Time seemed to stop. It was just them, the moonlight and the fairy lights. Nobody came out to find them or ask Hugh to play the piano or Bella to sketch. They could’ve been light years away from anywhere.
But they could still hear the music.
‘Dance with me?’ he asked.
Even though part of her knew that this wasn’t sensible—it was too intimate, just the two of them in the orangery among the fairy lights—how could she resist?
They swayed together in the room.
Any moment now, she thought, he’d say something to remind her that they were both playing a part.
And yet he didn’t. He just danced with her. Held her close. Cherished her.
It was so long since she’d been held like that. It made her feel warm inside. Warm all over. And when Hugh rested his cheek against hers, even though she’d promised herself she’d be sensible, she found herself moving that little bit closer to him. Turning her head so her mouth made contact with the corner of his. His arms tightened round her and he moved his head too, so his lips brushed against hers. Once, twice: and then he was kissing her with abandon, and she was kissing him right back.
She was dizzy with desire when he broke the kiss.
‘Hugh—I, we...’ She couldn’t think straight. There was something important she had to say, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what it was. She just wanted him to kiss her again.
She trailed her fingertips across his cheek, liking the very faint scratch of stubble. ‘You’re beautiful,’ she said. ‘Poster-boy beautiful.’
He turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. ‘Less of the boy, thank you.’
Oh, yes. He was all man. ‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ she said. ‘Just that you’re beautiful.’
‘So are you.’ He kissed her again. ‘You make me ache.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘Ditto.’ An ache of wanting, of need. He was driving her crazy with his nearness.
‘I know this isn’t supposed to be happening, but right now,’ he said softly, ‘I don’t want to go back and join the others. I want to carry you up the stairs to your bed.’
The big, wide four-poster.
‘I want to make love with you, Bella.’
A shiver of pure desire ran down her spine.
She knew they shouldn’t be doing this. It wasn’t what they’d agreed. She was his pretend girlfriend, not his real one. He was her boss. It could have major repercussions and she could end up in another financial mess. They really ought to stop this right now and remember who and where they were. She opened her mouth, intending to say that they shouldn’t.
Then again, this wasn’t real. And she knew neither of them was looking for for ever. Kirk had wiped out her trust in relationships, and from the little Hugh had said about his ex she was pretty sure that he felt the same way. He wasn’t looking for The One, any more than she was.
They were both adults.
There was no reason why they shouldn’t act on the attraction between them, just for one night.
So instead, she said softly, ‘Tonight’s just tonight. A one-off.’
His eyes looked almost navy blue in the soft light. ‘No strings.’
‘No promises.’ She didn’t believe in promises any more. ‘No for ever.’
‘No promises and no for ever,’ he echoed.
‘Then do it,’ she said softly.
He kissed her once. Hard. And then he scooped her up into his arms, pausing only to switch off the fairy lights, and carried her down the corridor and up a quiet flight of stairs to her bedroom.
THE NEXT MORNING, Bella woke to find a warm body curled round hers. For a moment, she couldn’t place where she was and why on earth a naked male body would be in her bed at all, let alone wrapped round her.
Then she remembered.
Hugh.
She went hot as she thought about the previous night. The way he’d kissed her in the orangery among the fairy lights until she’d been dizzy. The way he’d actually carried her up to her bed. The way he’d undressed her, and then made love to her until she’d seen stars.
Right now, the way he was holding her made her feel special. Even though she wasn’t really Hugh’s girlfriend, and they weren’t in any kind of relationship other than that of employee and boss—just for a moment, Bella could imagine what it would be like if this was the real deal instead of an elaborate fiction. She’d spent the last six months feeling stupid and useless and pathetic, after Kirk’s betrayal. Last night, Hugh had made her feel good again. Not just the sex, either. He’d danced with her, laughed with her—believed in her.
Would last night have changed everything between them? They’d agreed that this was a one-off. No strings. No promises. No for ever. But could they still work together after this? Or would she have to resign?
They’d have to talk—really talk—and maybe redraw the ground rules.
Nothing fazes a Faraday girl, she reminded herself.
Except the mantra felt hollow.
Right now, she really didn’t know what to do. Did she stay where she was and wait for him to wake up? Or did she creep out of bed and get dressed—or would that make facing him even more awkward?
Hugh woke to find himself curled round a warm female body.
Bella.
He remembered the previous night in full Technicolor, and panic slid down his spine. Why had he been so stupid?
It was a physical thing, that was all, he told himself. It was obvious why it had happened. He hadn’t satisfied any physical urges for a while. Maybe it’d been the same for her. They’d both drunk too much champagne, they’d danced together, they found each other attractive, and they’d just given in to the temptation.
He sighed inwardly. Just who was he trying to kid?
If he was honest with himself, he’d been attracted to Bella since the first moment he’d met her. Her bright blue eyes, her bubbly personality, the way she opened her mouth and just said what was in her head without thinking it through. Not to mention the way she’d been there for her sister; Bella Faraday had a good heart. He really liked that about her.
But he still shouldn’t have let things go this far between them. They were going to have to talk, really talk, and redraw the ground rules. Because Bella was a great designer, perfect for Insurgo, and Tarquin would have his guts for garters if she left the company just because Hugh hadn’t been able to keep his hands—or anything else, for that matter—to himself.
He lay there, trying to think what to say. Even though they’d both agreed that last night was a one-off, would she feel differently this morning? And, if she did, how was he going to handle it?
He knew that Bella wasn’t like Jessie. But he just didn’t trust his own judgement any more. He didn’t want to take the risk of getting involved with anyone, so it was easier not to start something that was likely to end up in a mess.
Eventually he became aware that Bella’s breathing was no longer deep and even, and her body was slightly tense. Clearly she was awake.
Was she, too, remembering what had happened?
Did she, too, think about turning round and kissing him hello, the way he wanted to kiss her right now?
Or was she full of regrets and awkwardness and embarrassment?
Right now, he didn’t have a clue. But he knew he was going to have to do the right thing rather than ignoring the rest of the world and making love with her all over again. They had to talk.
‘Bella?’ he whispered.
‘Uh-huh.’ She sounded worried.
He resisted the urge to kiss her bare shoulder. No matter how much he wanted to touch her, taste her, he had to keep himself in check. Carefully, he withdrew his arms from round her. Odd how cold it made him feel. ‘I think we need to talk.’
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