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Authors: Kathryn Taylor

Unbound (8 page)

BOOK: Unbound
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His arm is very close to my face and I can feel the warmth coming off his body. My gaze strays from his eyes to his lips, as if it had a life of its own. It’s only for a second, but a sigh escapes me before I can stop myself. His smile disappears and he grows serious and looks at me the way he did in the car, when I slid up against him. My chest is rising and falling and my pulse is racing, as I lose myself in his blue eyes. For a brief eternity or only a few seconds—I don’t know which—we stand there in front of each other. Then he lowers his arm.

“Well,” he lifts his glass, “here’s to successful teamwork—Grace.”

With a shock, I jolt out of my trance as he clinks his glass against mine.

“Yes. To successful teamwork,” I breathe, and wonder if this means that he wants me to call him by his first name too. But I’d better not try it, because I don’t want to make any more mistakes.

I watch in fascination at his Adam’s apple moving as he drinks. Then I realize that I am staring at him and I quickly bring my glass to my lips. But I lift it too quickly and as the sweet juice floods my mouth I choke and have to cough. I feel him slap me on the back as I try to get my breath back. Darn it, Grace, can’t you do anything without embarrassing yourself, when Jonathan Huntington’s in the vicinity?

“Is everything OK?”

When I lift my head, I can see the amused twinkle in his eyes. I make a face and nod.

“Yes, I’m fine now.”

He goes back into the room and puts his glass down on the sofa table.

“You’d better go and collect your things from downstairs and tell them that you’ll be working with me, up here, from now on. Then we’ll discuss things further,” he says and goes back over to his desk.

“Yes, well …see you shortly,” I say and head in the opposite direction, still a little stunned. “And—thanks.”

He’s standing behind his desk and just nods. I can’t see the expression in his eyes from here. “Hurry up. We have our first appointment in an hour.”

With burning cheeks and beating heart, I walk past the dark-haired woman and back to the elevator.

7

“He did what?” Annie is staring at me, completely stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

We’re standing in the kitchen because I wanted to talk to her alone. I’ve just told her the news.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” I say hopefully. In the elevator, I decided to take it for what it is—a unique opportunity which will certainly never happen again. “I obviously passed that test you were talking about yesterday.”

Annie shakes her head. “That’s a departmental matter, the boss has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh.” I thought I had it figured out because it seemed plausible to me. “He told me he had spoken to Mr. Renshaw and I’d made a good impression at the meeting yesterday, so I thought …”

Annie frowns. “Something’s not right about this, Grace.”

“But you said it yourself, I shouldn’t read too much into it,” I say, in my defense. “And, be honest, would you have turned down an offer like that?”

Annie purses her lips thoughtfully. “That’s just it. The offer is far too good to turn down.”

“Exactly,” I answer stubbornly. She’s making me uneasy and that annoys me. When she hears the sour note in my voice she looks at me apologetically.

“Grace, he’s never done anything like this before. We have interns here all the time but not one of them has had any personal contact with him, let alone been allowed to more or less work with him. It’s …odd. And besides …” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“Besides what?”

She looks at me almost pleadingly. “It’s just not right. Not when you already worship him so much. And don’t deny it, you do, I can tell. You were already a hopeless case when he brought you here from the airport.”

I can’t help thinking about the moment in the limousine, when I got so close to him. Luckily, Annie doesn’t know anything about that.

“Well, so what,” I say defensively.

“It’s not going to go well,” Annie insists, and her concerned look suddenly raises my ire. There’s probably nothing behind the gesture, and even if there were—would it be such a disaster if Jonathan Huntington was interested in me?

“So you’re completely ruling out the idea that he might actually like me, for whatever reason, are you?”

Annie withstands my angry stare. “In my experience, yes, that’s how it is.”

“Whose experience? Yours? Why don’t you just spit it out? Why is Jonathan Huntington so damned dangerous that we have to be so suspicious of him?”

Annie puts her mug away and puts an arm round my shoulders. She looks at me piercingly. “I just don’t want him to hurt you, OK?” “But he’s not doing anything to me—he’s giving me an opportunity.”

Annie lets go of me again, with a deep sigh. “Listen, perhaps I’m wrong. Of course it’s a great opportunity and it sounds fantastic. But don’t agree to anything you don’t want to do. Anything at all.” She looks up. “And don’t fall in love with him. Under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

“OK,” I say, although I’m not sure how I’ll be able to prevent that. Can’t a person fall in love, if they want to? “If you’ll leave me in peace.”

She smiles again at last and gives me a friendly shove. “At least you didn’t accept his offer of an apartment. You’ll be coming home with me in the evenings and I can make sure you don’t get up to any mischief.”

“You sound like my little sister,” I say, laughing because I’m happy she isn’t mad anymore. “She’s always worrying about me too.”

“She probably has good reason,” Annie replies. “And now get yourself back upstairs. You heard Veronica. The boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I hug her again. “See you this evening.”

“I’ll wait till you’ve finished upstairs,” she says, pointing a finger at the ceiling. “Then we can go home together. The boys and I have already lost one roommate after all, because she spent too much time on the management floor. We won’t let that happen again.”

I nod, guiltily. I know she means well—but I’m looking forward to spending the day with Jonathan Huntington, despite Annie’s warnings. I simply can’t help it.

We leave the kitchen together and—carrying my bag and coat this time—I make my way up to the very top floor, to the management.

***

When I arrive, the dark-haired woman is sitting at her desk again. I’m not sure if I can just go straight through to his office, so I slow down and look at her inquiringly. She smiles.

“I haven’t introduced myself yet,” she says, standing up to offer me her hand. “I’m Catherine Shepard. Welcome, Miss Lawson.”

“It’s a pleasure,” I answer and I’m not sure if she really finds it a pleasure too. She is smiling, it’s true, but she looks neutral and professional. I can’t tell what she really thinks of the fact that I’m here, and that makes me nervous.

“Can I go in?”

“Just a moment,” she says and goes back behind her desk again. She fetches some papers attached to a clipboard, and hands them to me, together with a pen.

“Please sign that.”

I skim over the text. It’s three pages of narrow print, formatted in bullet points. The sense is clear. “A confidentiality agreement?”

“Exactly. We have to be cautious, I’m sure you understand. Nothing you experience during your stay here can be made public. If you don’t comply with the agreement, our legal department will take appropriate steps.” Her smile is saccharine now and I don’t like the way she says ‘we’, as if it definitely does not include me.

Without casting a single look at the individual bullet points, I take the pen and sign it, and then I hand back the papers, smiling. I’m not planning on telling anyone anything, yet I don’t want to give that woman the satisfaction of knowing she could make me nervous. “Is there anything else?” I ask, sounding decidedly bored.

“You can go in now,” Catherine Shepard replies. Unfortunately, I can’t tell if I’ve impressed her. Taking long steps, I stride up to Jonathan Huntington’s office door, knock briefly, and enter.

Jonathan is standing behind his desk at the window, making a call on his cell phone. When he sees me, he gestures to me to come in. While I’m still coming toward him, he finishes his call and turns back to his desk and picks up a few papers.

“Even more things to sign?” I ask, and regret it immediately because I feel like I sound like a child.

He raises his eyebrows. He obviously knows exactly what I mean. “The agreement is a necessary precaution.” His tone of voice is calm but emphatic. “Do have a problem with that, Grace?” I can sense that whether or not the offer still stands will depend on my answer.

“No,” I assure him. “I wasn’t planning to broadcast Huntington Ventures’ business secrets to the world anyway.”

“It would certainly be costly for you if you did.” It’s a warning, but he says it with such self-assurance that it makes the difference between us clear to me again. He runs an extremely successful company. If I were to challenge him, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Not a chance in hell.

And then I suddenly realize what it is that’s making me so mad. He doesn’t trust me. Which is nonsense. He doesn’t know me, and he has to be cautious if he’s going to give me confidential insights into his business. But I’m still offended. “As I said, I wasn’t planning to,” I repeat and I wish I hadn’t brought the subject up to begin with.

Jonathan seems to feel the same way because he is holding the papers out to me. “Here, these are the files on the project we are about to discuss in the meeting. You can sit over there and take a look at them, so you know what it’s about.” He indicates a leather sofa and smiles briefly and then he sits down in his chair and grabs the telephone again.

I obediently follow his instructions and sit down on the broad leather sofa. As I read through the documents, I keep one ear open to what he’s discussing on the phone. But since I can only hear half of it, I don’t understand what he’s talking about. It’s definitely something business-related, though.

I sneak a look at him from time to time and listen to his voice. It sounds deep and decisive, and somehow I’m sure that he’s going to get what he wants. He’s rolled up his shirtsleeves. His lower arms are powerful and the tendons stand out beneath his skin. I can’t take my eyes off them and I get that empty, tugging feeling in my stomach again. What would it feel like to have those arms around me …

I swallow because my mouth has suddenly gone completely dry again. He won’t put his arms around you, Grace, so calm down, I admonish myself. He’s not even paying any attention to me, it’s almost as if I weren’t there. So much for the dangerous Jonathan Huntington I need to protect myself against. He doesn’t seem to want anything much from me.

What should he want from you? A small nagging voice inside me asks. I sigh without realizing it. He lifts his head and looks at me questioningly. For a long moment, our eyes meet and heat surges through me, driving the blood into my cheeks.

“Is everything OK?” he asks.

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” I assure him hastily, but my voice is trembling slightly. I stare back down at the papers quickly. I can’t help it if he takes my breath away whenever I look into his eyes for more than a few seconds. It’s scary and I need to get that under control if I want to get through the next few weeks. But how?

I find him attractive. Very attractive. More attractive than I’ve ever found anyone before. Which is a problem. Because, unfortunately, I have no experience with men. None at all. At least, not where physical attraction is concerned. The few men I’ve gone out with were nice but none of them aroused anything like these overwhelming feelings.

Yes, I know. It’s incredible for someone who’s twenty-two years old. I guess I’m just a late bloomer, or perhaps overcautious. Unlike Hope, who’s two years younger than me, I was fully aware of my parents’ separation. It was horrible when Dad suddenly wasn’t there anymore, and Mom was so unhappy and cried so much.

At some point, as I got older, I realized that not every relationship between a man and a woman has to end that way. But I was still on my guard and I had the feeling that I had to protect myself. Hope didn’t have as many problems with that. She had a string of boyfriends and admirers that changed regularly. But I was different. I was never really interested in men; or perhaps I just hadn’t met the right one. Until now …

With a shake of my head, I try to concentrate on the report in my lap once more. It’s typical of me that now I’m ready to try it out after all, it’s with a man who I can never have, and who I’ve been explicitly warned against. I want to give in to the feeling, which is drawing me to him …

Jonathan ends his conversation and dials another number. It takes me a second to realize that he’s not speaking English. He’s speaking Japanese.

I lift my head, almost shocked—and look straight into his eyes again. But this time he’s not giving me a questioning look. Instead he’s staring at me, frowning, while he talks and I get the impression it’s about me. I get the jittery feeling in my chest again. That’s completely impossible, I reassure myself. Why would he be talking to Yuuto Nagako—or anyone else—about me?

At some point, he turns his head to one side and my breathing calms down again. But this definitely can’t go on any longer. I can’t spend three months sitting on this couch and flinching every time he looks at me. I wouldn’t be able to hold out, my nerves couldn’t take it.

“How …did you envisage this?” I ask, after he hangs up. “Am I going to work at this sofa table the whole time I’m here?”

He stops short for a moment and then smiles slightly. “Do you have a problem with something again?”

He’s taking all of this way too seriously I think, and I’m suddenly angry again. Why did he make me that offer? What is this, a game?

But before I can think of a suitable answer, he continues. “You can work in the office next door, from tomorrow. It’s empty at the moment. But for today you’re going to have to put up with me. But we’re going to be on the move a lot, anyway.”

Perhaps one of the ladies from the management floor has thrown in the towel and left the company.

“Are you ready?” he asks, jolting me out of my musings. He’s already standing up and it’s completely clear that he’s not going to make any allowances for me if I am indeed not ready yet.

BOOK: Unbound
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