Forbidden To Touch. JC Harroway
have the crazy urge to reach out and comfort him by touching his arm. But touching Reid Faulkner has always been forbidden.
‘What for?’ All I did was gape and smile and pretend I’m his ex-wife.
‘For playing along.’ He scrubs a hand over his face, his eyes suddenly tired, fires off a text and slips his phone into his pocket.
‘I... No problem.’ My mouth opens and closes, the words springing to mind inappropriate in the muddle of my mind. ‘Is Graham...is he okay?’ Reid and I have never shared confidences, given I’m closest in age to Kit, but Graham was always kind to me growing up, even encouraging my career dreams when my own family considered them an act of childish rebellion and mere frippery.
Reid turns to face me, shoulders back and hands slung in his pockets, wariness at the edges of his stare hinting at his vulnerability. ‘He will be,’ he says, shutting down the line of conversation.
Goose pimples prickle along my bare arms. What now? Do I walk away from my deal? Settle, again, for less than I deserve? Forget the contract I worked hard to secure when Graham Faulkner seemed to be a different man?
As I look at the lines in the corners of Reid’s eyes, my heart thumps and my stance softens. Whatever is happening to Graham, it’s taking a toll on Reid.
‘I thought Sadie was your ex,’ I whisper, my chest tight. I’m torn. Part of me wants answers, even though I know they’ll signal the end of this lucrative, hard-won deal. And the other part—the part desperate to prove herself after the Josh debacle—wants to wallow in ignorance and simply start the job for which I’ve been hired. I swallow past the lump in my throat, telling myself Reid’s personal family problems are not my concern.
But I can’t ignore his look of uncertainty any more than I can ignore what this might mean for Graham.
‘She is.’ He clenches his jaw, his mouth a grim line.
Is that it? Don’t I deserve a little more explanation after lying for him, albeit to save Graham from embarrassment?
‘Is he...? He seemed confused. Is it temporary?’
Medication-related? A result of a blow to the head? The Graham I know was so supportive of my company and so enthusiastic for the renovations to the Faulkner.
Reid’s lips press tighter together. I’m clearly not to be trusted with personal information. And that’s fine. It reminds me that, chemistry or not, we’re barely family friends, whatever Graham might have thought when he walked in.
I search for Reid’s earlier vulnerability, but it’s nowhere to be seen. I’m about to speak, to offer some appropriate platitude—clearly something major has happened since I last saw Graham—to tear up my contract and bill him only for the hours I’ve already put in, when he speaks first.
‘I have another meeting now.’ He scrubs at his stubbled jaw with one large hand. ‘I suggest we reschedule for nine tomorrow in the boardroom. Let’s see if we can’t negotiate a middle ground—’ he pins me once more with that hard-to-read stare, ‘—one that, as you said, satisfies us both.’
The way he utters the word ‘satisfies’ brings to mind all kinds of lewd scenarios featuring Reid—not the younger version, irresistible enough, but this older man who no longer intimidates me. I nod, my head still woolly and doubts over our working relationship lingering. But if a temporary illness has befallen Graham, do I really need to walk away from this deal? Won’t he expect the work to continue, regardless?
My mind races through various practicalities—I’ve already employed contractors and secured supplies. I collect my bag and move towards the door, my steps in no way as certain as when I arrived.
‘Blair.’
I turn, but his face is unreadable with the exception of a flare of heat in his eyes, which my erogenous zones latch onto.
He swallows. ‘Thanks.’
He turns away and I leave, every certainty I brought here in crumbs underneath the soles of my heavy feet.
Reid
I STAND AS Sue ushers Blair into the smaller of the two boardrooms at the Faulkner offices, the slug of heat her appearance brings surging through my muscles and making me feel taller, as if anything were possible. It’s an amplified version of what seeing her yesterday sparked, which tells me Blair Cameron and I may have unfinished business beyond hotel renovations.
Damn, I hoped I’d be over it today; instead, I note how her green dress accentuates the glow of her skin and brings out the same shade in her eyes. Her hair is down, the tousled swath casually draped over one shoulder, exposing one side of her neck and one earlobe, which is decorated with a dangling pearl.
Why do I have the highly inconvenient urge to suck on that earlobe and tongue the pearl, perhaps undoing the professional and put-together Blair, who I am certain has brought her promised negotiation skills to the table?
Sue leaves us, silently closing the door. I step closer, extend my hand towards my worthy adversary, almost looking forward to our spar.
Blair’s fingers clasp mine, the heat in my palm increasing as if we’re a chemistry experiment, our skin-on-skin combination creating our own energy source. With reluctance I drop her hand and pull out one of the seats around the conference table, more excited than I should be for today’s negotiations.
She could have reacted very differently to last night’s farce in my office, but she managed the whole affair with discretion. Drake and Kit and the lawyers agree—we’re bound by her contract, and her designs, while modest to date, are good. Graham was clearly in sound mind when he contracted Cameron Interiors. I need to find a way to honour both the contract and his wishes, while, of course, getting what I want, too.
And where this woman is concerned, what I want has become somewhat...murky, at least physically. Damn, I almost kissed her yesterday just before we were interrupted by Graham. Her exquisite, previously forbidden closeness, her fiery, take-no-prisoners attitude, her eyes both excited and determined—I couldn’t resist.
Blair Cameron is a potent and tempting package inspiring intrigue, fascination and respect. I tell myself it’s my desire to draw a satisfactory line under this mix-up. I wait for her to settle before removing my suit jacket and sliding into my own seat, at right angles to her, swallowing the surge of lust. The family business comes first, and she’s chosen the wrong challenger if she thinks this is all going her way. The table is long, rectangular, with places for twelve, but at this proximity I can see the flush of her skin, hear the soft intake of her breath and catalogue every nuance of her body language, which speaks for her. She has nowhere to hide—a perfect position of negotiating strength. Nothing to do with how fantastic she smells or how I’m drawn to those sparks of fire in her eyes. No, it makes sense to keep my enemies—or, in her case, someone whose professional motives could be considered ruthless—close. The last time my personal life encroached on the family business, I almost lost everything. And, although it will in no way be a chore, I intend to keep a very close eye on Ms Cameron.
And what of her personal motives? Could she possibly reciprocate my interest...?
She glances around and then pours herself a glass of water from the carafe on the table between us. ‘I thought you were joking about the boardroom.’
‘Why would I joke? I take business very seriously.’ She really doesn’t know me, but that could be rectified.
She nods, shuffling her papers and giving away her nerves. ‘As do I. So let’s discuss that first.’
A surge of blood pounds in my dick at her words. First implies a second... And if not business, then perhaps pleasure.
Blair continues, ‘I have discussed it at length with Graham, and of course I’ve been there many