‘But I don’t want him to think I’m a dominatrix.’ She was horrified by the image. Even more so, because she had actually fantasised him being handcuffed to her bed! But that was only a mad dream borne out of frustration, she assured herself. She’d never really do it. What she dearly, truly wanted was utterly breath-taking mutual desire.
‘Challenges his manhood,’ Josh murmured knowingly. ‘He’ll be thinking about how much he’d like to dominate you.’
She frowned at him. ‘Do you realise you’ve made yourself out to be my toy-boy?’
He grinned. ‘So what? You think Buffy is anything more than a toy-girl to him? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Makes you more of a match for him.’
She shook her head. ‘I doubt he’ll think that.’
‘Give him time. He might not realise it yet but that guy is possessive of you, Lucy, and right now he’s as jealous as hell of me. Why do you think he seated you next to him? To compete for your attention, that’s why.’
Could it be so? Lucy found it difficult to believe, yet Josh was no fool in his perceptions of people. And the miserable truth was, James had never sought her company on a personal basis before. Outside of work, he’d been perfectly content with the Buffys of this world.
Until now.
All the same, company in public and company in private were still two different things. Josh could very well be right in that he’d hit some competitive nerve in James. However, that didn’t mean she was actually desirable to him, not in the sense she craved. This was probably dog in the manger stuff. He didn’t want her himself but he didn’t like the idea of someone else having her.
Besides, what was the point in planting false images of her in his mind? What would it win her in the end? She wanted to be wanted for herself, not fancied as some kind of sexual contestant.
‘I’m me and I’m not going to pretend to be anything else,’ she stated emphatically.
‘Neither you should,’ Josh agreed. ‘Being you is perfect.’
‘Perfect for what?’ she demanded suspiciously.
‘Titillating him to death.’ He gave her a smugly satisfied look. ‘You did want him to burn, Lucy love. If nothing else, we have achieved that objective.’
True, she told herself.
Let him burn.
He’d made her burn all day.
Vengeance was sweet.
She could hand in her notice with the sense she’d had the last word with James Hancock. He’d be left thinking he’d missed out on something. And he had. She was worth more than the label of secretary.
CHAPTER FOUR
JAMES was not enjoying himself.
He couldn’t fault the food served. It was gourmet standard. Yet he found himself irritated by the bits of decorative garnishes that were so artistically arranged on each plate. Pretentious garbage. He had a perverse desire for something plain and solid, like sausages and mash. But he made all the right noises, joining in the general chorus of approval.
Adding to his irritation was Buffy’s vapid conversation. She was just like the gourmet food—pretty to look at, no substance. And her gaze kept sliding to Josh Rogan, who was clearly enjoying himself immensely, the life of the party, happily making everyone else happy, and dominating Lucy’s attention.
Not that she hung on his every word. Surprisingly enough, she seemed to be her usual contained self, playing the straight woman to her lover’s sparkle. Except on the dance-floor. She certainly wasn’t straight there. She melted into the music, revealing a sensual suppleness that obviously reflected what she was like in bed, since she had a guy like Josh Rogan coming back for more and more whenever she wanted him.
She was a tantalising mix, and most irritating of all was her prickly coolness to him. Each time he’d tried to engage her in conversation, she gave a few polite replies—the absolute minimum without being rude—then turned her attention to whatever else was being said around the table.
Paying him back for sitting her next to him, he’d concluded, her resentment at being reminded of work on her night off made very plain. It hadn’t exactly been tactful of him to call her his punctilious secretary in front of everyone. He suspected it had put her off-side with him in more ways than one.
Even when he’d casually touched her she’d removed the contact as though he were a poisonous snake, a fierce rejection coming at him in tumultuous waves. Plus the accompanying look at Buffy, as if to say, ‘There’s your touchable doll. Paw her, not me, thank you.’
The more he thought about it, the more he decided Lucy Worthington was a control junkie. She remained on top of every situation at work. She had Josh Rogan on a string which she pulled in whenever it suited her. And she was very tight with money. In fact, the only time he’d ever seen her part with unnecessary dollars was when he’d hassled her into buying tickets in tonight’s raffle—probably the first and only raffle tickets she’d ever bought.
‘For the children, not the car,’ she’d said, scorning his sales patter.
No doubt Lucy considered an Alpha Spider sports car a frivolous impracticality. Since she couldn’t control the weather, a convertible would never be her pick for day-to-day travelling. If she chose to acquire a car at all, it would be a reliable hard-top with low fuel consumption.
James was sinking into a morose mood when one of the band members came to him, asking to have a private word. He quickly excused himself from the table, grateful to seize any diversion from the problem he had with Lucy. Besides, not involving her in any work-related issue demonstrated he was true to his word about leaving her free to enjoy herself tonight. Maybe she wouldn’t be quite so prickly with him when he came back.
Lucy watched him go and hoped he’d never come back. He stirred so much tension in her, it was impossible to relax and enjoy herself. She took a long deep breath, trying to loosen up as she slowly released it, only to be then landed with Buffy Tanner who slid onto the chair James had vacated, determined on having a woman-to-woman chat.
‘I love your boyfriend,’ she purred into Lucy’s ear. ‘Where did you find such a gorgeous hunk?’
‘Oh, I’ve known Josh for years,’ she answered, not wanting to get specific.
‘Why haven’t you married him then?’
Lucy allowed herself a dry smile. ‘That wouldn’t suit either of us.’
Satisfaction oozed from Buffy. ‘You mean he likes to stay free-wheeling.’