Hot For Him Part 11

He wasn't deaf to her unspoken message. As his brother had said, she'd been handpicked by people who cared.

"When would you like to have dinner, Stella?" he asked, cutting to the chase.

"I've got exams the next two weeks. Did Dom tell you I'm getting my teaching degree at night school?"

"He mentioned it. How's it going?"

"I'm surviving. How does a week from Friday sound?"

Two weeks away. He felt oddly...relieved. What was that about?

"Suits me. Shall I pick you up or would you prefer to have an escape route?" he asked.

"Oooh, tough choice. Why don't we live dangerously?"

He jotted down her address and they agreed on a time.

"Looking forward to it, Stella," he said before he ended the call.

"Me, too," she said, her voice full of soft promise.

He poured himself another finger of whiskey and sank down into his well-worn armchair.

He had a date with a nice, baby-craving, family-oriented Greek girl. Exactly what he wanted, right?

So why was he still pondering what to send Claudia tomorrow?

CLAUDIA LIFTED HER HEAD slowly on Friday morning as Gabby slid a box onto her desk.

"Another parcel for you," her a.s.sistant said.

"So I see."

"Would you like me to throw this one away?" Gabby asked.

"That's fine. I can take care of it," Claudia said calmly.

She didn't feel calm. The frog yesterday had almost broken her. She'd taken one look into its bulging amphibian eyes and felt an overwhelming need to find a tender, vulnerable part of Leandro's anatomy and plant her fist in it. Why wouldn't the man take no for an answer?

But the last thing she was going to do was betray her feelings to her gossipy a.s.sistant. Lord only knew what Gabby thought was going on between Claudia and Leandro. No doubt there were scuttleb.u.t.t-laden rumors doing the rounds of the office already, thanks to this stupid campaign of his. Another thing she could thank Mr. Arrogant for. It wasn't enough that flashbacks to their night together had ruined every night's sleep she'd had so far this week. No, he also had to turn her into a laughing stock in her own place of work.

Having lingered for as long as she could without actually having an excuse, Gabby sighed heavily and retreated to her desk. A few seconds later, Sadie and Grace appeared in Claudia's office doorway.

"h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo. What have we here?" Grace asked, sauntering forward to examine the bright aqua box on Claudia's desk.

Claudia realized they'd been on the lookout for Leandro's latest delivery. It was becoming a regular workplace occurrence, like the arrival of the mail or the morning coffee round.

"What do you think it is this time? I was thinking a yellow ribbon," Sadie suggested.

"Nah-that's for remembrance, not cowardice," Grace said, studying the box.

"Do you mind?" Claudia asked snappily. "Some of us are trying to work here."

"Can we open it?" Grace asked, ignoring Claudia's outburst.

"Yeah, can we, huh, huh?" Sadie asked, doing her best imitation of a kid on Christmas day.

"For Pete's sake," Claudia said, exasperated. She thrust the box toward them. "Take it away, do whatever you like with it. I'm not interested," she said.

"Sure you aren't. We'll just open it here," Grace said archly.

Sadie tugged on the big purple bow wrapping the box, and Grace removed the lid.

They both frowned down into the box for a long beat.

"What is it?" Sadie asked, frowning.

"I don't know. I mean, I get what it is, but what's it meant to symbolize?" Grace looked puzzled.

"Longevity? Because of the nine lives thing, do you think?" Sadie asked.

Claudia told herself to keep her eyes on her notepad, to keep writing, to ignore them. But she'd never been good at self-denial. Not knowing what was in the box was killing her.

Throwing her pen down, she pulled the box toward herself. Sitting in the bottom amongst a nest of purple tissue paper was the most timid, beseeching, terrified looking toy cat she'd ever seen in her life.

"What do you think it's supposed to be?" Sadie prompted.

"It's a scaredy cat," Claudia said through gritted teeth.

"Of course it is! He's a real smarty-pants, isn't he?" Grace said admiringly. "I would never have thought of that."

"This is ridiculous," Claudia said. "It's getting out of hand."

"Then tell him to stop. Have you called him yet?" Sadie asked.

"No. That's exactly what he wants," Claudia said, hands on hips. "I'm not giving him what he wants-he'll think he's won."

Grace gave her a look. "That's one way of looking at it. Or...you could just let the man know he's barking up the wrong tree."

"Look, I don't want to speak to him, okay?" Claudia snapped. She could still remember the smoky ba.s.s of his voice curling around her from their last phone conversation. "You have no idea how persuasive he is, how s.e.xy his voice is. I can't stop thinking about him, and I don't like it and-" She broke off as Sadie and Grace stared at her. Realization dawned, and Claudia sat back in her office chair, profoundly shocked.

"My G.o.d. He's right," she said, forcing herself to face a painful truth. "I am a scaredy cat! I'm afraid to call him. I'm afraid of how much power he has over me."

There was a stunned silence for a long beat, then, good friends that they were, Sadie and Grace stepped into the breach.

"I totally understand. You're really into your career right now, you don't want to be distracted," Sadie said. "Your contract is up for renewal soon, you want to put your best foot forward. Being producer is a big job."

"Just because you know what you want doesn't mean you're afraid," Grace said.

Claudia made a rude sound in the back of her throat. It was bull, and they all knew it. She'd been using work and the contest of wills between her and Leandro and the conflict of interest issue as convenient excuses to mask her true feelings. When she was with him, she felt on fire, out of control. And she was a woman who prided herself on being in control of herself and her life. She had a five-year plan, a ten-year plan. She knew what she wanted to be-and Leandro had no place in any of it.

Standing, she reached for her car keys. She'd never backed down from a challenge in her life. She might be scared of the intensity of her reaction to him, but that didn't mean she couldn't conquer it, control it, the way she had everything else life had ever thrown at her.

"What are you doing, Claud?" Sadie asked as Claudia s.n.a.t.c.hed up her handbag as well.

"I'm not a chicken," she said through gritted teeth, already on her way out the door.

"Claud," Grace called urgently.

Despite the fact that every cell in her body was focused on proving something to herself and Leandro, Claudia forced herself to pivot on her heel.

"Yep?"

"You might need this," Grace said, pulling out something she had tucked inside her bra.

Claudia automatically caught the shiny silver packet: a single condom, still warm from Grace's body heat.

"Just in case," Grace said.

"Why do you have a condom in your bra?" Sadie asked dryly, c.o.c.king her head at her friend.

"Just in case," Grace repeated, deadpan.

CLAUDIA PURPOSELY DIDN'T think as she drove across town to where Heartlands was filmed. She certainly didn't acknowledge the tremble of trepidation in the pit of her stomach.

As she'd said to her friends, she was no chicken, and she'd do whatever it took to prove it.

Including giving in to her secret desire to have Leandro Mandalor again, no matter how much that challenged her view of her life and her future.

She didn't bother waiting for the receptionist to buzz her through when she arrived. A long time ago she'd interviewed for an a.s.sistant's role on the show, and she had a rough idea of the office layout.

"I'll show myself through," she rea.s.sured the receptionist blithely as she sailed past.

It seemed only fair to ambush him, since he'd ambushed her every day so far.

She paused on the other side of reception and scanned the office area quickly. She spotted his office to her left, smiling a feline smile of satisfaction when she saw he was holding an open-door meeting with two of his staff.

They'd have an audience-perfect.

Chin high, she strode toward his office, her gaze pinned to his downturned head. He glanced up when she was still several paces from his doorway, and she saw the arrested expression in his eyes as he sat back in his chair.

She'd surprised him. Even more perfect.

"Claudia," he said when she arrived on the threshold.

But she didn't stop there. Ignoring the eye-popping stares of his staff, she rounded his desk, slid her hands around his neck and into his thick, dark hair, and lowered her mouth to his to deliver her best take-no-prisoners, tongue-till-Tuesday French kiss.

For a second he froze, and she felt an intense thrill of satisfaction. Scared, her a.s.s! Then she lost her balance as he tugged her into his lap, taking control of the kiss now as he bent her back over his arm, completely disregarding the two members of his team who were probably taking notes on every nuance of their lip-lock.

He crushed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his chest, his tongue telling her in no uncertain terms what he'd like to do to the rest of her. Her body was more than up for it, already aching for his touch. Beneath her b.u.t.t, she felt the distinct, arousing firmness of his burgeoning erection, and she gave a feminine murmur of approval.

He'd so successfully scrambled her brains and hijacked her purpose that she was about to slide her hand down onto his crotch when someone in the room cleared their throat. She stiffened as she remembered where she was, what she was doing, and who was watching her.

Leandro reluctantly broke their kiss, and she was eternally grateful for the fact that he slid a hand onto the nape of her neck and held her face against his shoulder, guarding her privacy, as he spoke to his people.

"I'm going to take an early lunch, guys," he said in an admirably deadpan tone. "I'll leave you to decide between the two actors on our short list, okay? I'm happy with either."

"Sure thing, boss," someone said, and then Claudia heard the scuff of feet and the shuffle of papers as they made themselves scarce.

"It's times like these I hate the interior designer who made these offices out of Plexiglas," Leandro murmured ruefully as he ran a hand over her hip.

"Do you really think I'm going to go at it with you in your office after that display we just put on?" Claudia asked, desperately trying to cover how good it felt to be in his arms again, how much she'd craved his taste, his touch.

"Thirty seconds ago, you were about to," he reminded her.

Aware that he was smiling like a particularly self-satisfied Cheshire cat, Claudia pushed against his arms, trying to win her way free of his lap. It was one thing to take up his challenge, and another thing to put herself entirely in his hands. Leandro just grinned and tipped his chair back, overbalancing her into his chest again.

"Let me up," she demanded.

"Not until you tell me why you're here," he said.

"You want me to draw a diagram?" she asked.

"I want to hear you admit I was right," he said, grinning down into her face.

Yeah, right, she was going to admit she'd been afraid of the powerful connection between them. She might be in his lap, but she wasn't brain-dead. She grinned right back at him.

"Not a chance in h.e.l.l, pal." She slid a hand between their bodies, finding the undeniable evidence that his need was a powerful as hers. Confident that his desk and computer shielded them from the general office view, she rubbed him through his jeans.

"Now, are you going to do something with this or are we going to argue for the rest of my lunch break?"

6.

HE HAD HER OUTSIDE the production office and standing by the elevator bank in about five seconds flat. She smiled to herself as she noted the way he was holding his jacket draped in front of his body, conveniently masking the tent pole in his pants.