IN BED WITH THE BOSS

So tranquil, she thought, when there was nothing tranquil about the man who must have had the pool and the goddess positioned there.

“So, what do you think?” He came to take the seat beside her, lazed back and stretched out his long legs.

“About the house? You must already know that it’s very beautiful.” Vivian said.

“I purchased it last year from a business acquaintance, who needed some heavy cash fast,” he imparted casually. “The idea was to sell it on but the current housing market made me decide to hang on to it for a while.”

“That explains it, then,” Vivian murmured.

He turned his head to look at her. “Explains what?” he asked.

“Did Anthony come with the house?” she responded with a question of her own.

“Yes,” he confirmed, and she nodded her head.

“The decor and the furnishings?” His eyes started to narrow, and Vivian felt that needling spark of electricity filter into the air. She had to moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue before she could go on. “Your-stamp is not visible here.”

“Stamp,” he prompted.

“This is a-how do you say it…quintessential-? Yes. This is a quintessential model of an Englishman’s country home.”

“What? And just what do you know about quintessential Englishmen?” Scott laughed. “You’re a farm girl with a dog called Dany for a best friend.”

“It doesn’t mean that I can’t know things” Vivian defended that comment.

“Yeah, well… I know things too” Scott tossed back.

Widening her eyes, she asked, “Do you-?”

“You’re making assumptions about me without being in possession of all the facts. That’s dangerous around me, Vivian”

And Vivian knew he was right. Then again, everything felt as if it had a dangerous element to it since she’d woken up this morning. And when she could not manage to break eye contact with him, she knew it was getting worse.

___________

Vivian turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror and felt the now almost-permanent quiver going on low in her stomach quicken like mad. She’d spent half the morning shortening the long flow of its near-sheer iced-blue silk skirt. But it was the rest of the dress that made her senses quicken. The strapless style of the bodice draped lovingly around the thrusting shape of her breasts, then went on to hug each slender curve of her body with band after band of exquisitely intricate pleating all the way down to her thighs before the sheer silk flowed to her feet, elevated by the daintiest pair of crystal-studded high-heeled mules.

“Oh, my,” she breathed, stealing the expression Megan had used on the phone that morning.

Sparkling crystal droplets danced amongst the tight pleating, accentuating the shape of her body when she moved or even as she breathed. She’d coiled her hair into a loose pleat at her nape and her skin glowed smooth gold against the pale blue of the gown. A fabulous teardrop necklace, given to her by father, rested on its fine chain just above the sloping fullness of her breasts, and matching earrings sparkled at her ears. She had hoped to look elegant and sleek and sophisticated but what she’d seemed to have achieved was-alluringly sensual. She even felt sensual, in places she did not dare think about in case she made herself blush.

But she was chewing on her rose-coloured lip gloss and frowning uncertainly because she was just discovering that it was one thing to imagine herself dressing like this to impress a certain man, but it was quite a different sensation to realize she was seriously shocking herself.

Scott was standing in the hall talking into his mobile phone when Vivian appeared at the top of the staircase. As he glanced up and caught sight of her, the deep base tones of his voice stopped mid sentence and he froze, his dark eyes flaring momentarily before he hooded them over with his long eyelashes, his gaze running in a slow sweep that allowed him to take in every sleek curvaceous inch.

Oh damn, I’m in trouble, was the only thought he was able to register as a familiar heat flared low in his groin and somehow managed to mess with his breathing at the same time. Then he became aware that he still held his phone to his ear and he turned his back on her while he finished the call and, at the same time, grabbed a tight mental grip on his rampaging libido. This weekend is about work, he reminded himself. Yeah, tell that to the kiss you can still taste.

Just watching the way he’d shut down his expression and how his strong jaw had clenched before he turned away was enough to tighten the knot of anxiety toying with Vivian’s stomach. He’d done it again, and beaten her up with his silent criticism. She didn’t know whether to get angry or to weep. She’d reached the last step before he turned around again, wearing his cool urban face.

“My apologies,” he said. “Something urgent the account manager needed to discuss with me before we left.”

He was walking towards her as he spoke, the absolute epitome of gorgeous handsome man about town in a formal dinner suit again. “You look fabulous,” he delivered lightly. “Love the dress.”

Vivian managed a small tense smile in response.

“Do you have no coat, a shawl or something?”

Offering a shake of her head, she answered, “The evening is quite warm.” she replied.

In truth, she had forgotten to bring anything like a shawl with her, but she was not going to admit that to this man who was floating a final glance over her before he gave a curt nod of his sleek dark head.

“Let’s get going, then.”This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Brisk, businesslike, firing on all pistons, Vivian described as she walked beside him towards the front door. He did not need to say it out loud to remind her that this was all about work. Networking the social scene while pretending to enjoy themselves. She wanted to ask him if she got paid overtime rates, but decided against setting the evening with a sarcasm that was bound to annoy him.

As they circled down over the Cowell estate, Vivian was genuinely stunned by its palatial splendor. The house was designed to look like a Roman villa with a central courtyard and formal gardens fanning out from three sides of the house. The front of the house was mainly rolling green parkland split by a long sweeping drive. A makeshift car park to one side of the drive was already glinting due to the dying sun on the lines of cars.

Vivian counted six helicopters parked up on the other side of the driveway and, as they swooped lower, she caught sight of two swimming pools, one outdoors and one contained beneath a dome of glass. Two television crews, and what felt like a thousand photographers, waited to record their arrival. The moment she saw them her heart started beating way too fast.

“Smile, Vivian” Scott instructed softly as he helped her down the helicopter steps.

Obediently Vivian switched on her smile. Camera shutters began clicking wildly and flashbulbs lit up the fading light. Scott maintained his grip on one of her hands as they walked the media gauntlet on a thoughtfully laid carpet of artificial grass where they took pictures and Scott answered a few questions from the media.

When he saw how nervous she was, he gave a soft laugh and swapped his grip on her hand for an arm strapped across her back so he could hustle her in front of him into the house. “Stop fidgeting, Vivian” he said, “You look beautiful”

Vivian didn’t want to admit it to herself, but his assurance helped… a lot. The next half an hour passed by in a whirl of first-time introductions that more camera crews recorded moment by moment. By the time she was given a chance to draw in a proper breath again, Vivian was feeling dazed.

“You could have warned me, you know” she complained to Scott.

“Forewarned, there was a chance you might do a runner,” he said, catching up two glasses of champagne and handing one to her.

“This place is amazing,” she changed the subject, glancing up at a high vaulted ceiling around which a cantilevered glass walkway seemed to stay up there by will alone. “Well, Augustus Cowell likes to impress us with his structural engineering skills,” Scott murmured dryly.

“I thought the Cowell’s were media moguls.” Vivian frowned.

“Been doing your homework?”

Lifting her chin, she said, “Well, it’s part of my job, is it not?”

The direct challenge. Scott arched an eyebrow because he had not expected her to make it. Like a fool playing a very dangerous game he held on to her deep dark eyes and piled the pressure on the constant tug of sexual awareness that was always present between them now. She looked away first.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s move on to where the real action is.”

The work angle of action, Vivian saw the moment they stepped inside a vast reception room already crammed with high-end glittering people.