Her Enemy With Benefits: Her Deal with the Devil / My Boyfriend and Other Enemies / Blind Date Rivals. Nikki Logan
nodded. ‘The old Hollywood glamour concept is brilliant. And the designs…’ He kissed his fingertips in a flamboyant European gesture. ‘Magnifique.’
Patrick had no doubt his idea would wow the fashion world. What he doubted was gaining the recognition from the two people who mattered the most.
‘So you’ll be ready for a preview showing first thing Mon-day morning?’
‘Yeah, we’ll be ready.’ Serge smirked and spun the globe with his finger, hovering over Melbourne again. ‘The question is, will you?’
‘I’ll be here.’ He stood, glanced at his watch, making a grand show of having somewhere else to be when in fact he needed to get rid of Serge so he could get on with his plans. ‘I’ve never mixed business with pleasure before and you know it.’
‘There’s always a first time for everything,’ Serge said, giving the globe a final spin before lumbering towards the door. ‘And come Monday there’ll be a pin there to prove it.’
Patrick frowned, not liking Serge’s immature ribbing, and liking the fact he was probably already mixing business with pleasure less.
‘THERE ARE RULES for the weekend.’
Sapphie wriggled in the soft leather seat as Patrick slowed his Ferrari to enter the Southbank precinct. She didn’t care what his rules were, as long as they involved the two of them naked. ‘Such as?’
‘No work talk. No checking e-mails. No leaving the hotel room.’
‘But what if I get hungry?’
‘You’ll get plenty to eat.’ He stopped at a red traffic light and shot her a loaded glance packed with sizzle that implied food wouldn’t be the only thing on the menu.
Her body pinged in anticipation. ‘Any other hoops you want me to jump through?’
‘No, but there will be acrobatics involved.’
She laughed at his exaggerated wink as the lights changed and he concentrated on steering through the heavy Friday night traffic.
Banter was good. Banter kept her nerves at bay. And it detracted from the constant doubts whirring through her head as she overanalysed this situation from every angle.
She wanted him. There was no question. But the after-math? A thousand scenarios, none of them pleasant, plagued her.
Despite his reassurances to keep business and pleasure separate, what if sex screwed things up—literally?
They were both mature, consenting adults with a major attraction going on, but deep down she couldn’t quite subdue the tiny voice that kept chanting, This is Patrick you’re going to sleep with.
The same Patrick who’d tracked down her favourite cola flavoured lollipops when they’d crammed for an exam one week during the school holidays.
The same Patrick who’d collated her assignments and e-mailed the lot when she’d missed a few days with the flu.
The same Patrick who’d rescued her on the night of the grad dance and proved with one scintillating, unforgettable kiss that he wasn’t solely the annoying rebel she’d branded him.
And that was what scared her the most. That on some intrinsic level she still craved this guy like a wistful teenager. If those old yearnings were resurrected…
Nope. This was physical all the way. Come Monday they’d revert to work, with a side-serve of flirting.
‘We’re here.’
Sapphie had been so busy battling with her doubts she’d lost concentration and missed the moment when he steered his boy-toy through the driveway of the Langham Hotel and cut the engine.
‘Ready?’ His hand sneaked across the console and found hers, his gentle squeeze reassuring.
‘Hell, yeah,’ she said, earning a wicked grin that made her belly go into freefall.
The next five minutes passed in a blur of bags and valet parking and checking in as Patrick took charge. She liked that about him—how the laid-back guy he’d once been had developed into a go-getter who hadn’t lost his ability to have fun.
Decadent weekends away in posh hotels reeked of fun and something she’d never done. She’d stayed in luxurious hotels for work, but never checked in to one with the intention of wallowing in the room.
The new her approved. Spending the weekend holed away was on par with a few hours’ meditation or yoga or Pilates.
The old her? Too scared to put in an appearance for fear a stray incense stick would clobber her.
As Patrick handed over his credit card—he’d bristled when she’d insisted on paying half, so she’d let it go for the sake of his manly pride—she glanced around at the exquisite swirled cream marble floors, the sweeping staircase, the fountain cascading water to the ground floor, the stunning floral arrangements.
Combined with the hint of ginger and lemongrass in the air, the Langham exuded a quiet elegance that appealed to her battered soul.
Maybe if she’d taken time out to appreciate places like this over the years she wouldn’t have ended up almost losing Seaborns and driving a wedge between her and Ruby in the process?
She’d devoted her life to the company—so many hours she could never take back. At the time she hadn’t wanted to, had been content to bury herself in work, but her enforced absence had readjusted her priorities.
When Patrick headed back to Europe she’d make time to do stuff like this, even if it meant checking into a swank hotel for a weekend on her own.
A few spa treatments, a stack of chick-lit novels on her e-reader and Room Service would be the perfect antidote to her frenetic schedule.
And if she’d probably remember this time with one of the sexiest guys she’d ever met and maybe crave him a tad? She’d better make sure they created some pretty unforgettable memories this weekend to resurrect when needed.
‘Let’s go.’
His breath fanned her ear as he placed a hand in the small of her back. The simple touch sent a shiver of longing through her.
He must have felt the faintest tremor, for his fingers strummed her spine on the way to her neck, where he caressed the exposed skin. ‘The faster we hit room 2227, the faster we get to unpack those boxes.’
She almost corrected him and said suitcases—until she realised what he meant. While her body couldn’t wait to hit that room, her rationale couldn’t be ignored completely.
Her hands cupped his face, leaving him no option but to look into her eyes. ‘We’re really doing this? I mean, we still have to work together, and what if—?’
He kissed her—a soft, tender sweep across her lips that had her melting into him.
‘I picked a hotel because I wanted this to be special. Not a quickie in your apartment or on my desk.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Though that’s not entirely out of the question later.’
Okay, so he wanted a ‘later’? Before she could ponder or question what that meant, he continued.
‘We’ve known each other a long time so there’s no pretences, no awkwardness later. We indulge ourselves, have a memorable weekend without regrets.’ His arms slid around her waist, anchoring her. ‘You with me?’
With her heart still questioning the validity of what she was about to do, she nodded. ‘All the way.’
All the way echoed through her head as the elevator whisked them to the twenty-second floor and their exclusive Club suite.
It continued