Page 49 of The Charmer
If the ruckus outside his office door was any indication, she intended on making her feelings known to all and sundry before she even made it into his office.
As he pushed back from his desk and strode across his office, the door flung open.
“You’ve got a nerve!” Ariel shouted, making a beeline for him while Beryl, his secretary, gave an apologetic shrug and made circles with her finger at her temple.
“I’ll take it from here, thanks Beryl,” he said, walking straight past Ariel to shut the door.
Not that it would make much difference. Half of Flinders Street would’ve heard Ariel’s indignant shriek as she whirled and advanced on him, her eyes filled with emerald fire and her curls bristling like a fuzzy halo.
Not that there was anything remotely angelic about her, considering what they’d got up to last night and in the shower first thing this morning.
He couldn’t get the images of their incredible night out of his head, which is exactly why he’d headed to the office after he left her gallery. He hated feeling off-kilter and that’s how Ariel made him feel. Business grounded him and gave him a purpose. He needed clarity now more than ever and once this deal went through, he’d have it. Then he could re-evaluate his feelings for Ariel and what that meant for them.
“Why don’t you take a seat and we can discuss the new developments like two rational adults?”
“Rational?” She drew back her shoulders, drawing his attention to her breasts straining against the paisley halter top that moulded her like a second skin, eliciting erotic memories of the way she’d felt lying on top of him last night—passionate, feverish, responsive—like a fantasy come to life. “You expect me to be rational when you have a courier deliver me this?”
She reached into a straw carryall, pulled out a sheaf of papers, flung them onto his desk, and planted her hands on hips, like an avenging demon come to slay him. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
“What does it look like?”
He shouldn’t antagonise her further, he really shouldn’t, but a small part of him was enjoying their confrontation. She’d had all the comebacks last night, shooting him down in flames when all he’d tried to do was lay the foundations for a possible future as friends or maybe something more.
She hadn’t listened to him, she hadn’t acknowledged his honesty, and she sure as hell hadn’t given them a chance even after the mind-blowing sex. If he were completely honest with himself, he didn’t know if he wanted a future with Ariel, but he’d be damned if he walked away without exploring the fireworks that exploded whenever they were within two feet of each other.
She continued to confuse business with pleasure and the only way he knew to bring this to quick closure was to finish the business and move onto more of the pleasure. A lot more…of her soft lips clinging to his, her hands all over his body, her excited little moans as he licked her to orgasm…
“What is wrong with you?” She broached the short distance between them and snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Cut the vague act and start explaining.”
Wrestling his raging libido into some semblance of control, he headed for the safety of his desk and away from Ariel’s intoxicating scent. He’d never smelt anything like it and the weird perfume he could now label as neroli thanks to the tiny essential oil vial he’d spied in her bag the other day had grown on him. He doubted he’d ever smell oranges again without remembering the blonde goddess with eyes of green fire.
“Would you like a drink?”
“No. I would like an explanation.” She grudgingly sat on the leather chair opposite his and folded her arms like a recalcitrant schoolgirl waiting for punishment from the principal. “Now.”
He sat, straightening the messy papers scattered on his desk, hoping a few extra seconds would help calm her down. When he caught her eye and saw the narrow green slits glowing with anger, he knew a few extra hours wouldn’t help.
“If you’ve read the amendments, you don’t need an explanation. It’s clear.”
“The part where you’re threatening me or the part where you’ll do anything to get your grubby hands on the gallery?” She leaned forward, her fingers clenching his desk so hard the knuckles whitened. “Oops, silly me. The gallery doesn’t mean a thing to you, it’s the land you’re after. I really must learn to clarify my terms, like you have in this pathetic excuse for a proposal.”
He let her vent. He’d expected the animosity, the antagonism, but it hurt nonetheless. He cared about her. And he hadn’t realised how much until now, when she glared at him with loathing and contempt.
Damn it, what if his plan backfired?
What if, in attempting to finish the business side of things and move onto the personal, he finished them completely?
“I’m not threatening you, Ariel, I’m giving you an opportunity to come out of this deal a winner.”
“You’re trying to buy me off to get what you want.” Her scornful stare burned a hole straight through to his conscience. “And if I don’t comply, you go ahead and offer the council twice what the land is worth by the end of today?”
She shook her head, golden curls rioting around her face and a perfect contrast for the faint pink staining her cheeks. “Wow, lucky me, that’s some opportunity.”
He gritted his teeth, wishing it didn’t have to be this way. “This deal has to go through. Today,” he said, feeling like a heel when the fire drained from her eyes only to be replaced by fear.
“I need more time.”
Her whispered plea slammed into his soul, raising questions he’d rather ignore.