Chapter 10 #2
Once again, my eyes drifted to the corner where my knapsack sat, my coat draped casually over it. Sully’s words, his low, murmured please still echoed in my head.
“Pack a bag and stay the night. Stay awhile. I want as much time with you as possible, mo fhiadh beag. Please.”
I couldn’t resist him. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to.
So I’d packed a bag with two changes of clothes and some toiletries.
Somehow I knew Sully’s place would have the essentials.
I did, however, plan on slipping out on my lunch break and buying something special.
Something for his eyes only. He’d like that.
I’d tease him for a while, the same way he’d teased me this morning.
He’d sent me a series of pictures. Him in underwear, then one in dress pants, his shirt unbuttoned.
With his tie and jacket on. Adding a heavy-looking silver watch.
Cuff links. Wearing what I was certain was a cashmere overcoat.
Pulling on gloves. A striptease in reverse, the final picture of him before he left his flat, dressed to impress, sexy as hell.
The last picture had a message.
All for you, mo fhiadh beag. All for you.
Tonight, you can have me any way you want me.
Yours (and I am).
– Sully
I wondered how many longing glances were thrown his way as he strolled to the office.
Except, he wouldn’t stroll. He would stride with his shoulders back, his head held high, emanating power and sex appeal, making him all the more appealing.
Confident in his own skin, not caring for the glances.
I knew women would stare at him. Maybe try to engage him in conversation while they waited for morning coffee at the local shop. Slip him their number.
Which he would refuse.
I knew, without a doubt, he would be polite, cordial, and completely distant. He had said on more than one occasion he was a one-woman man. Bonnie had told me he was extremely loyal. I could say with complete confidence I was that woman.
And how I got to be so lucky, I had no idea.
I sighed as I turned in my chair, looking out the window. The day was bleak, something I understood happened a lot here during the winter. But it did in Canada as well. And our winters were far longer-lasting.
A knock at my door brought me out of my musings, and I smiled at one of the women from HR.
“Hello, Elaine.”
She entered, carrying a thick folder.
“Oh dear. More problems?”
She shook her head. “No, actually, these are some other documents I thought you should go over and change to bring us up-to-date.”
I took the folder with a smile. So many of the staff were keen to jump into the twenty-first century, while others, the older male ones, mostly, wanted things to stay the same.
They couldn’t understand why things had to change.
And I had to admit, this office ran very well, but there was definitely room for improvement.
“Mr. Whitby asked me to speak to you.”
“Oh?”
“He is very pleased with how things are going. You are an excellent teacher, and you write the documents so we can all understand them very well.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you enjoyed your time here, Autumn?”
“Very much.”
She sat down. “A little bird told me as much. She indicated you may be thinking of relocating.”
I knew who that little bird was. Bonnie had been talking already. I smiled. “I have. But I need to go home and wrap up my life there, then come back and apply through the right channels.”
She nodded. “Another work visa would help, would it not?”
“It would.” I chose my words carefully. “I was thinking of applying for any jobs that become available here.”
She beamed at me, then leaned forward as if we were conspiring. “I know Audrey is thinking of retiring. We’ll need a new person, and she and I think you would be a great fit.”
My eyebrows shot up at her words. “What about Moira? She’s been here a long time.”
“She isn’t good at explaining or creating new documents the way you are. And her recordkeeping is stuck in the ’90s and will have to be brought up-to-date. She prefers payroll and benefits. You would be such an asset. Would you really consider living here?”
I swallowed the thick feeling in my throat, the impulse to jump up and scream yes. Instead, I nodded. “I have been thinking along those lines, to be honest. A fresh start. I have made some friends, and I love the city.”
She stood, smiling widely. “Then let’s take it one step at a time.
I’ll talk to Mr. Whitby, and I’ll mention you are thinking of returning permanently.
If, of course, you found a job.” Then she chuckled.
“We could always find a nice lad to marry ye. You’re a bonny lass, and I know we’d have no trouble!
” Laughing at her own humor, she left, leaving me stunned.
A week ago, I would have been pleased at her words but not considered them. Moving here hadn’t really entered my mind until Sully. But now, everything seemed to be pushing me in that direction.
And I knew when I told him, he would inform me I needed to let the wind take me—and he would be waiting for me when I got there.
I stood across the street, eyeing up Sully’s building. It was a nice-looking structure. Modern but not out of place with the area. It was about a fifteen-minute walk to the office in one direction, and I knew Sully’s walk was about ten minutes in the other.
Convenient for both of us.
I crossed the street, typing in the number he’d given me. The door clicked open as his voice came over the speaker. “Top floor.”
“Good thing I’m not a burglar,” I muttered.
“Cameras, love,” he called out as the door shut behind me.
Upstairs, he was waiting, his door open. He filled the frame, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. He was smiling, holding out his hand, eager for me to arrive.
He kissed me warmly, then pulled me into his flat. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
“Sorry. I was a little delayed.”
He kissed me again. “Worth the wait. Take off your coat. You’re staying, right?”
“For as long as you’ll have me.”
He threw my coat over a chair and dragged me into his arms. “Then you need a much larger suitcase.”
I wandered around as Sully finished dinner. “It smells great.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t make it, I’m afraid. Marks and Sparks handled it all. But it’s usually tasty.”
“Sounds good.”
“Look around, get acquainted with the place,” he invited.
His home was nice. Masculine with clean lines and simple furnishings.
Yet it was homey. A massive, inviting sofa faced a fireplace, with two deep wingbacks flanking it.
A TV hung over the simple, heavy-looking wooden mantel.
A thick rug felt soft under my feet. The walls were a deep ivory and the furnishings rich green and black.
Dark wood tables finished the area, as well as a few cushions and blankets that looked perfect for afternoon naps by the fire.
Bookshelves were on either side of the fireplace, filled with various genres.
Fiction, history, law, mystery, even nonfiction, all blended together, showing his varied tastes.
He had a small office, containing more shelves of books and a desk with a mammoth computer screen off to one side.
I spotted the bedroom down the hall and, unable to resist, took a peek inside.
He had a king-sized bed with a padded leather head- and foot-board and matching siderails.
The sheets looked soft, the comforter a cloud.
This room was done in browns and blues—very manly, yet still pleasing to the eye.
His dresser was tall, taller than me, and I spied a walk-in closet.
The room had a chair in the corner, a throw over the back, and a table with a lamp and a stack of books, a pair of glasses perched on top.
The room smelled like him. Warm. Inviting.
The bathroom contained a walk-in shower and a stand-alone tub. Double sinks. All in muted colors with glass and brushed chrome. Tasteful and understated elegance surrounded me.
I headed back to the kitchen, where gleaming cupboards and modern appliances were arranged in a well-thought-out design. The stone counters were dark, playing off the lighter cupboards and walls. The floor was warm under my feet.
“Lovely place,” I said, sliding onto a barstool.
He grinned. “I like it.”
“Did you have it done?”
He shook his head as he plated dinner. “Not completely. Roisin helped a bit, but I bought pieces I liked and had help getting it finished to my own taste. I’m not much for frilly things, but I like comfort.”
“It shows.”
He lifted the plates. “We can eat at the table.”
“Can I help?”
“Bring the wine.”
He slid a plate in front of me after I sat down. The table was small but nice. Round, with enough room for four, although for two, it was perfect. I eyed the flowers, and he kissed my head before sitting beside me. “Those are for you, my lady.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, feeling a bit overwhelmed. I couldn’t recall the last time someone had gotten me flowers. I touched a petal on one of the big lilies. “So lovely.”
He touched my face. “As are you.”
We gazed at each other for a moment, the air around us filled with emotion.
Then he smiled. “Eat, Autumn.”
I glanced at the stuffed chicken and potatoes, the glazed carrots, and smiled. “Looks great.”
“Only the best for my woman.”
I laughed and picked up my wine. “Your woman appreciates it.”
He tapped his glass to mine. “Good.”
After dinner, we tidied up. He was quick and methodical, putting the leftovers in containers and into the fridge, stacking the dishwasher, and making a pot of tea. He held up a package of biscuits. “Dessert,” he proclaimed.
We carried a tray into the living area, then sat on his gigantic sofa. I laughed as I curled into the corner, pulling my legs under me. “My feet don’t hit the floor.”
“That happens when you’re height-challenged,” he said with a wink.
“Not all of us are giants.”
“What are you? Five two?”