this supposed
need
is, then.’

He paused for a moment, letting her sarcasm wash over him, watching her bristle as her discomfort grew. ‘All this attitude.’ He swept a hand up and down, the gesture encompassing her from head to toe. ‘And the hard-nosed face you present to the world, it’s part of a cover to hide your true nature, to bury the desires you’re too afraid to admit to.’ He could see a spark of wariness flare in her eyes, sense her bracing herself, ready for denial and defence. ‘That yearning you have to surrender control, the need you feel to let someone else take charge, care for you, see to your pleasure.’

For a split second her eyes grew huge, telling him she knew exactly what he was talking about. God, that flash of sweet vulnerability shot a bolt of fire all the way down his spine and into his groin, and made him want to bend her over the bar right then and fuck her until she was soft and pliant and delirious with pleasure.

‘A doormat?’ she spat, currently about as soft and pliant as a steel spike, and every bit as sharp. ‘That’s what you think I am?’ The laugh she gave him was hollow, dismissive. ‘You must be blind.’

‘I can see perfectly, thanks. Right through the bratty façade to the strong, capable woman beneath. Doormats don’t do it for me.’

‘And arsehole misogynist control freaks don’t do it for me. Sounds like we’ve got a terminal case of incompatibility.’ The triumphant note in her voice said she thought she’d got him – thought she’d won. That false sense of security left him hiding a fierce grin. God, she was fun to play with.

‘Now that’s where you’re wrong,’ he said, taking her high colour and glittering eyes as proof of how much she was also thriving on the exchange – even if she didn’t realise it. He wondered how long it had been since a man had done her the courtesy of standing up to her, of trying to engage with the real Annabel Frost. ‘If you think I don’t know that your body is every bit as fired up as your brain at what we’re doing here, think again.’

She looked about ready to explode – with anger, and frustration, and a heat he reckoned she’d rather die than admit to. And he knew once again he’d called it right.

Instead of letting rip at him as she so obviously wanted to do, Annabel glanced across the room at the remaining customers and contented herself with muttering, ‘Insufferable bastard,’ under her breath, providing him with the perfect excuse to turn things up a notch.

‘I’ve given you fair warning, Annabel. You speak to me like that again and I’ll come at you.’ It was the first time he’d let his tone drop all the way to its deepest register and he noted that the stern words hit their target. The shift in her demeanour was subtle but instant as some long buried instinct pricked up its ears to the underlying sense of power. ‘And regardless of where or when or who’s watching, I
will
put my hands on you then and leave you in no doubt as to who belongs to whom.’

Just as well she didn’t know the trouble he was having not putting his hands on her right there as she stood gaping, those luscious lips doing the same cute fish impression they’d done the previous evening as she tried and failed to find her voice. Now he wanted nothing more than to push her to her knees and watch his hardening erection inch into her mouth, stretching that perfect ‘o’ wide until her wet heat encased him and her lipstick left a brand like a scarlet cock ring.

Annabel, it seemed, had different ideas. Apparently considering that retreat would be the better part of valour, she turned her stiff back on him and strode away. But not before Aidan had noted the darkening of those green eyes as her pupils dilated with desire.

Jesus
. He was sure his own pupils were in much the same state as he watched her go, tamping down hard on the urge to vault right over the bar and give chase. The force of his need thrummed through his bloodstream, making his fingertips, toes and every damned thing in between ache with each thud of his heart.

At least now, after another intriguing exchange, he was certain he’d been right. Under that solid cold layer of ice, the real Annabel Frost was a firebrand. And even though he’d only begun chipping away at the outer edges of the frigid surface, Aidan could already feel himself scorched by flames of lust – flames that would need the hell beaten out of them once he made it home.

There he’d stretch out on his bed and heighten the self-service experience by fantasising that she was there with him, red hair tangling around her porcelain nakedness as she begged and writhed against the bonds holding her spread-eagled and helpless across his sheets.

Annabel was beyond relieved to find the bar area devoid of antagonistic Irish libertines when she arrived at Cluny’s the next day, much later than usual and failing to convince herself that her tardiness had anything to do with avoidance tactics.

Aidan Flynn was a problem. A big one that needed sorting ASAP.

Having generously given him the benefit of the doubt the previous evening, she’d ended up getting her efforts flung back in her face without a hint of remorse. The man was intolerable. An immoral maverick who should never have been employed – certainly
wouldn’t
have been employed if she’d been given her usual say in matters. If only Richard Landon hadn’t chosen to act without consulting her, she wouldn’t now be the one left to pay the price for somebody else’s rushed mistake.

To add insult to injury, she wasn’t even allowed the satisfaction of kicking Mr Flynn’s degenerate arse straight back into whatever gutter he’d crawled from. Instead she was legally obligated to follow a strict set of steps aimed at protecting his rights even though it was obvious he wasn’t interested in listening or conforming to the accepted rules.

Well to hell with waiting until he had exhausted each and every one of his statutory rights as he seemed to be intent on doing. She wanted him gone. Sooner, rather than later. Fortunately, tonight was the night that Richard Landon was due to host a pre-Christmas dinner for a table full of friends as he did every year, and although he’d made it clear that these occasions were for pleasure, never business, Annabel wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to lodge a quiet complaint in his ear. He was a shrewd businessman who understood that his restaurant had a public reputation to uphold. She was sure he’d be horrified to learn that he’d hired such an objectionable individual, a man who didn’t seem to respect authority or care less about the consequences of his questionable actions. If she was lucky, she’d be able to get him to agree to Aidan Flynn’s instant suspension while the attendant formalities were dealt with.

Pushing through the door into the kitchens, she barely registered the sudden exaggerated burst of activity from the full complement of staff already present – a sight that would normally have filled her with satisfaction but today just highlighted the extent of her distraction as she passed through with barely a glance to either side.

Shit
. She couldn’t afford such lack of focus. Tonight of all nights. Familiar with her boss’ exacting expectations, she really should be busy cracking her whip to ensure that every last detail of the evening’s food and service was beyond reproach.

Shoving through the fire door leading to the staff facilities and office, she strode down the short corridor pulling off her overcoat and determining to get her head back in the game. All she needed to do was play it cool, get through the next few hours and then this whole nasty episode would be behind—

Annabel froze in the act of swinging open the office door, her grip tightening on the handle as she noticed that the internal door leading to the cellar was ajar. Her gaze flicked instantly to the filing cabinet beside her desk, where the drawer containing the spare set of keys sat open. Obvious sounds of movement and a stream of appreciative, softly-accented mutterings floated up the stairs from the room below.

Bloody, bloody man!
What did he think he was up to now? Her simmering resentment flashed to a hot, fast boil. Leaving the door to swing closed behind her, she marched across the small room, pausing at the top of the stairs.

‘What the hell are you doing down there?’

‘Annabel?’ came a cheery reply. ‘Hello. I was thinking maybe you weren’t coming in today.’

Whether it was the nonchalant tone or the snide reference to her timekeeping that had her curling her hands into fists she didn’t know. Who did he think he was? And how was she supposed to keep a cool head when it felt like the top of it was about to blow off? Tossing her bag and coat onto the desk, she stomped down the stairs.

‘I said, what do you think you’re doing? The cellar is off limits to unauthorised staff. Who gave you the key?’

‘Well now, the boss phoned about this dinner he’s got on tonight for a few of his cronies he’s wanting to impress.’

That stopped her just as she stepped down onto the dusty concrete floor. By the light of the single bare bulb hanging from the cobwebbed rafters, Annabel spotted the bane of her life over by the far wall. ‘Mr Landon phoned?’

‘He did.’ Fiddling about on the wooden bench top built into the bottle racking system that spanned the entire wall, Aidan Flynn didn’t even have the decency to turn and face her. ‘And as you weren’t available, we discussed what he wanted from his fine, private collection here and he told me where to find the key.’

Oh, that grated. She glared at that broad back, at the glossy tangle of black hair curling down to his collar, her teeth grinding and her hands itching to reach out and – what exactly? Clamp around that thick neck … thump between those wide shoulders?

‘Well I’m here now,’ she snapped, probably nowhere near as disturbed by her violent thoughts as she ought to be. ‘So you can leave it with me and get back upstairs to the bar.’

‘Not to worry.’ He turned then and strode towards her holding a tray laden with bottles. ‘I’m all done.’

Annabel fumed to see his sleeves rolled up to the elbows again. For fuck’s sake, between that and the unruly bed-hair, did the guy have no idea how to even present himself properly for work?

Instead of heading straight up the stairs, he stopped in front of her. ‘I just need you to take this for a minute,’ he said, pushing the tray at her so quickly that Annabel had no option but to grasp it or let the lot fall to the floor.