Passion Becomes You. Michelle Reid
Jemma was already talking to fresh air. Josh had slammed down the phone. She sat staring at the contraption for the space of ten seconds while trying to make head or tail of that final scathing remark, then shrugged, replacing her own receiver. It seemed that when Josh had said he’d had a hell of a weekend he’d meant it.
The lovers’ bed must have had thorns in it, she mused, and smiled to herself as she hunted out the number of the Leonadis Corporation.
It was only as she waited for someone to answer that she realised she had no idea what the managing director’s name was. Josh had made the appointment himself on Friday. And all he had said was, ‘I hate the damned man, but he’s hunting for new outlets to get his design components from and I need the business. So I suppose I’ll have to fanny round him.’
She grimaced, wondering what the man could have done to Josh to make him dislike him so much; her boss was not normally drawn to taking personal exception to potential clients. In fact, he was usually quite happy to ‘fanny round’ anyone so long as it brought him business.
‘The Leonadis Corporation?’
Jemma blinked. ‘Ah,’ she began, wondering how to get around this one without sounding like a fool. She explained who she was and why she was ringing, then added, ‘So I hoped to catch your managing director before he leaves the building,’ she concluded, mentally crossing her fingers that the receptionist on the other end would provide the name and save her having to ask.
‘Oh, I’m afraid you may be too late,’ she was informed. ‘But I’ll put you through to his secretary.’
‘Thank you.’ Jemma held the line while she waited to be transferred, but a single glance at her watch told her she was running out of time. ‘Damn you, Josh,’ she muttered to herself.
‘Mr Stephanades’s secretary speaking. Can I help you?’
Stephanades—now where had she heard that name before? ‘I do hope so,’ she said, then quickly went into her explanation again. ‘Mr Stephanades had an appointment with Mr Tanner for ten o’clock this morning, but I am afraid Mr Tanner has been delayed. Am I too late to save him a wasted journey?’
‘When I am already standing right here, I would say yes, you are much too late,’ a deep, smooth, beautifully accented and drily amused voice drawled at her from across the room.
Startled, Jemma glanced up—then felt everything vital inside her grind to a shuddering halt when she found herself staring at the most disturbingly attractive man she had ever seen in her life!
He was leaning in the open doorway, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark silk business suit trousers so that the side panels of his jacket had been shoved out of the way to expose the solid breadth of his chest beneath the crisp clean whiteness of his shirt. He was tall and dark, his black hair cut in a short, neat style which kept the hint of a wave contained to the silken top of his head. His bone-structure was square and strong, the skin stretched across it smooth and tanned. Black eyes were teasing her from between jet-black, sleepily curling lashes. And he was smiling at her with the most startlingly sensual mouth she had ever encountered.
Faultless, she decided hazily. He is absolutely faultless. He set her blood pumping in a way which left her in no doubt whatsoever as to what was happening to her. And the dark, coiling warmth she was experiencing in the pit of her stomach confirmed it.
This, she accepted, as she continued to stare breathlessly at him, was what it was all about.
Attraction. Dark and hot and rousing.
Her continued silence sent his sleek brows arching. Jemma heaved in a deep breath of air in an effort to pull herself together. The action lifted her breasts in a slow quivering motion beneath her white silky blouse then dropped them again in the same tremulous way, making those gorgeous lashes of his fall in two luxurious curves over his eyes as he followed the revealing motion. Her nipples stung painfully in response, and she blushed hotly with embarrassment, wishing for the first time ever that she possessed such a thing as a bra, because she didn’t have to look down at herself to know what he was witnessing happening to her.
‘Miss Davis?’ a slightly puzzled voice prompted in her ear.
‘I...’ She ran the tip of her tongue around her suddenly parched lips. ‘It—it doesn’t matter,’ she whispered breathlessly and replaced the receiver without really knowing she had done it, her eyes not leaving the man leaning in the doorway.
The smile widened on his lips, giving them a sensually knowing quality that annoyed her even as she accepted his right to display it. She knew who he was, of course. He had made that clear when he let her know he was there. But she could not for the life of her respond with anything like the light brisk, ‘Good morning, Mr Stephanades!’ Josh would expect of her. She wanted to know his first name, to feel it curl off her tongue like a caress. Her heart was bursting, her breasts tingling, her calves and thighs trembling with the full fermenting blast of his attraction.
‘Shall we leave now, or do you need a few moments longer to compose yourself?’
‘W-what?’ She blinked, blue eyes filling with bewildered confusion. ‘L-leave for where?’
‘My apartment,’ he explained, levering himself away from the door-frame to come further into the room, closing the door behind him. ‘I must say,’ he went on lightly before Jemma had a chance to digest the full import of his first remark, ‘I have in my life been propositioned in many ways, but never with such open and—dare I say it?—helpless invitation before. I find it rather—enchanting.’
Stung, Jemma closed her eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassed colour grow hotter in her cheeks.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured, pulling herself together with an effort that cost her her dignity as she stumbled shakily to her feet. ‘You took me by surprise, Mr...’ She’d forgotten his name. His secretary had only just informed her of it, and already in her stupidity she had forgotten it!
‘Stephanades,’ he supplied it for her, the mockery spiked and cruel. ‘Leon Stephanades, at your service, Miss...?’
Leon, his first name was Leon. Jemma actually had to count to ten to stop herself repeating the name in the breathless little way she knew was hanging on the very end of her dry, quivering tongue.
On a jerky movement she straightened her body, ‘Davis,’ she supplied, lifting her chin to face him as coolly as she could, but she knew the hectic flush still colouring her cheeks said it all. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey, sir.’ That’s better, Jemma, she told herself encouragingly, refusing to look anywhere but at the left tip of his well shaped ear in case the look in his eyes sent her crazy again. ‘But Mr Tanner has been delayed and cannot make your appointment. I was hoping to catch you before you left your office, but as we both see—’ she tried a wry smile and it just about worked ‘—I was too late.’
‘How fortunate.’
Oh, good grief! She almost choked in appalled horror when his reply made her breasts tingle again. She closed her eyes, only opening them again when she was sure she was looking down at her desk and not at him. ‘If you will just give me a moment,’ she murmured a trifle hoarsely, feeling a fool—a damned fool, ‘I’ll find Mr Tanner’s appointment book and we can arrange another—’
‘I have a better idea,’ he cut in. ‘Meet me for lunch and we will discuss...arrangements over a light meal and a bottle of wine.’
Jemma almost died inside with shame, not in any way missing the double meaning. ‘I’m sorry.’ She stuck to the official meaning in his words with all the secretarial cool she could muster, but it wasn’t easy when her body was responding wildly to the other. ‘S-someone has to m-man the office when Mr Tanner isn’t here.’
‘Shame,’ he murmured, so softly that her eyes flickered up to clash with his, and her cheeks went even hotter at the expression on his face. This was not all one-sided. He was attracted to her also. ‘For I am flying to New York this afternoon