Page 22 of One Week With You
“It’s fine. It was another mistake. Message received.”
“What the fuck? Message not received.”
“It’s my own fault. I should’ve listened to you the first time.”
“Talia!”
She flew inside and I ran my hands down the side of my face, startled by the scent of her still on me. I should’ve been sucking on her taste right then, should’ve watched her suck the taste of herself too as I forced my fingers into her mouth. Not this. Never this.
I kicked the leg of a nearby table. “FUCK!”
I gave myself a few minutes to get my act together, but it was hard when my suit was rumpled by her, and I could still feel the print of her mouth against mine. Eventually I had to button my suit jacket and hope for the best.
When I reached the entrance to the party, Talia appeared from the restrooms, fussing with her dress and hair even though she looked perfect.
Perfectly fucked.
“We need to talk,” I said.
Talia heaved a sigh. “I know but not now. Let’s go inside and play happy couple for the rest of the night. You have a deal to finalise.”
“I don’t give a shit about the party anymore. Or that fucking deal. It’s a lost cause.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I know it’s important to you. And I’m not going to be the one who drags you away in front of all your employees.”
“Talia.”
Fucking look at me.
“Can you do this or not, Rafe? I know I can.”
My jaw clenched. She wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. We’ll talk later.” I reached for her hip but she pulled away.
“No, don’t touch me please.”
I dropped my hand because of course I did but –
“How am I going to sell this if you won’t let me touch you?” I was pushing it, but I couldn’t help myself. Being told I couldn’t touch this woman after I’d touched her so intimately was something my brain and body couldn’t reconcile. I wasn’t sure how the hell I managed to do it all those years before.
But maybe I hadn’t managed at all.
Maybe I’d been lying to myself.
Talia looked at me, absolutely nothing in the smooth slope of her expression. “You’ve managed to sell it pretty well without my even being here, so I think we’ll do just fine.”
She marched back inside and headed for our table, smiling at Alan as she struck up a conversation with his wife. I shoved my hands into my pockets, rooted to the floor while I dialled back the compulsion to follow her. What the hell was I going to do now?
* * *
Alan Fraiser was more than merry a couple of hours later; his joy the excuse I needed to take Talia home. We drove in a silence so thick it felt like a suffocating second skin, and when I pulled up outside her building, she had the seatbelt released before I’d switched off the ignition.
“Thanks for the lift,” she said, seizing her clutch from the footwell.
“Sure. Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
She nodded. “Alan seemed to enjoy himself. I think he’ll be selling. Mission accomplished.”
Doubtful. “We’ll see.”
