Lovers In The Afternoon

‘Miss Grant?’

She frowned up at him. ‘Why do you keep calling me that?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s your name, isn’t it?’

‘Leonie Grant, yes,’ she nodded in exaggerated movements. ‘I—Hic. I—Hic. Oh no,’ she groaned her humiliation as her loud hiccups filled the room. She really was making a fool out of herself—more so than usual, if that were possible! She should never have got out of bed today, should have buried her head beneath the bedclothes and stayed there until fate decided to be kind to her again. If it ever did, she groaned as she hiccuped again.

‘Maybe the whisky was a bad idea,’ Adam said in amusement, going over to the bar to pour her a glass of water.

Leonie gave him a look that spoke volumes before swallowing the water, almost choking as a hiccup caught her mid-swallow, spitting water everywhere, including over one black leather shoe as Adam Faulkner’s leg swung in front of her as he once again sat on the edge of his desk. ‘Oh dear,’ she began to mop at the shoe with a tissue from her bag, becoming even more agitated when several pieces of the tissue stuck to the wet surface.

She closed her eyes, wishing the scene would evaporate, that she would find it had all been a bad dream. But when she opened her eyes again the black shoe dotted with delicate yellow tissue was still there, and the man wearing the shoe was beginning to chuckle. Leonie looked up at him dazedly, liking the warmth in his eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners as he laughed, a dimple appearing in one lean cheek, his teeth very white and even against his tanned skin.

Mrs Carlson entered the room after the briefest knock, breaking the moment of intimacy. ‘I’ve checked your appointment book, Mr Faulkner, and you’re free at twelve o’clock or three o’clock.’

‘Twelve o’clock, I think,’ he still smiled. ‘Then Miss Grant and I can go out to lunch afterwards.’

‘Oh but I——’

‘Book a table, would you? He cut across Leonie’s protest, smiling at his secretary, much to her obvious surprise. ‘My usual place. And you may as well leave for the evening now, Miss Grant and I are just going to dinner.’

‘Er—yes, Mr Faulkner.’ The older woman gave Leonie a curious look, seeming to give a mental shrug before leaving the room.

‘She’s wondering why you could possibly want to take me to dinner,’ Leonie sighed, wondering the same thing herself. But at least the suggestion had stopped her hiccups!

Adam stood up after dusting the tissue from his shoe. ‘It’s the least I can do after your ordeal in the lift.’

‘But that was my fault——’

‘Nonsense,’ he humoured.

Leonie blinked at the determination in his face. ‘Why should you want to take me out to dinner?’

‘Miss Grant——’

‘Will you stop calling me that!’

‘Would you prefer Leonie?’ he queried softly, locking his desk drawers and picking up his briefcase in preparation for leaving for the evening.

‘Yes,’ she snapped.

‘Then you must call me Adam,’ he invited huskily.

‘I’m well aware of your name,’ she bit out impatiently. The whisky may have gone to her head but she wasn’t that drunk! And she had no idea why this man should want to take her out to dinner, they——

‘Then please use it,’ he urged, as his hand on her elbow brought her to her feet.

Leonie swayed slightly, falling against him, flinching away from the hard warmth of his body. ‘Please, I don’t want to go out to dinner,’ she protested as he propelled her from the room at his side, the top floor of the building strangely in silence, Mrs Carlson having followed his instruction and left for the evening, the other employees having left some time ago.

Adam didn’t release her arm. ‘When did you last eat?’ he asked pointedly as she swayed again.

‘I had some toast for breakfast this morning. I need to diet,’ she defended heatedly as the grey eyes looked her over disapprovingly.

‘You’re too thin,’ he stated bluntly.

‘I’m a size ten,’ she told him proudly.

‘Definitely too thin,’ he repeated arrogantly. ‘I happen to be one of those men who prefers his woman to have some meat on her bones.’

His woman? His woman! Just who did he think he was? ‘I happen to like being thin,’ she told him irritably.

He arched dark brows. ‘Do you also like starving to death?’ he drawled.

It was her weakness for good food that had pushed her up to a size fourteen in the past, and she had no intention of giving in to that weakness again, not when it had taken so much effort to lose the excess weight. ‘I’ll survive,’ she muttered.

‘Will you be okay in the lift now that it’s working properly?’ Adam asked as the lift doors opened to them invitingly.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she dismissed his concern. ‘Although the way today is going so far it could break down on us again,’ she said ruefully.

Adam smiled down at her as they were confined in the lift together. ‘I can’t think of anyone I would rather be stuck in the lift with,’ he said throatily.

Leonie gave him a sharp look, expecting sarcasm but finding only warm invitation in the dark grey eyes. He was flirting with her, actually flirting with her!

‘Pity,’ he drawled as they arrived safely on the ground floor, stepping into the carpeted reception area, nodding to the man on night security, guiding Leonie to the parking area, opening the passenger door of the sporty BMW for her, the top to the pale blue car back in the heat of the day. He took her briefcase from her and threw it in the back with his own before climbing in next to her, starting the engine with a roar. ‘Would you like the top up or down?’ he enquired politely.

She touched her hair ruefully. ‘I think it’s beyond redemption, so down, please.’

Adam glanced at her as he drove the car towards the exit. ‘You have beautiful hair.’

Leonie tensed at the unexpected compliment, her breath held in her throat.

‘The style suits you,’ he added softly.

The tension left her in a relieved sigh. ‘Thank you.’

Conversation was virtually impossible as they drove to the restaurant, although the fresh air did clear Leonie’s head somewhat, giving her time to wonder what she was doing on her way to dinner with this man. She should have been more assertive in her refusal, shouldn’t have allowed herself to be manoeuvred in this way. And yet she knew she was curious, couldn’t think what possible reason Adam had for wanting to take her out to dinner. And his tolerance with the mishaps that just seemed to happen to her was too good to last!

She had been to the restaurant before that he took her to, but it had been a year ago, and hopefully no one would remember that she was the woman who had tripped on her way back from powdering her nose and pushed some poor unfortunate diner’s face into his dinner!

‘Good evening, Mr Faulkner,’ the maitre d’ greeted warmly, his eyes widening warily as he saw his companion. ‘Madam,’ he greeted stiffly.

He remembered her! It had been over a year ago now, and this man still remembered her. He probably didn’t have many people who came here and assaulted another diner for no reason!

‘Do we have to eat here?’ she demanded of Adam in desperation as they followed the other man to their table.

His brows rose. ‘You don’t like the restaurant? Or perhaps the French cuisine isn’t to your liking?’

‘I love it,’ she sighed. I just don’t feel—comfortable here, that’s all,’ she mumbled.

‘Thanks, Henri,’ Adam dismissed the other man, pulling out her chair for her himself. ‘Just relax, Leonie.’ His hands were warm on her shoulders as he leant forward to speak softly in her ear, his breath gently ruffling her hair.

She felt strangely bereft when he removed his hands and went to sit opposite her, their table in a quietly intimate part of the restaurant. As the waiter poured the wine that had been waiting for them, she could feel the tingling of danger along her spine, wary of this romantic setting, wary of this game Adam was playing with her.

‘Adam——’

‘Try the wine,’ he urged huskily.

‘When are we going to discuss the work on your office suite?’ she asked determinedly.

‘Tomorrow. Before lunch.’

‘About lunch——’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll like the restaurant I’ve chosen for us,’ he sipped his own wine. ‘Please try it,’ he encouraged throatily.

She sighed her impatience, ignoring the glass of wine. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘This?’ he prompted softly.

She shrugged. ‘The charm, the restaurant, dinner, the wine. Why, Adam? And don’t say to atone for the lift breaking down with me in it because I won’t believe you.’

‘You’re right,’ he nodded, perfectly relaxed as he leant back in his chair, dismissing the waiter as he arrived to take their order. ‘I had this table booked for us tonight before I even realised you were stuck in the lift.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t you usually go out for business meals with your prospective clients?’

‘Of course,’ she sighed. ‘But it’s usually lunch, and so far we haven’t discussed any business.’

‘We will,’ he promised. ‘Tomorrow.’

‘Why not now?’

He shrugged at the determination in her face. ‘Maybe after we’ve eaten,’ he compromised.

This time he didn’t wave the waiter away when he came to take their order, and with the arrival of their first and consequent courses there wasn’t a lot of time for conversation. And by the time they got to the coffee stage of their meal Leonie had to admit that she didn’t give a damn if they ever discussed business, feeling numb from the head down, the wine one of her favourites, her glass constantly refilled as soon as she had taken a few sips, the food as delicious as she remembered, forgetting her diet for this one night.

‘You look like a well-fed cat,’ Adam eyed her appreciatively.

‘I feel like a very relaxed one, if you know what I mean,’ she smiled happily.

He grinned. ‘I know exactly what you mean.’

He was so handsome, so ruggedly good looking, that he made her senses spin. Or was that the wine? No, she was sure it was him. And he had been so patient with her when she knocked a glass of wine all over the table, had dismissed the anxious waiter to mop up the surplus liquid himself, had got down on the floor and helped her pick up the contents of her handbag when she accidentally opened it up the wrong way and it all fell out, had even chuckled a little when she knocked the waiter’s arm and ended up with a potato in her lap. Yes, he had been very charming.

‘Shall we go?’ he suggested throatily as she smiled dreamily at him.

‘Why not?’ She stood up, narrowly avoiding another table as she turned too suddenly. ‘I never go back to the same place twice if I can avoid it,’ she assured him happily.

‘It must be difficult finding new restaurants,’ he smiled, a smile that oozed sensuality.

‘I rarely eat out,’ she dismissed. ‘It’s safer that way, for other diners, I mean,’ she explained as they went outside, surprised to see it was already dark, a glance at her watch telling her it was almost ten o’clock. They had been in the restaurant hours!

His mouth quirked. ‘I noticed you have a tendency to—well, to——’

‘Drop things, knock things, bump into things,’ she finished obligingly. ‘My husband found it very irritating,’ she added challengingly.

‘Really?’ Adam sounded non-committal.

‘Yes. He—Where are we going?’ she frowned as she realised they were in a part of London she didn’t know very well, the exclusive residential area.

‘My apartment.’

Leonie blinked as they entered the underground car-park. ‘You live here?’ she frowned.

‘Since my separation,’ he nodded, coming round to open her door for her.

Things were happening too fast, much too fast she realised as they entered the spacious apartment, barely having time to notice its elegant comfort before Adam swept her into his arms, his eyes glittering darkly with desire.

‘I’ve wanted to do this ever since the lift doors opened and I saw you grovelling about on the floor,’ he announced raggedly before his mouth claimed hers.

She wanted to ask him what he found so romantic about a woman making a fool of herself, but the magic of his kiss put all other thoughts from her mind, drawing her into him with the sensuous movement of his mouth, his arms beneath the jacket of her suit, his hands warm through the thin material of her blouse and camisole, his thighs hardening against her as his hands moved down to cup her buttocks and pull her into him.

The effects of the brandy and wine miraculously disappeared to be replaced by something equally as heady, sexual pleasure. She had heard all the old clichés about women who were no longer married, had scorned the idea of falling into that sexual trap herself knowing how little pleasure she had found in her marriage bed, and yet she knew that she wanted Adam. And he wanted her, there could be no doubting that.

Her lips parted beneath the assault of his tongue, knowing it was merely a facsimile of the lovemaking they really wanted, Leonie feeling filled and possessed by that moist warmth, drawing him deeper into her as she returned the attack.

Adam’s breathing was ragged as he pulled away to kiss her throat, peeling the jacket expertly from her shoulders, throwing it to one side, beginning to release the buttons to her blouse, his hands sure in their movements, although they trembled slightly with anticipation.

It was this slight crack in his supreme self-confidence that encouraged Leonie to do some undressing of her own, his own jacket joining hers on the floor, his waistcoat quickly following, her fingers hesitating at the buttons of his shirt.

‘Please,’ he encouraged achingly.

Her own hands shook as she revealed the muscled smoothness of his chest, the dark hair there silvered with grey. He was beautiful without the trappings of the successful businessman, wearing only tailored trousers now, his arousal barely contained.

‘Leonie!’ His mouth captured hers again as she caressed his bared chest, moving fiercely against her, pulling her into him as the tip of her tongue tentatively caressed his lips.

They left a trail of clothes to the bedroom, both naked by the time they lay down together on the bed still kissing, Adam’s hands at her breasts making her gasp with pleasure, the nipples hardening and aching, asking for the tug of his mouth. They didn’t have to wait long.

Leonie didn’t stop to question her complete lack of inhibitions, inhibitions that had made her marriage such an agony, only knowing that this man, with his gentle caresses, held the key to her sensuality in his hands.

Adam kissed every inch of her body, found pleasure in the secret places no other man had ever known, making her tremble uncontrollably as his tongue rasped the length of her spine to her nape, quivers of excitement making her arch back into him as he homed in on the sensitive flesh there.

She lost all lucidity as Adam’s caresses brought her again and again to the edge of a fulfilment she had never known, as he always pulled her back from the edge before she could reach the pinnacle she craved, her movements beneath him becoming more and more desperate as he refused to let her escape him even for a second.

‘Please, Adam. Please!’ Her eyes were wild as she looked up at him.

‘You take me,’ he encouraged raggedly, his eyes black with desire.

‘What——?’ But she understood what he meant even as he pulled her above him, going to him eagerly, gasping as he lowered her on to him, filling her in every way possible before bringing her mouth down to his.

It was so right that it should be this way, that he should allow her the freedom to be the one to choose their pleasure, a pleasure she had never known during her marriage.

She was heady with delight, kissing the dampness of his salt-tasting shoulders and throat, quivering her own satisfaction as he groaned at the invasion of her tongue, feeling his movements quicken beneath her as he could hold back no longer, the hardness of him stroking her own desire until she felt the explosion begin in the depths of her being, beginning to shake as the warm aching pleasure ripped through her whole body in a climactic holocaust.

‘My beautiful Leonie,’ Adam gasped as he reached the summit of his own pleasure, exploding in a warmth of warm moistness. ‘I knew it could be this way between us!’

And it hadn’t stopped there, their strength and desire returning within minutes, their second lovemaking even more intense than the first, the pleasure seeming never-ending.

Leonie looked again at the face of the man who slept beside her, wondering what on earth she had done. Oh God, what had she done!

He stirred slightly as she moved from beneath the curve of his arm, her movements stilling until she realised he was still sleeping. She blushed as she found her clothes scattered in a disorganised path from the bedroom to the lounge; she had never been so carried away by passion before. She hastily began to dress.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

She balked only slightly in the movement of pulling the camisole over her head. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ she said sourly; at least he had had the decency to put on a brown towelling robe before following her from the bedroom!

‘Isn’t it usual to spend the whole night in circumstances like these?’ he drawled, his dark hair still tousled, his jaw in need of a shave now. ‘I didn’t expect you to go sneaking off while I was asleep!’

‘I wasn’t sneaking off,’ she told him resentfully. ‘And there’s nothing usual about these circumstances!’ She tucked her blouse into the waistband of her skirt.

‘I want you to stay the night.’

She shot him an angry glare, resentful that he could look so at ease, his hands thrust casually into the pockets of his robe, his stance relaxed. ‘Why?’

His mouth twisted. ‘I’m sure I’ve just shown you two very good reasons why.’

‘Sex!’

‘And what’s wrong with that?’ He arched dark brows.

‘Nothing, you know I enjoyed it,’ she snapped, knowing it would be useless to deny it, brushing her hair with angry movements, whether at Adam or herself she wasn’t sure.

‘So stay,’ he encouraged softly.

‘I can’t, Adam,’ she sighed impatiently. ‘I don’t know what game you’ve been playing with me this evening——’

‘A game you were quite happy to go along with,’ he reminded gently.

She shook her head in self-condemnation. ‘It seemed the easy way out at the time, so much easier for me to be Leonie Grant and you to be Adam Faulkner,’ she said shakily.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Why not, that’s who we are.’

‘Because until our divorce becomes final I’m still officially Leonie Faulkner, your wife, and you’re my husband!’

‘And now I’m your lover,’ he gave a slow smile of satisfaction. ‘It was your idea, Leonie, you’re the one that said we shouldn’t have married each other but just have been lovers. And after tonight that’s exactly what we’re going to be!’

CHAPTER TWO

SHE vividly remembered shouting those words at Adam before she had walked out on him and their marriage eight months ago, remembered everything about her disaster of a marriage to this man. And she didn’t intend becoming involved with him again in any way.

She was fully dressed now, straightening the collar of her jacket. ‘Tonight was a mistake——’

‘I have another name for it,’ Adam drawled.

Her eyes flashed her resentment. ‘I’m well aware of the fact that you planned what happened——’

‘Don’t pretend you didn’t want it, too,’ he warned her softly.

She blushed at the truth of that; from the moment she had seen him seated across the desk from her at the Thompson building her senses had become alive with wanting him. And the fact that he had acted as if it were the first time they had ever met had added to the excitement. But she had a feeling, knowing Adam as she did, a much less charming and relaxed Adam, that he had realised exactly what effect his behaviour was having on her, that it had been effected to get the response from her she had refused to give him during their marriage.

‘It was certainly better than anything we ever shared during our marriage,’ she snapped waspishly, waiting for the angry explosion she had come to expect from him when they discussed the failure of the physical side of their marriage.

‘I agree.’ Once again he disconcerted her; he had been doing it all evening, from the time she had discovered that her estranged husband was the new President of Thompson Electronics, during dinner when he had had such patience with her ‘accidents’, to the infinite care and gentleness he had shown her during their lovemaking. ‘You were right,’ he continued lightly. ‘We’re much better as lovers than as husband and wife.’

‘We are not lovers!’ She looked around desperately for her handbag so that she might get out of here. ‘I’ve left my handbag in the restaurant,’ she finally groaned in realisation. ‘And that damned man——’

‘Henri,’ Adam put in softly, his mouth quirked with amusement.

‘He already thinks I’m some sort of escapee from a lunatic asylum.’ She hadn’t missed his covert glances in her direction during the evening. ‘I just can’t go back there,’ she shuddered.

‘You don’t have to——’

‘And I don’t need any of your high-handed interference either,’ she cut in rudely. ‘Why should one more visit to that place bother me!’ she told herself defiantly.

‘Because it does,’ Adam soothed. ‘And there’s no need to torture yourself with the thought of having to do it; your handbag is in my car.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Very,’ he replied with satisfaction. ‘You were so eager to get up here that you left it next to your seat.’

‘I was not eager to get up here,’ she defended indignantly.

‘Maybe I should rephrase that,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I was so eager to get you up here that I didn’t give you chance to think of such mundane things as a handbag. Better?’ he quirked dark brows in amusement.

It was that amusement that confused her; there had been little to laugh about during their marriage, Adam always so grim. But no one knew the deviousness of his mind as well as she did, and she wasn’t fooled by this charm for a moment.

‘What are you up to, Adam?’ she demanded impatiently. ‘Why are you doing this?’

He strolled across the room to her side, his movements gracefully masculine, as they always were. ‘I want a lover, Leonie,’ he told her softly, only inches away from her as he stood with his hands thrust into the pockets of his robe. ‘I want you.’

She shook her head. ‘You had me for a year, and it was a disaster,’ she recalled bitterly.

Adam nodded in acknowledgment of that fact. ‘Nevertheless, I want you.’

‘You’ve only just got rid of me!’ she reminded desperately.

‘Of the marriage, not you, Leonie.’

‘It’s the same thing!’

‘No,’ he smiled gently. ‘We both found the marriage stifling, the sort of relationship I’m suggesting——’

‘With me as your mistress!’ she scorned.

‘Lover,’ he insisted. ‘We would be lovers.’

‘No!’

‘Why not?’ his eyes had narrowed, although he remained outwardly relaxed.

‘I don’t want a lover!’

His mouth quirked. ‘You just proved, very effectively, that you do.’

Colour heightened her cheeks. ‘That was sex——’

‘The best sex we ever had, admit it,’ he encouraged.

She drew in a ragged breath. ‘Yes.’ ‘And as I said before, what’s wrong with that?’

She sighed her exasperation. ‘You just don’t understand——’

‘I understand perfectly,’ he cut in soothingly. ‘This has all come as a bit of a shock to you——’

‘That has to be the understatement of the decade!’

Adam chuckled, at once looking younger. ‘Poor Leonie,’ he smiled. ‘What’s shocking you the most, the fact that we found such pleasure in bed together for the first time, or the fact that I want it to continue?’