Perfect Stranger (11 page)

I left Jordan and his team with Adam, for the next set of presentations, and slipped back to my office.
Holy shit.
I wanted to dance on my desk and punch the air. Never in a thousand years would I have expected Jordan to be here. I needed to share my news with someone.

Jenny.

O.M.G. You’ll never guess who turned up at ComCo today, for a site visit. Jordan. The guy I met in Exeter.

She didn’t reply straight away, so I carried on with another text.

I’m going for drinks with him tonight. Hope he’s not some creepy stalker who’ll toss my body parts in the canal. Lol. Only joking. I’m so excited. Wish me luck! xoxo

It was a few minutes before she called me. “Mr. One Night Stand wants a replay? I think you should steal his hotel key and force him to stay in bed with you for the weekend. Pick a decent hotel, though. One with good room service.”

“
Jen
.” I tried to sound outraged, and failed when I giggled instead. “We’re going for a drink. That’s all.” Maybe.

“
Ha.
Like I believe that.”

There was something odd about her voice. She sounded muffled and a little croaky, as though she was trying hard to sound upbeat. “Jen, you okay?” I asked.

“Of course. It’s just… well… I’m stressed. It’s nothing.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“I’m being silly. Mid-afternoon blues. Must be my time of the month, or something.” Her sigh was loud on the line. “Do you want an emergency date-rescue call tonight? I can call you with a valid reason to go home, if you need it?”

“No, I’m all right.” I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. “I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Have a good weekend.”

I couldn’t wait for the afternoon’s work to be done. At my suggestion, Jordan booked into the quirky Victoria & Albert Hotel, on the edge of the city center, and I’d meet him there.

First I had to suffer a debriefing with Adam, who dissected the visit and pointed out all the things ComCo could have done better. It was a struggle to focus, and he noticed my inattention. “Am I keeping you from your weekend? This tender is important, Kate. Do I need to remind you?”

“Sorry, Adam.” I glanced at my watch. It was already five. “Do you mind if we finish? My sister is staying for a few days, and I’d like to get home.”

He cocked his head to one side, and I braced myself for an argument. Instead, he said, “That’s fine. Enjoy your weekend.”

That was it? I dashed back to my office for my things, and then escaped. I made a quick call to Sophie from my car, to tell her I might be late and why. Her response was similar to Jenny’s, and I drove the short distance to the V&A in a state of high excitement. Going home to shower and change would have been good, but if Jordan was only here for the weekend, I didn’t want to waste a minute of it.

He stood in the hotel lobby, gazing at the vast expanse of exposed brickwork with a bemused expression. “Hey.” His lips curved up when he saw me. “This feels as though I’ve stepped back in time a hundred years or so. I keep expecting Sherlock Holmes to walk around the corner.”

“I’m pretty sure this was built as a cotton mill, and they’ve tried to keep the industrial feel in the restoration. The rooms are supposed to be nice.”

Jordan took a step toward me, his eyes gleaming. “I didn’t notice. I dumped my bag and came down here, to wait for you.”

“Adam kept me late. He wanted to talk about the visit today.” That reminded me there was something I had to clear up with Jordan. I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “I can’t afford any conflict of interest. With you and the tender.”

He nodded. “I should explain. I came up here as an observer, and nothing else. I have no input into the process. I just used it as an excuse.”

God, his drawling accent was adorable. “An excuse for what?”

With another step, he moved so completely into my personal space I could be wearing him as an overcoat. He took my hands, tangling our fingers together. “Do you really need to ask?”

A delicious shiver ran down my spine. “What do you want to do? I mean, go for dinner or something?”

“Uh huh. Dinner sounds good. You know, this is my first visit to Manchester. Do you wanna show me something of your city?”

It was another lovely summer evening, and I didn’t want to go somewhere full of ComCo people. It had to be a venue we could sit outside, with a half-decent view, and within walking distance of the hotel. Dukes 92 was perfect. The sprawling pub had the dual attractions of being set beside the pretty Bridgwater canal, and having live music most nights.

A local band was setting up on the outside stage, as we arrived, and we took a table at the back of the sun-dappled courtyard. I leaned back in the rustic wooden chair and rummaged in my bag for sunglasses. I took a fierce pride in the way the crowd parted to let Jordan through to the bar, and at the admiring looks from the other women there. He had a presence, an unshakeable confidence in himself, and I basked in his reflected glow.

I saw him bantering with the barmaid and smiling to a young woman he bumped into, and then I took pleasure in watching him striding back to our table with the drinks.

He was here with me. It still hadn’t sunk in. I felt as though I’d conjured him out of thin air, and he might disappear again at any moment.

I thought I saw Adam at the bar, but then the crowd shifted and he disappeared. This was an unlikely place to see my boss, and I wasn’t going to let him spoil my good mood.

Jordan placed my white wine spritzer on the table, removed my sunglasses, and whisked them away into the top pocket of his suit.

“Hey,” I squawked. “They’re my RayBans.”

“Temper. Temper.” He spoke in a sing-song voice, teasing me. “It’s not fair if you hide behind these.” He patted his pocket. “Don’t worry. You can have them back later.”

He settled down and looked at me, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “What I think we should do is backtrack a little.” His intent gaze fixed on my face. “We jumped forward and skipped several valuable stages in a relationship.”

My heart jumped. Relationship? He said the
R
word, unprompted, and on our first date. Well, second date.

“What stages?” I asked.

“Getting to know each other.”

I tried to look severe. “What do you want to know?”

He shrugged, his gaze still focused on me. “Like who you are. Where you live. What you do in your spare time. If you’re kind to small animals. What music…”

“
Enough
.” I took a sip of my drink. “Should I start?”

“Go for it.”

There was a pause while I collected my thoughts and wondered where to begin. I would like time to stop, so I could savor being here, with him by my side. This might all end in tears and probably would, but at that precise moment, when everything was new and shiny, anything was possible. It was magical.

“You know my name. I’m twenty-nine, and I live in Didsbury—about two miles away in the suburbs. I’m the Operations Manager at ComCo, but you know that already.” I ran my fingers through my hair, not sure where to go next.

“My boyfriend moved out, and I haven’t seen him since, nor do I intend to. I like all sorts of food, but have to be careful about what I eat, or I’ll be fat as a pig.” I paused, and Jordan took one of my hands and idly caressed it as I spoke. The contact sent a shock wave through my body, and a warm tingling started in the pit of my stomach.

“I have a younger sister, Sophie, but our parents are dead. Dad was in the army, but he wanted me to have stability rather than move from base to base, and so I went to boarding school and spent most of my holidays with Gran. Dad was killed in an incident when Sophie was ten, and Mum died a few years later. Car accident.”

I took another sip of my drink and pushed past the wave of melancholy that threatened. “I like living in the city, for the shops, theater, and cinema,” I said. “I listen to nineties music, mainly rock and Indie. I love Oasis and Event Horizon, but I’m not big on classical, and I hate opera.” I squinted at him, at the sun setting behind his head. “Did I miss anything?”

Jordan nodded. “Okay. You know my name. I’m thirty and an only child. My mother died when I was a baby. My father is now on his fourth wife, and while I’d like to think he’s never found anyone to match up to my mother, it’s left me with a rather jaundiced view of marriage. I work for my father’s company, in case you’re too polite to ask.” He paused, took a quick slug of beer, and then continued.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I move around too much to cultivate a proper relationship. I’ve spent most of the last ten years in Europe. I like all kinds of music—even opera. I enjoy running and working out in the gym.” He smiled. “I eat almost everything, and I have a very good appetite.”

“I remember.” I smiled at the memory of the breakfast and dinner we shared.

We sat quietly, but it was a companionable silence. I relaxed in my chair, content to watch him and absorb some of the atmosphere of the evening around us. The band hadn’t started yet, but the pub was busy and noisy, the sounds of city traffic rumbling in the background. I smelled food, from the tapas bar across the street, and I inhaled deeply. I loved the city and that peculiarly dusty smell that was always present.

The next hour flew by. Jordan fetched more drinks, and we danced a little in the now-shadowed courtyard. It was getting busy and noisy, and I was hungry. I suggested we get some dinner. I hoped he’d be the dessert course.

I waited for Rob in the usual place, but he was nowhere to be found. In my head, I replayed how Cade looked at me. His hand on my arm. The concern in his voice. The way he cared.

If we stayed in the meeting room much longer, I’d have broken down in a flood of tears, and there was no way I’d let that happen at work. Instead, we drank our coffees while I composed myself, and then we returned to our desks. Cade agreed to time his departure after mine in the evening, but this was a temporary measure at best.

I had to tell Rob I now worked with Cade. I couldn’t spend the next six months in fear.

Common sense came to my rescue. I wasn’t afraid of Rob. He loved me and wanted the best for me—for us. I’d make sure he understood how much I loved him and had no eyes for anyone else.

Not even Cade?
It was a dark whisper inside my head.

No. That’d be silly. He was a friend.

I forced myself to think of something else.

Kate and her returning one-night stand—that was so romantic. She’d have an amazing weekend. The sound of a horn jarred my thoughts, and I looked up to see Rob’s car approaching.

“Hi.” He smiled when I climbed into the car, and then he leaned across and gave me a kiss. “You look upset. What’s up?”

I bought a few moments to settle my thoughts, while I fastened my seatbelt. He was always so in tune with my moods. Rob noticed everything, and that was a good thing. Right? It meant he was observant.

“I’m fine. It’s that time of the month, I think.” That wasn’t a lie. My cycle was erratic at best and had been for years. I’d tried regulating it with the pill, but my blood pressure had rocketed to dangerous levels, and my GP warned me to stay away from hormone-based contraception. Rob might not like using condoms, but he didn’t grumble too much.

“Aw, dumpling. The sooner we get out of this flat and have a place of our own, the sooner you can have a baby. That’ll help.”

I managed a weak smile and a swift change of subject. “Any plans for the weekend?”

“Yes, for once.” Rob grinned at me as he drove. “Malcolm’s invited us to his house again, seeing as you couldn’t make it last time.”

“That’s nice. When?”

“Tomorrow night, for dinner.” He reached over and squeezed my knee. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

He was in such a great mood, maybe now was the time to break the news about Cade. Or not. It’d spoil things. I’d wait for a better opportunity. Perhaps tomorrow night? Rob would have to keep his temper in check, in front of his boss.

As plans went, it was weak but the best I had.

The street was cool and quiet, after the noisy bustle of the tapas restaurant. Kate’s hand felt good in mine, but I wanted more contact. I let go and slipped my arm around her waist. After a moment’s hesitation, she snuggled against me. Ending the evening here wouldn’t be good, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

“You okay?” I dropped a soft kiss on her hair.

“Mmm huh. Tired, I think.”

My heart sank. “Do you have plans for the weekend?”

“Sorry. I’m out tomorrow.”

I figured it was time to admit defeat—for tonight, at any rate. “Dinner when you get back?” I asked. “It’ll be late. I’m going to visit Gran.” She stopped and turned to face me. Was this the brush-off? “I don’t have to go home tonight, though.” A smile played on her lips, her eyes wide and dark under the artificial streetlights.

Her words sank in. My cock, half-hard all evening, woke up fully. Inside my head, I punched the air in triumph.

“What are we waiting for?” I swung her up in my arms and crushed her to my chest, before stealing a heated kiss. “I’m gonna tie you to the damned bed this time, if I have to. I don’t want you running out on me again.”

Suddenly we were kissing. I relaxed my hold, and she found her footing, our lips locked. The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. Her perfume wrapped around me, reminding me of the night we’d spent together.

I couldn’t hold back my groan. “Kate, if I don’t take my hands off you right now, I’m gonna to be making love to you here in this doorway.”

Thank God it was a short walk to the hotel. Ten minutes later, she followed me into my room and leaned against the door. Was she nervous again? I was hungry for her. The fantasy of falling onto the bed with her, ripping off our clothes, was tempting, but not when she looked uncomfortable.

I’d give her a minute to gather herself. I dimmed the lights to a soft glow, took off my shoes, and draped my suit jacket over the back of a chair. With luck, she wouldn’t notice my rampant hard-on.

I glanced at her. “Drink? I can order champagne if you’d like?”

Her mouth curved up at the corners, and she took a step toward me. She nibbled on her lower lip and made me want to do the same. “I was drunk last time. I want to be sober tonight. I’d like to take things more slowly this time.”

Okay. She wanted to take it slow? I could do slow. Maybe.

I’d only been waiting a couple weeks to see her, half crazy at the prospect of being rejected again. What I wanted was to bury myself in her and never come out again.

But I’d try. For Kate, I’d try anything.

I started with slow butterfly kisses across her face and gentle nibbles along the back of her neck. She trembled, dropping her head forward, as I grazed the skin with my teeth. Yes, she liked that.

I undressed her piece by piece, not allowing her to touch me. If she did, it’d be
game over
, and that wasn’t an option.

“My turn first,” I whispered. “I feel like it’s Christmas morning and I’m unwrapping my presents.” The silky top made a soft noise when I dropped it on a chair. The zipper of her skirt was loud in the quiet room. I unfastened it slowly, before helping her step out of the puddle of fabric.

Tiny cream lace panties outlined her slim hips, and a matching bra clung to her breasts. She was pure, unadulterated sex on legs. A prim, demure business suit with an angelic body underneath.

Remembering how she enjoyed me going down on her last time, I led her to the sofa and encouraged her to lie down. I tugged down her panties, parted her legs, and kissed her there again, pushing my tongue inside her wetness. God, she tasted good, slick and wet with desire. She just about blew my mind. I followed with my fingers, pressing and circling, finding the exact point where she whimpered helplessly and convulsed beneath me.

It was more than I could cope with. My cock ached and pushed against my slacks, demanding to be let out. I rose to her mouth and kissed her hard, planning to guide her to the bed.

Kate nipped my lower lip, and her brown eyes flashed, as she whispered, “My turn now.”

As long as her turn involved me getting naked, I was happy. And it did. She dragged at my slacks and boxers and dropped them to the floor, to join the random pile of discarded clothing.

I found myself pushed back against the sofa, with Kate sitting in my lap, her oh-so-pert breasts in my face while she tugged and struggled with my shirt buttons. It was easier for me to take it off.
At last.
I closed my mouth around one breast, then the other, alternating my teasing. Her nipples were firm under my tongue, and I worshipped them with the devotion they deserved.

Kate dragged her fingers through my hair, the tips of her nails catching my scalp. “Condoms?” She gasped the word and brought me back to reality for a moment.

“My wallet.” I was prepared tonight. I nodded at the little side table and watched as she reached across, to curl her fingers around the leather folds. Moments later, I was covered and ready for her. There was a blissful feeling of anticipation, then the sensation of her pushing hard down onto my cock and taking me inside.

She made little noises, her eyes half closed as she rode me. This time she set the pace, and I responded, driving into her as hard as she let me. Christ and all the saints, I was going to explode. I had to concentrate on something other than Kate, her breasts in my face, her wetness surrounding me. I focused on business for a minute—conjured up an image of the invoices awaiting my approval, the papers I needed to review—but it was no good.

Her head swayed left and right, and her hands made little fists on my shoulders. Her muscles tightened and squeezed me, and…
fuck
. I was close. Just before I came, she groaned and shattered in my arms. Sweet Jesus, she was beautiful. I couldn’t stop. Kissing her hard to muffle my cries, I burst into her, shuddering and panting, unable to think of anything but the unbelievable delight of her body.

There was sex. And then there was sex with Kate.