Bound by Their Love (8 page)

‘Am I clear, Derek?' Luciano asked again, when her father failed to respond.

‘Yes, that's fine. Not an issue at all. I'll look forward to receiving the contracts.'

Luciano nodded and headed toward the door, pausing briefly in front of her. ‘Heather will be in touch and welcome aboard, Greta.'

He held out his hand and she took it, giving it a firm shake. ‘Thank you, Mr Morelli.'

‘It's Luciano and,' he paused, a small smile playing across his lips, like he knew a secret she didn't. ‘I believe I'm going to be seeing quite a lot of you.'

Luciano opened the door and walked out.

Before she had a chance to process what Luciano had meant by his parting words, Jeffrey placed a hand on her back; heat throbbed through the layers of her clothing, spreading out like a ripple on a still lake. She looked up at him, waiting for his next move.

He gave her a wink. ‘Later.'

She nodded. Later couldn't come quick enough for her.

Chapter 9

Jeffrey sat at the Palazzo Regent bar, waiting for Greta to arrive. The annoyance he'd felt toward her father had subsided. The way Derek had so easily dismissed Greta's abilities shocked him. For a fleeting moment he had been tempted to tell Derek he'd changed his mind. But he'd seen the look of utter despair on Greta's face. He knew then he couldn't hurt her. It didn't stop him wanting to find out why her father seemed to have such little faith in her abilities.

‘Hi.'

Jeffrey swivelled on his stool, glad he wasn't holding his drink. His body immediately surged to life. He had to stop himself from grabbing her hand and dragging her to his room. The three-quarter-length cream lace dress she wore hugged her body. Her hair was loose and curled softly over one shoulder. A tentative smiled played on her glossy red lips. He couldn't help himself and let his gaze shift down her body, following the long length of her legs. The anticipation of seeing what sort of shoes she had on coursed through him.

He groaned when he spied the sexy black and tan stilettos. They looked like a form of torture. Good torture. He couldn't wait until he could get a closer look at them.

‘You're killing me here, Angel.' He repeated the words he'd spoken to her that first afternoon.

She laughed. The seductive tone weaving its way around him, like a vine around a tree. ‘We can't have that now, can we?'

Jeffrey reached out and took hold of her hands. Pulling her toward him so she stood between his legs. The stress he'd seen etched earlier on her face was now gone. She looked poised and confident and sexy as all hell.

He'd promised himself he wasn't going to sleep with her. Even though it was what his body was screaming at him to do. He wanted to have a meal with her. Something they hadn't done before. He wanted to look at her over a table and get to know her. Find out everything about her.

‘So what are you going to do about it?' he asked, trailing a finger down her soft cheek. Her flowery fragrance enveloped him, reminding him of the beautiful gardens of Europe.

Her eyes lit up as she laughed. ‘Take me to dinner and you'll find out.'

Jeffrey didn't need to be told twice. Slipping off the stool, he wound an arm around her waist and pulled her close once again. ‘I think you'll like where I'm going to take you.'

Once they were outside the bar he stopped and turned her so she faced him. ‘I promise you, this time we will be eating a meal.'

‘Really? And do you always keeps your promises?' she said, as she stepped closer and ran her hand down his chest. Trailing her fingers across his belt buckle. His flesh stirred at her touch.

Damn, could she read his mind?

‘I guess some promises are made to be broken.'

‘Just not dinner promises,' she said cheekily.

God, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her right now. Right in the middle of the footpath. He didn't care anymore. Promise to himself or not.

He. Just. Wanted. Her.

Jeffrey made the move to take her in his arms. To forget about the dinner reservation and take her back to his suite upstairs.

‘Not so fast.' Her laughter tinkled on the air. ‘Dinner first and then, if you're lucky, you might be able to persuade me to have a nightcap.'

Jeffrey wondered who this person was, standing in front of him. He'd never her seen her this happy. Had her father spoken to her after he and Luc had left? Had winning the account put her in the good mood? If it had, he didn't blame her. When he'd completed a custom piece he always felt a sense of exhilaration and accomplishment. This time, though, when he'd completed the collection for Luc he'd had feeling of disquiet. Like he was losing a part of himself. When he'd been working on the collection he'd been connected to Greta in a way he'd never thought possible. The collection was his way of apologising to her for the way he'd acted. So when he'd finished, he'd felt he'd lost her. Knowing there was no chance of seeing her again.

Now they'd be working together for a while. He planned to make the most of it.

‘You're thinking very hard. Is everything all right?'

Jeffrey realised he'd been staring at her for a long time. ‘Everything's perfect, Angel. Just perfect.'

He gathered her close and headed down the street toward the restaurant. Nothing was going to spoil their evening. Nothing at all.

Greta couldn't contain her excitement. She had no idea where they were heading, she only hoped it wasn't too far away. Her shoes were beautiful but were definitely not made for walking. She'd seen the look of appreciation cross Jeff's face when he had seen them.

She had spent the better part of an hour looking for the shoes she'd worn in Broome, until remembering she'd left them behind. She hadn't wanted to be reminded of her time with Jeff. Now she wished she hadn't been so childish. She'd loved those shoes.

‘Here we are.'

Greta took in her surroundings; there were still people walking around, but not too many. It was midweek and most people didn't hang around in the city after they'd finished work. She lived on the edge of the central business district. The serviced apartment worked perfectly for her needs.

‘Have you been here before?' she asked. They stepped through the building's glass doors and walked to the lifts, which would whisk them up to the top floor to the revolving restaurant.

‘A very long time ago. I understand it's been updated a bit.'

‘Yes it has, there's a lounge bar now.'

‘I'll be interested to see what it looks like.'

‘The view hasn't changed too much. Just some areas are a little more blocked with taller buildings being constructed.'

Jeff ushered her into the lift. She hesitated fractionally. Memories of being stuck still fresh in her mind.

‘Don't worry,' Jeff whispered in her ear as he steered her into the empty cart. ‘I'll keep you safe.'

Goose flesh broke out over her skin at the feather touch of his lips on her ear. ‘That's good to know.'

She tried to sound nonchalant, as if his touch wasn't causing her body to short-circuit. On her way to meeting him, she'd been determined to hold him at arm's-length. He was a client. If it got back to her father that she and Jeff had slept together before she'd been awarded the account, he would have no doubt that she hadn't earned the account fairly and had only got it because of her previous involvement with Jeff.

‘Did I get the account because we'd slept together?' She hadn't meant to voice her thoughts but the words vomited out of her.

In the confines of the lift she had nowhere to hide from him. His body tensed and his gaze blazed hot with anger, whereas only moments ago his eyes had been fiery with passion.

‘Do you really believe that? Do you think I'd jeopardise the best damn collection of my life on a couple of hours we shared in bed?'

Greta took a step back, as if she'd been struck. The vehemence with which he'd fired the words at her gave her the formidable man he could be if crossed. She wished she could snatch the words back.

‘No. No, I don't believe that. It was just; I don't know. I started thinking and …' her voice trailed off.

‘Angel, I'm sorry for getting angry.' Jeff pulled her into his arms and placed a soft kiss on her hair. ‘You blew me away with your presentation. Luc needed a little convincing. In the end he could see your ideas were only going to showcase both the hotel and my jewellery.' He pulled her away from him so she had no option other than to look at him. ‘Besides, yours really was the best presentation. I was beginning to give up hope we'd find anything worthwhile.'

The lift doors opened, halting their conversation. They were greeted and shown to their table. Situated by the window, it gave them a spectacular view. She could see the ocean to the west. The setting sun's last rays cast a golden glow over the city, reminding her she lived in a beautiful city.

Once they'd given their waiter their drinks order, Greta asked a question she'd wanted to ask ever since Jeff had mentioned the other presentations.

‘Can I ask you something?'

‘Ask away.' He said looking at her over the top of his menu.

‘You don't have to answer it if you don't want to,' she added.

He laughed, a low rumble she was coming to enjoy hearing. ‘I promise if I don't want to answer it I'll let you know.'

‘Another promise? That's your second one tonight.'

‘I had no idea I had a promise limit. How many do I get?'

‘How many can you handle?'

‘Angel, I can handle many things,' he paused and leaned forward. ‘All at once, too.'

A shiver raked through her body, imagining all the ways Jeff could handle her. It would be so wrong to sleep with him again. But it would be so right. ‘I bet you could. But getting back to my question.'

‘Way to kill the mood.' He chuckled and shook his head.

A slow rise of heat warmed her cheeks. ‘I don't think it will take much to get it back,' she said wryly. ‘I wanted to ask, what was Graham's presentation like?'

When Jeff sat back in his chair, clasping his fingers together and placing them on the table, she had a feeling what he was about to say was going to be very interesting.

‘Have you ever done a presentation with Graham?

‘No, I haven't seen Graham present anything. We've always worked separately.'

‘I got the impression your father was pushing for you to work together.'

‘It may well have worked out that way. If Luciano hadn't stepped in, I can imagine what would've happened with the campaign.'

‘Which is?'

‘I'd have been pushed to the side, along with my ideas. My father is grooming Graham to take over the agency. There's no way he would've wanted me to get all the credit for your campaign.'

‘Then your father is short-sighted. If the way Graham presented the other day is an indication of how he'll run the business, then he's going to turn a profitable agency bankrupt.'

Shocked at Jeff's perception of Graham, it took her a few moments before she could form her next sentence. ‘He was that bad?'

‘Whether it was because he was intimidated by Luc, or it's how he always presents, I don't know. But the guy couldn't even put two sentences together without stammering over his words.'

Greta shook her head in denial. ‘I don't believe it. My father goes with Graham to every presentation, including yours. There's no way he'd let Graham put the agency at risk like that.'

‘Your father wasn't there, Angel,' he said softly. ‘He left after the introductions. He apologised, said he had to be somewhere else.'

‘This makes no sense at all,' she said, almost to herself. Why would her father employ someone who fumbled their way around a presentation?

‘Luc was almost going to cancel your presentation after seeing Graham's effort. Your agency was the only one with two appointments. But I told him to give you a chance. The appointment was made, seemed pointless to cancel it.' Jeff touched her hand briefly. It was enough to fire her blood to life. ‘Now I'm very happy that I did because I got to see you again.'

Another flush of heat warmed her cheeks. ‘I'm glad too. It was an honour to present my ideas to you. You really are talented, Jeff. Your designs take my breath away. Even the simple affordable designs. The ones I saw today were exquisite. I've never seen such beautiful jewellery.'

Jeff locked his eyes on her; his irises so dark they were almost black. It added to his reclusive reputation. They held a mystery she wanted to solve. ‘I was inspired, you could say.'

The waiter arrived, interrupting their conversation, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Once they'd ordered their meals and the waiter left, a slight awkwardness floated around them.

‘So tell me, did your father come and see you after Luc and I left today?'

‘No, he left straight after you did. Said he had an appointment to go to.'

‘He must be proud of you. You landed a huge account for his agency.'

Greta couldn't contain the snort of derision from escaping. ‘I doubt it. If Dad had his way, I'd still be working as a junior account manager. In that position I'd be as far away as possible from putting together a successful campaign.'

‘We went through your past campaigns, they were excellent. Why would your father think you incapable of handling accounts?'

‘I don't know. He's never told me why he doesn't trust me.'

‘Then why do you still work there? Why not go to another agency? I bet there would be plenty of agencies that would want to have a person as talented as you working for them.'

Greta glowed under his praise. ‘If only it was that easy. Dad is well respected in the advertising world. No one would touch me for fear of a reprisal from him. He has enough influence to blackball another agency if they hired me.'