22. Catriona
Twenty Two
Catriona
Iunbutton my jacket and scan down Chatham Street.
This midweek morning with its promise of warm sunshine is mocking my bad mood.
Then again, this is Ireland, and a warm morning doesn’t mean a warm day.
Rian and I are to meet a potential client, a mother-daughter duo who have finally saved enough money to open a store, selling custom jewellery that they make in the workshop at the back of the building.
Rian is coming to the meeting directly from home. Attending the office before the eleven o’clock meeting is obviously too strenuous for him.
I’m nervous about being alone with him. Admittedly, I’m not just nervous, I’m also angry.
He’s completely ignored me the last couple of days, and only speaks to me when absolutely necessary.
The things he did to me – made me do to him – and now he treats me like air?
I mean, I don’t want anything from my boss, but it still makes the pit of my stomach hurt.
And that makes me even more angry. It amplifies that whatever we’ve been doing can’t happen again.
I should be grateful that he’s ignoring me.
It can’t happen again.
My resolve does nothing to prevent the jolt in my chest as I spot him up the road.
Bathing in sunshine, he looks more like an angel descended from heaven than the devil he truly is.
With his messed-up hair and fitted suit that clings to his tall body, Rian is so swoon-worthy it should be against the law.
Despite the client meeting, he’s not wearing a tie, and his white shirt is open at the neck, showing off a little skin.
“Ice Queen Taylor,” he says lazily as he reaches me, the usual annoying, sarcastic grin on his face. “You’re early. No surprise there.”
I respond the way I always do, by straightening my back, lifting my chin, and looking down my nose at him.
“And you’re just on time. Quite a surprise there!”
He chuckles lightly, a sound that washes over me like a warm summer breeze as he motions for us to head into the shop. Damn him and the way he makes me feel!
Rian flirts openly with mother and daughter during our meeting, but in a friendly way that doesn’t come across as sleazy or pushy. Not for the first time, I find myself admiring his way with people, be it women or men, and I know without doubt that they will become KSS clients.
“I’m not into wearing jewellery myself, but if I were to develop such a taste, I’m sure you’d give me a good price?” he jokes as we take our leave.
“You can be sure both to get a good price and jewellery that is custom made for your particular needs,” the mother replies and winks.
Out on the street, I’m ready to head back to the office, but Rian stalls.
He shrugs out of his jacket. The shirt stretches over his shoulders.
Long fingers pops open another shirt button, showing more smooth skin.
I lick my lips. Rian clears his throat and my gaze snaps up to his.
He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.
My cheeks heat at being caught ogling his sinfully hot body.
“Are you hungry?” he asks suggestively.
“Uh, yes. It’s almost lunchtime.” I ignore the innuendo of his comment.
“There’s a nice bistro around the corner.”
Oh, no. No way. What I need is distance from Rian, not voluntarily placing myself closer to him.
“I really should head back to the office. I have to get started on the quote.”
“Miss Taylor, live a little. A lunch away from your desk won’t kill you,” he taunts with the usual challenge in his eyes I’m never able to back away from.
I open my mouth to argue, but he steps closer.
That woodsy cologne that I’ve become intimately familiar with weakens my resolve.
It must be some kind of magic potion, as when his hand presses against my back, I willingly let him guide me down the street past Peter’s Pub instead of back to the office.
“If you feel too bad about missing out on precious office time, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that it’s your bastard boss who’s paying for lunch.”
“I can pay for my own lunch,” I protest at the same time as I ponder how much money I have in my bank account. I doubt Rian goes to cheap places.
He cuts me off. “I intend to talk work the whole time and can’t expect you to pay for a business lunch, can I?” I suck in a breath as he tugs me closer. His voice drops a couple of octaves. “I will have to pay you one way or another.”
There’s a pull in my stomach, and my mouth is dry. “I’d prefer hard cash.”
“Stop lying, Miss Taylor.” His low rumbling laughter makes it hard to concentrate on anything but the sensations of my body so close to his and his warm hand on my back. Any thoughts of staying away from Rian fade as my heartbeat increases.