Sarah Holland - An Obsessive Love

‘Whatever your name is,’ he drawled sardonically, blue eyes glittering as he strode round the desk towards her, ‘I told you we’d meet again.’

‘She just barged in, sir!’ The secretary was hovering in a panic.

‘Yes, that’s quite all right, Miss West. You can go. I’ll deal with Miss Carne.’

‘Oh, you’ll deal with me, will you?’ Natasha said in a shaking voice as the door closed and she was alone with him. ‘You’ll deal with me, will you, Mr Thorne?’ Her hands flew to her hair, to the severe chignon. Unpinning the clips, she tossed them on to the floor. ‘You’ll deal with me, will you?’

‘I——’ He was staring at her in some confusion.

‘Maybe I’ll deal with you!’ Her dark red hair tumbled free, silky curls falling to her waist as her green eyes spat fire. ‘Maybe that’s precisely what you need!’

‘Miss Carne, I really——’

‘How’s this?’ She unbuttoned her grey jacket, too angry to think about what she was doing, and the powerful dark-haired man in front of her caught his breath as her cream camisole was revealed, full breasts rising and falling below the thin silk and lace.

He stared, a dark flush rising on his cheekbones.

‘And this!’ She reached up, caught him by the neck, and pulled his dark head down to kiss him fiercely, angrily on the mouth.

Dominic Thorne swayed on his feet.

‘See?’ She shoved angrily at him, her eyes blazing. ‘I do like men! I just prefer to select my own!’ Turning on her heel, she stormed over to the door. ‘And by the way—you can take your job and stick it up your exhaust pipe, because I won’t be staying here another second!’

‘Wait!’ A strong hand slammed the door shut just as she opened it, and she looked up furiously to see him towering beside her, blue eyes glittering in heavy-lidded, black lash-fringed sockets. ‘What the hell am I supposed to make of all that? Why are you giving up your job here? What was all that about?’

‘Oh, come on, Mr Thorne! Don’t tell me you don’t know? You made yourself very plain in the lift this morning. A pity I didn’t recognise your smutty tone of voice for——’

‘I am never smutty,’ he bit out harshly. ‘And I genuinely don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!’

‘The rumours that I’m frigid!’ she spat, quivering, red hair blazing around her slim shoulders, strands of it soft against the creamy swell of her breasts, the severe grey jacket open still to reveal the hidden sensuality of her silk camisole. ‘That I don’t like men, don’t like sex, and deserve the nickname Natasha Can’t! Just because I’ve turned you and all your despicable locker-room friends down——’

‘Now wait just a minute! It’s true that I had been told you’d turned down every man in the building. But I did not know they were calling you either frigid or Natasha Can’t!’

‘Liar!’

‘Why should I lie?’

‘To avoid a nasty court case?’ Her voice was fierce with the threat. ‘Do you have any idea how completely against the law this behaviour—?’

‘If you’re threatening a lawsuit, I’d very much like to know what kind. Are you frigid?’

Natasha tried to slap his face, her eyes blazing.

He caught her hand easily, strong fingers biting into her wrist, eyes overpowering hers, commanding authority easily over her with his superior male strength.

She wriggled angrily. ‘Let me go!’

‘A charge of sexual harassment,’ he bit out, ‘is going to be damaging to both my reputation and that of this company. Now, I want to know exactly what I’ll be facing if you do decide to make an official complaint. Is the treatment you’ve received a genuine case of harassment? And if so, how severe? What precisely has happened? Have the men hounded you for sexual favours? Have they tried to use power over you within the company in exchange for sex? Has anyone assaulted or molested you?’

‘Nothing like that!’ she said rawly. ‘But they have asked me out continually, made insulting remarks when I refused, and now this vile nickname, all the sniggering behind my back, calling me frigid and——’

‘Well? Are you frigid?’

‘No, I am not!’ she shouted hoarsely, mouth shaking, and suddenly the flash of vulnerability in her green eyes made her tear her gaze from his, looking down, suddenly afraid she might burst into uncontrollable tears at any moment.

He stared down at her bent, fiery head for a second in silence.

Natasha struggled not to cry. It was very hard. Waves of emotion, pain and rage and humiliation, were flooding her. Both from the past, and from the present. Suddenly she could see nothing ahead, either, but more pain and rage and humiliation.

Suddenly she couldn’t bear her life any more, or what she’d become, because of that swine Tony Kerr.

‘Hey…’ Dominic Thorne became gentle as he saw her tears and the effort she was making to control them. ‘Please don’t cry.’

‘I’m not going to cry!’ Her voice shook with rigid pride.

‘OK…’ He stared intently at her, compassion darkening his blue eyes. ‘But you’ve been shaken up and you’re reacting emotionally. Come on…don’t let them get to you.’

Natasha wanted to cry even harder. But she was afraid to accept his tenderness, because it reminded her stingingly of the pity one or two people had shown her four years ago, and it made her feel it was still here, it would never end, she would never, ever be free of it.

‘If you’re so damned sympathetic,’ Natasha asked rawly, stepping away from him, her face hurt and pale, ‘and you genuinely don’t know anything about this—why did you ask me up here?’

‘To offer you a job,’ he drawled with a sardonic twist to his hard mouth.

It was such a shock that she just stood there, staring at him.

‘I certainly didn’t expect this kind of reaction from you, but clearly something else has been going on in this building that I ought to know about.’ He watched her with those hypnotic blue eyes and said coolly, ‘So why don’t you sit down, calm down, and let’s discuss the matter properly?’ He put strong hands on her shoulders and led her over to the chair opposite his desk.

‘I’m not a helpless child!’ she said, prickling against any show of kindness or compassion.

‘No, you’re a tempestuous female,’ he drawled sardonically, and then ran one strong hand over her rigid, angry neck-muscles, ‘and you’re horribly tense.’

‘Wouldn’t you be?’ she spat, hating him.

‘Probably,’ he drawled, ‘but I always have the most satisfying option of punching men in the face when they annoy me. You can hardly do that, can you? So I recommend a good stiff drink to calm you down. What’ll you have?’ He crossed the room to a drinks cabinet. ‘A shot of brandy?’

‘I never drink brandy.’

‘High time you started, then.’ He poured some into a tumbler.

Natasha was still trembling, her slim white hands clutching the open lapels of her grey jacket to hide the silky camisole. She knew she couldn’t do the buttons up just yet. She was still shaking too much, so she just sat there, clutching her lapels, and wondering what on earth he had really asked her up here for. Was he serious about offering her a job, or had that been a ruse to stop her filing an official complaint and taking his precious company to court?

‘So who, precisely, is behind this sexual harassment?’ Dominic strode over to her with a glass of brandy. ‘Tell me the names of the——

‘Later,’ she said, eyes suspicious in case he was trying to soften her up. ‘First tell me about this job you planned to offer me. What exactly does it entail?’

‘It’s a secretarial position, working privately for a bestselling historical novelist.’ He perched on the edge of the desk, watching her with a cool smile. ‘My mother, in point of fact.’