Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe? (28 page)

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Authors: Hazel Osmond

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe?
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‘Just like that?’ she said, wide-eyed.

Jack nodded and undid his seat belt before reaching round her and undoing hers.

‘It’s dark out there … What’s the worst that can happen?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Some guy walking his dog is going to go home with a smile on his face.’ Jack’s voice was low and husky, like grey smoke. He had his hand on her seat and she could feel the heat of his skin against her own. ‘C’mon, Ellie, look me in the eye and tell me you’re not tempted.’

It was pointless trying to lie to him. The thought of having sex with him on his new red leather upholstery out here in the countryside scared her, but the minute
he’d said it, she’d felt herself getting aroused. So when she did look him in the eye, she said nothing. He held her gaze and she thought it was one of the sexiest looks anybody had ever given her.

Jack laughed softly and brushed his lips against hers. ‘OK, then. You better climb in the back first.’ Ellie made a move and Jack shot out an arm. ‘Take your knickers off here. There’s not much room back there for undressing.’

Panic and excitement roared through her and from the smile on Jack’s face Ellie felt that he was somehow pushing her, testing to see how she would react and whether she would keep pace with him.

She lifted up her skirt, hooked her thumbs in the top of her knickers and wriggled until they were down past her thighs. Then she pulled them right down and off. Jack held out his hand and she dropped them into it.

‘Wow, Ellie,’ he said, ‘they’re almost on fire. Strange how that could be considering how damp they are.’ That glittering look burned into her and Ellie blushed and felt a spasm of lust thread its way right through her belly.

Jack slowly pocketed her knickers. ‘Over you go, then, don’t dawdle.’

With some difficulty Ellie scrambled into the back seat, her legs wobbling, and soon Jack was on top of her and they were having sex like frenzied teenagers. One of Jack’s arms was braced against the headrest of the driver’s seat and she couldn’t move much, but it felt tight and sweaty
and wonderful. They were both noisy and demanding and impatiently grabbed at whatever bits of flesh they could wrench free from clothing. It was over too quickly and it was the naughtiest, filthiest thing Ellie had ever done in her life. She lay under Jack panting and laughing until she got the hiccups.

Later, when they were back in the front seats and Ellie had done up the buttons on her blouse, Jack said, ‘See, the sky didn’t fall on your head.’

There was something about his tone that annoyed her, something a little too smug, as though he were the teacher and she some inhibited pupil.

It had too many echoes of Sam’s ‘timid and stale’ quote, and she wasn’t having it.

‘Jack,’ she said sweetly, as he put the key in the ignition, ‘can I drive home?’

‘Very funny, Ellie,’ Jack said, and went to turn the key.

‘I’m not joking,’ she said firmly. ‘I’d like to drive home. I’ve done something I was really quite scared about and now it’s your turn.’

There was a look of disbelief on Jack’s face. ‘You must be joking. I’ve only had this since yesterday.’

‘I want to drive home, Jack,’ she said again with more determination.

‘No way.’ Jack started the car. ‘Put your seat belt on.’

‘No, I want to drive home.’

‘There is no way I am letting you drive my new car.’ He
gave a laugh that got Ellie even more annoyed, the kind of laugh that seemed to say, ‘Only an idiot would let you drive this car.’

‘Why? Are you afraid I’m going to mess it up? You didn’t seem to care whether I messed up the back seat.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Ah, I see. So you’re the kind of man who doesn’t mind having sex with a woman in the back seat of his car but wouldn’t let the woman actually drive his car? Interesting. Very enlightened. Perhaps you’d be happier if I got out and walked home? Got any laundry I can do for you when I get there?’

Ellie saw Jack take a deep breath and then turn the engine off. He slammed both his hands on the steering wheel and muttered something and Ellie had to look out of her window to hide her smile.

‘OK,’ Jack said at last, ‘you can drive home, but if you scratch her, if you dent her, I will personally take both your—’

‘I get the picture,’ Ellie said, and was out of her seat and racing round to the driver’s side in an instant.

Jack unfolded himself from the car and walked round to the passenger door as if his feet were made of lead. Ellie saw him run his hand sadly over the bonnet as he passed.

‘Right, she’s very responsive,’ Jack said when they were ready to set off. ‘Be gentle.’

Ellie didn’t move and after a while Jack said, ‘Well, come on, let’s get it over with. Start her up.’

‘I can’t. I never learned to drive.’ Ellie started to giggle. ‘I just wanted to see if you would let me, that’s all.’

Jack’s face was impassive, although Ellie thought she saw his mouth twitch at one point. Then she definitely saw him narrow his eyes and it made her stop giggling.

‘Ellie,’ he said in a silken tone she hadn’t heard before, ‘have you ever made love in the open air up against a tree?’

Jack dropped Ellie off and watched her go into the house, thinking how dishevelled and downright gorgeous she looked. That was most definitely it now. The final fling. Well, two flings. His suit had grass stains on it, or whatever it was that grew on the bark of trees, and his thighs ached like hell. Then he thought of Ellie pulling that stunt about driving home and laughed out loud. She’d wrapped him right round her little finger, really had him on the back foot, making him out to be some kind of Neanderthal.

Which was another reason to get the hell out. She was getting inside his head. If he called an end to it now, they both still had over a week to let it all die down.

She was bloody gorgeous, though, and when she’d hitched up her skirt and taken her knickers off … Jack turned the engine off and slid down slightly in his seat
and closed his eyes. She’s been scared and she’d still done it; he’d felt her trembling underneath him. That almost sent him over the edge before he’d even got inside her.

Yeah, our Ellie had layers and layers waiting to be unpeeled. Feistiness, then vulnerability, then … Jack opened his eyes and sat back up abruptly. Well, those layers were going to have to be unwrapped by somebody else. Tonight was a bad idea and now that was most definitely it.

He’d stop it right now and then Ellie wouldn’t get the wrong idea, try to make it into some kind of relationship. And he could get back to thinking about her as one of his copywriters. Tomorrow evening he was busy with a client meeting and then he’d probably give that judge a ring. He was sure he still had her number on that screwed-up piece of paper in his suit. She had nice eyes and she was definitely up for it. It was exactly what he needed: a no-strings-attached encounter. No danger of getting his emotions tangled up.

Jack tried to imagine the judge naked but couldn’t quite conjure her up, and then suddenly someone rapped on the car window and he jumped in his seat and nearly choked himself with the seat belt. It was Ellie. Hell, what did she want now? Jack wound the window down.

‘Please, sir,’ she said, and gave him a sexy smile that kicked in near his stomach, ‘can I have my knickers back?’

CHAPTER 26
 

Ellie watched the river flowing past and sipped her wine. It was so cold it was giving her a headache. Or perhaps the real reason for her headache was currently sprawled out asleep on the sofa. Ellie turned to look at Jack lying under a black throw and then decided she’d better not. She turned her attention back to the river, but Jack’s slow, steady breathing invaded her thoughts and she found herself sitting on the arm of the sofa looking down at him.

Without those grey eyes boring into her, it was possible to make a frank assessment of him. Really, that nose was too big and sharp, and his lips were a little too narrow. But they were beautifully effective lips; if Ellie concentrated, she could still feel them moving, slow and hot, down her belly. And those eyelashes … she’d had to fork out £12.68 in Boots to buy a pair like that.

Ellie reached forward and gently sorted out the little peaks and ruffles in his hair.

Sitting here looking at Jack was a bad idea. An extremely
bad idea. Ellie stood up and went around the room picking up bits of her clothing. Hard to believe it was only a week since she’d been here the first time, ringing the bell and waiting for him to open the door. And then getting beautifully ground into the carpet under him.

Ellie remembered how nervous she had been. Now she was still nervous but for entirely different reasons. She was thinking about him all the time, forgetting that he was, at the end of the day, her boss. She was turning a blind eye to his ‘slash and burn’ approach to women. Yesterday he had done his disappearing act again, but today, one call from him late into the evening, an invitation to ‘come round’, and she’d been in a taxi like a shot. How stupid.

And when she’d arrived, he had barely spoken to her except for a few gruff commands. Although he had made up for it during the sex bit. Well, more than made up for it. Ellie let a little giggle escape, remembering the way Jack had hit his head on the overhead light fitting.

But really, it was no laughing matter.

She wandered over to have another look at him and knew that she was immeasurably glad that there was a face like that in the world.

Then she tuttutted at her own romantic stupidity.

She took herself off to the bedroom, got dressed and let herself out of the flat.

But she might as well still have been in his flat looking
down at him rather than sitting on the Tube wishing that she was.

Saturday night and Ellie had a couple of failed attempts to get the key in the front door before she managed it. That last round of flaming sambucas had been a mistake. Whose idea had it been? Liz’s? Caroline’s? Julia’s? Then Ellie remembered. It had been hers.

Still, good night out. Nice to catch up on the gossip, although they could have probably done without Liz’s rant about her boyfriend. They’d heard it all before. Liz told them what an inconsiderate turnip he was, they agreed, and then next time they saw her, she was still with him. It was like a loop she couldn’t get out of.

Ellie had thought about dropping in something about Jack a couple of times to distract Liz, but decided against it. Everyone would ask her what was going on and she had no answer to that.

Ellie tiptoed along the hallway, bumping gently against the walls and trying not to look at the swirly wallpaper. For once, she wanted to get upstairs without seeing Edith. Plain walls and a soft bed were what she needed, and perhaps a couple of paracetamol and a pint of water. Or a stomach pump.

Ellie could hear voices coming from Edith’s sitting room. That settled it. She definitely couldn’t face making polite chit-chat.

She concentrated very hard on how she was going to climb the stairs, but before she had even got past the sitting room door, she heard Edith call out, ‘Ellie darling, is that you? How was your girls’ night out?’

Ellie hesitated and then turned round and pushed open the door to the room. ‘It was good, Edith, very enjoyable. Liz went on a bit, but I think—’

Ellie figured she must be absolutely paralytic because Jack appeared to be sitting down next to Edith playing Scrabble. He had a look of deep concentration on his face and was rubbing his bottom lip slowly with his thumb.

‘Hello,’ he said without looking up. He was wearing jeans and that dark-blue shirt again that made him look about ten years younger than he did at work. Flip-flap went Ellie’s stomach, and she fully expected to see the flaming sambucas again.

‘Come on now, Big Jack,’ Edith said, ‘you’ve got to put something down soon or you’ll have to miss a go … and can I remind you that I only have four letters left and I can see a place where I can make a really good word.’

‘Not so fast, Edith,’ Jack said, taking a sip from his drink.

Ellie could see, even from where she was standing, that the words on the Scrabble board were so filthy that it should have been placed immediately in a sealed container and buried at sea. All at once she felt very, very sober.

‘Edith,’ she said, ‘some of these words are terrible. Truly awful.’

‘Well, they’re not all mine. That one and that one, oh, and particularly that one are Jack’s.’ Edith tapped Jack on the arm playfully. ‘He has quite a wide vocabulary, hasn’t he?’

Ellie sat down, unsure whether she felt more perturbed by the sight of Jack or by Edith’s flirting. Before she could decide, Jack leaned forward and put all his letters down on the board one by one. Edith let out a little ‘Oh’ noise and went quite pale and Ellie looked at the word Jack had made and was sure she had turned scarlet.

Jack grinned. ‘There you go, Edith, an eight-letter word on a triple-word score. That’s a hundred and twenty, plus an extra fifty points for using up all my letters.’ Jack reached for the score-pad. ‘So, let’s see … You got two hundred and one, minus the letters you still have … plus the one you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.’ He gave her arm a little shake and a ‘Q’ fell out on to the floor. ‘Which gives you a total of a hundred and eighty-five and I have three hundred and forty. Sorry, Edith, you’re stuffed.’ Jack put down the pad and pen, drained his drink and then got to his feet.

Ellie saw that Edith was sucking her teeth. She hoped she wouldn’t do that thing where she actually took them out to do it.

‘Well played, Jack,’ Edith said finally. ‘I bow to your superior skill.’

Jack gave her a half-bow back. ‘Right, then,’ he said, clapping his hands together, ‘time for bed,’ and he lifted
Ellie on to her feet and pulled her behind him out into the hall.

Ellie wanted to ask him what he was playing at, besides Scrabble, but he dragged her towards the stairs and pushed her up them ahead of him. He was humming to himself and then he started to sing, patting her on the bottom in time to the song: ‘Ellie, Ellie, show us your belly.’

Ellie stopped and turned. ‘Jack, how many of Edith’s gin and tonics have you had?’

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