Bound by Their Love (7 page)

Jeffrey couldn't help but laugh. ‘She's got you there, Luc. I like the idea. I think it could work.'

Greta inclined her head, acknowledging his support. ‘Thank you. Now, here are some other ideas.'

As Greta outlined more of what she could do for the collection, the more Jeffrey was convinced she was the right person to handle the account. Convincing Luc might be a different story. Jeffrey shifted his gaze to Nick, his other good friend, to see what his reaction was. Nick's attention was fixed on his assistant, Pamela, sitting beside him. There was something in Nick's look. Something he'd only seen once before. On the man who flanked him on the left side, Luc. Luc had looked at Jasmine the same way.

Interesting, it looked like another of his friends had succumbed to the love bug. Jeffrey turned his focus back to Greta, pondering what might have been if things had been different in Broome. If they'd parted on a better note.

He immediately squashed the thoughts of love. Lust was what he felt for Greta. He imagined he could spend a few weeks slaking that lust and then moving on. He didn't do long-term. He'd learned long ago, when he'd almost lost his life. Love wasn't for him.

Ever.

Chapter 8

Greta couldn't help it. Her eyes kept flicking to the boxes sitting at the far end of the table. The presentation had gone unbelievably well. Even after the shock of seeing who Jeffrey Courteux really was. She'd expected him to come up to her after the meeting, but he was talking to Luciano.

Her father's assistant approached her. ‘Your dad would've been impressed with your presentation. It was a great idea to ask if the designer had any pieces to show you. They were absolutely beautiful. I loved your ideas for exhibiting them at the opening.'

Greta loved her father's assistant. She knew Joan was trying to make her feel better about her father's lack of ap

pearance. ‘Thanks, it would've been nice for him to show up. But I've learned not to expect much from him. If I win this account, he'll have to notice me.'

‘I have no doubt. Umm,' Joan's attention darted away quickly, before returning to Greta. ‘I have to speak to someone, excuse me.'

Not giving her a chance to respond, Joan went toward the front of the room.

‘You were amazing, Angel.'

Greta took a few seconds to compose herself before facing Jeff. She slipped her presentation papers in her case and turned to face him. ‘Thank you, Mr Courteux. I'm pleased you liked the presentation.'

‘Mr Courteux? So formal.'

Formal was the only way she could handle the situation she now found herself in. ‘I can't refer to you as
Mr Court,
can I? Seeing as that's not your name.'

‘But it is my name, sort of. Just a shortened version.'

‘Apples and oranges. The fact remains you weren't entirely truthful with me.'

Jeff ran a hand through his hair, leaving some strands sticking up. Greta's fingers itched to smooth it down. She remembered the silky feel of his hair. The way she'd gripped his head when he'd been kissing her.

Her body shuddered and there was nothing she could do to stop it. God, she wanted to feel him fill her again. Take over her body and craft it into supplication, like he'd crafted the gorgeous pieces of jewellery on the table.

‘It was your ankle I imagined that ankle cuff surrounding when I designed it, Angel.' Jeff's words whispered over her.

‘Don't.' She sighed. ‘Don't do this, Jeff. It won't work.'

‘What won't work? I haven't been able to forget you for the last month. Every time I close my eyes I
see
you. I
want
you.'

Greta unconsciously swayed toward him. Wanting to be held in his arms again. She wanted to say yes. Yes, to everything he said. But she couldn't. If she did, a part of her would be lost. It had only taken one touch last time for her to forget all about the reason for her trip to Broome.

Standing straighter, she took a step away. ‘Well, I don't want you.'

Jeff laughed. ‘Liar.'

The sound of raised voices at the other end of the room had her turning around quickly. Her father's assistant looked like she was about to faint and Luciano's business partner, Nick, had a face like thunder.

‘What the hell just happened?'

‘I don't know. But I need to find out.' Jeff answered, before striding off.

Making sure she had everything, she made her way toward Joan. Greta could see the woman who had been sitting next to Nick talking to Joan. As she approached, she could see both women were deep in conversation. Perhaps it was best to leave Joan in the other woman's capable hands. She'd had a hell of day already and didn't need an emotional female on her hands. As callous as it sounded, she wanted to escape the situation she found herself in and take some time to regroup. To work through exactly what seeing Jeff again meant.

‘Don't go yet.' Jeff said, as he materalised by her side again. Why couldn't he just leave her the hell alone?

‘I have to get back to the office. I missed the whole morning and I'll have a lot to catch up on.'

‘Ahh, yes, you said something about delivering a baby, didn't you?'

Greta heard the speculation in his voice and she didn't like it.

‘Are you suggesting I made it up, Mr Courteux?'

He laughed softly. ‘No, I'm not suggesting that at all. But you have to admit, if you'd heard someone declare the reason they were late was because they'd delivered a baby, it would sound suspicious.'

She couldn't deny there was some truth in his words. It didn't mean she couldn't still be offended that he'd doubted her.

‘I suppose so, but I don't lie.'

Greta held her breath as Jeff took a step closer to her, running a finger down her arm. ‘I believe you.'

‘Thank you,' she murmured, and glanced at her watch. ‘I need to go.'

His hand curled around her arm, halting her attempt to walk away. ‘Have dinner with me.'

‘I don't think that's a good idea.' Memories of a previous conversation, where the same words were uttered, filtered through her mind. She couldn't let herself be talked into dinner this time. ‘We don't have a great track record when it comes to sharing a meal together, do we?'

Jeff went to pull her closer. Twisting her arm, she broke away from his hold and took a step back. She couldn't let Joan or the intern see Jeff touching her.

‘Please, Angel. Let's have dinner and talk.'

Greta knew he wouldn't give up until she caved. If she was honest with herself, dinner sounded like the perfect way to end the day.

‘Fine. Call me at the office. I'm sure Heather, Luciano's assistant, has the number for the agency.

With that she turned and walked out of the room, not sure she wanted to return.

Greta collapsed in her office chair after returning from a late lunch, wishing she was home on her couch. She looked at the pile of messages sitting in a neat stack on her desk and dreaded opening her computer. Her phone had been buzzing with incoming emails and text messages on the cab ride back to the office and while she grabbed some food. She'd ignored them all.

She looked up as her door opened and almost screamed in frustration at the person standing in the doorframe.

Yes, her day could get worse.

‘What do you want, Graham?'

He slunk into her office, like the slime ball that he was, and sat down. She was surprised he hadn't left a slime trail. ‘Thought I'd check in to see how your presentation went. I heard you were late. Tsk tsk, not a good way to make a first impression.'

Everything in her wanted to slap the smile off his face. Greta restrained herself. Giving in to his attempts to get a rise out of her wasn't on her agenda today.

‘It doesn't matter what you think. Anyway, we'll know in a couple of days who the account will be awarded to. Who knows, maybe neither of us will win it. Maybe another agency will get the account.'

Please let me be wrong. Please let me win the account. Even if it means I have to see Jeff on a regular basis.

Graham laughed. ‘If anyone is going to win the account it will be me. I have no doubt.'

Greta had enough of his smarmy attitude. ‘Just leave, Graham. Oh, and before you go. Nothing is guaranteed. I nailed my presentation
and
I got to see some of the collection. Did you?'

As his eyes narrowed at her declaration, satisfaction at having bested him flowed through her. ‘You saw some of the pieces? How?'

‘I asked.'

‘Good, you're both here. I need to see you in my office. Now.' Another voice entered the conversation—her father, Derek Adamas.

Nice to see you too, Dad.

There was an excitement about her father's demeanour. Surely that didn't mean a decision had been made about the account?

‘Sure, Dad. What's this all about?'

‘You'll find out when you get there. Come, Graham.' Her father slapped Graham on the back.

Really? Couldn't he give her the same treatment? Slip an arm around her shoulders and lead her to his office?

When was the last time her father had shown her any sort of affection? No matter how much love she showed him, he never reciprocated.

Greta followed the men out of her office and down the hallway to her father's corner office. Jealousy enveloped her at seeing her father's animated face as he talked to Graham. She'd done everything her father had asked and more. She'd tried as hard as she could to act like a cold-hearted executive, and still it wasn't enough for him. He'd brought Graham into the agency and had been grooming him for a position that was rightfully hers.

As she entered the office, the last people she expected to see were the two men sitting casually on the couch by the window.

Luciano Morelli and Jeff. Jeff had his sunglasses on. It was slowly becoming clear to her the reason why he wore his glasses. They were a way of keeping himself distant from people. His lips lifted in a small smile. A smile she knew was only for her.

Her father went around to his side of the desk. Not wanting to sit down, Greta stayed by the closed door.

She had no idea what was about to happen. It seemed unlikely that a powerful man like Luciano Morelli would come to the agency to let them know they'd won the account. Wouldn't he request a meeting with her father at his own office? But why would they be here if they weren't getting the account?

Her father cleared his throat, pulling her from her thoughts. There was so much testosterone swirling among the men. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at Graham fidgeting in the lounge chair he sat in. He looked so out of his league next to Luciano and Jeff.

‘Thank you for getting everyone together at short notice,' Luciano started as he looked around the room, his vision resting for a fraction longer on her than anyone else.

‘The pleasure is all ours,' her father responded. ‘How can we help you, gentlemen?'

‘We were very impressed with one of presentations from your agency. The ideas were innovative and fresh. We could see them complementing the collection.'

‘Well I can assure you, Graham will be able to give you a topnotch campaign.'

Typical, thought Greta. Why did he immediately assume it was Graham's campaign they were choosing? Why didn't he think it could be his daughter's campaign they wanted? The daughter who'd learned everything she knew from him.

Luciano's eyebrow rose at her father's assertion Graham's presentation was the winning one. ‘What makes you think we've chosen Graham's presentation? There were two presentations from your firm.'

The words may have been spoken casually, but Greta caught the quick look that passed between Luciano and Jeff.

‘No, no,' Dad blustered, something she wasn't used to seeing from him. ‘I'm sure Greta did a wonderful job.'

Luciano nodded. ‘She did a wonderful job. In fact, would you like to do the honours, Jeffrey?'

Greta's heart raced against her chest. Surely Luciano wasn't suggesting they were going with her presentation? She wanted to believe it could happen. Having been disappointed so many times, she couldn't let herself believe she was about to be awarded the biggest account of her career.

‘Thanks, Luc.' Jeffrey stood, pulled his glasses off and walked the short distance to her dad's desk. He hitched up his trousers to sit on the corner of the desk. ‘Well, Derek, Greta's campaign is the one we've chosen to go with. Her concepts are not only fresh and exciting, but they're innovative as well. The ideas she came up with for the opening event will not only spotlight the collection, but also Regent Hotels for the Morelli Corporation. Greta represented your agency with extreme professionalism. You should be proud of her.'

So this was what it felt like to have someone believe in you. Someone who didn't doubt she couldn't do her job. Someone who saw her for who she was.

Jeff walked toward where she stood. He stopped in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat at the admiration in his eyes. ‘Congratulations, Ang—Greta.'

‘Thank you,' she whispered.

‘Thank you for giving the Adamas Agency the opportunity to handle your account.' Derek pulled out the typical acceptance line. ‘I'm sure both Greta and Graham will do a fabulous job for you.'

Really? Her father was still pushing Graham onto the account?

Luciano stood and looked directly at her father. ‘I think you're under a misconception here, Derek. Graham won't have anything to do with this account. The Morelli Corporation and Jeffrey Courteux will work exclusively with Greta. It's her ideas we liked. It's her we're going to work with. No one else.' Luciano paused and looked between her father and Graham. ‘And if I find that someone else has been forced upon Greta, we will terminate the contract.'

She'd never seen her father speechless, until this moment. He wanted the account too much to go against someone as powerful and influential as Luciano Morelli. But the thought of giving his daughter total control of an account probably grated. The time had come for him to trust her, and if he couldn't do this for her then the time had come to step away from working with her father.