Hunter Moon Page 8

  Pushing open her office door, she threw a ‘Sure, sure,’ over her shoulder, stopping dead in her tracks at the piles of mail on her desk.

  “Oh, that’s a nice welcome back.” Seb’s voice tickled her nerves as he stood close behind her, his heat sinking into her back.

  Taking her time moving away from the lovely warmth of him, she latched the office door open, turning. “Yup. How have you found the last few weeks?” The polite conversation was so at odds with all the things she wanted to ask him.

  Leaning back against the sash window in her office, he crossed his arms over his chest, “Truth? Jason’s kept me too busy to notice.” Waiting a beat, he flashed her a grin. “But I’m glad you’re back, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Arching a brow at him, she gave him a solemn nod. “I’ll bet. Need help with the workload, do ya?” Her slight smirk ruined the effect.

  “Yeah sure, of course that’s why I’m glad your back.”

  Rifling through the mail on her desk, she let the remark slide as she made a pile of junk mail for the shredder. She’d hoped he’d be pleased to see her. She’d also hoped that maybe he’d thought better of this thing between them, and would save her from her having to call it to a halt. Which was a pain in the ass in itself, as she was fairly sure that her willpower was not going to be her strong point when it came to a tall, brown-eyed historian who reminded her of the sea and tasted like fine whisky.

  Maybe if she got it out of the way, quick… But as she looked up, he’d already started to head for the door.

  “If you’re going to be busy for half hour, I’ll clear my emails before we head down to the exhibition.”

  Closing her mouth, she tightened her fingers around the letters in her hand. She’d almost done it then, she’d been, like, so close. Of course you were. “Okay, I’ll give you a knock when I’m done.”

  Stopping at the door, he held her gaze, making her stomach do flips as she waited.

  “Jess,” he cleared his throat, “it really is good to see you.”

  Dropping the mail to her desk, she slid her hands in her pockets, raising her shoulders. “You too. Although I don’t think—”

  Holding his hands up, he backed away with a wink. “Your being glad to see me is enough. For now.”

  He murmured the final words like a promise as he turned away, and, sitting down at her desk, Jess knew that she was already in hot water. A few weeks away had only intensified the chemistry between them.

  ***

  As he altered the angle of a marble bust of Medusa, he watched her chat with one of the staff, pointing out changes she’d like made and checking if it could be done.

  The soft blue denim fit her like a second skin, curving beautifully across her thigh and up, over her perfect derriere. She’d left her blazer up in the office, and the black top brushed her hips. The plait hanging over her shoulder gave her the look of a student, and it was hard to believe that she was the 26 years that Jason had confirmed.

  He was biding his time until he could get her alone, taste her lips and prove to himself they couldn’t possibly be as soft as he remembered. She’d lived in his thoughts the whole time she’d been gone.

  He found it disturbing that she’d been able to slip into his mind and stay there after one night. Whether they worked together or not, he had to find out what this thing was between them.

  Moving on to the next display, he mentally acknowledged that getting the time and privacy at the moment would be a problem. Jason had kept his work and social calendar constantly full since he’d gotten back from Ireland. There’d been dinners and fundraisers, late nights with the exhibition; he’d even temporarily moved into Jason’s spare room as he just hadn’t had time to look for a flat, and living out of a hotel room had lost its shine—fast.

  Drawn out of his thoughts at the sound of her laughter, he watched her assuring her helper that she could manage as he had ‘enough to do.’ As she turned away consulting her iPad, she reassured her assistant that she was perfectly capable of going to the archive herself.

  Casting his eyes at all the bodies currently working on this exhibition, he figured the archive was most likely to be empty…

  Giving her a few minutes head start, he strolled slowly after her.

  Letting the door close softly behind him, he breathed in the comforting smells of musty paper and ancient text, as she bent over the table, the bright spotlight shining down on the page.

  “Hey.” His low whisper had her looking up, heat touching her high cheekbones. “I wondered when I was going to be able to steal five minutes with you.”

  Her brown eyes widened as he approached her, as she clearly searched for the right way to put him off. Her tongue dabbed her top lip as she readied herself to speak, but she was already too late.

  Catching her hips, he stepped against her, her breath leaving her in a rush as he pulled her to him, firmly.

  Her eyes darted up to his, and her hot breath rushed across his lips, as her hands fisted on his chest.

  “Seb, I…”

  Leaning down to the soft skin between her shoulder and her neck he breathed her in. Never had he enjoyed the smell of a woman so much. “You…?” Careful not to mark her, he scraped his jaw up the skin of her neck, loving the feel of the shiver moving through her as his whiskers rubbed her.

  The faintest sound left her lips as she tilted her head, exposing more of her alabaster skin.

  Heartened by her response, he slid his hands further, grasping the round cheeks of her ass, lifting her snugly to him, pressing his hard length against the soft, warm heat of her.

  Kneading the soft cheeks, he captured her moan with his lips, as he took her mouth, his hunger overwhelming. Blood pounded to his shaft, as she moved softly in his grasp. His reaction to her floored him.

  Sweeping through the recess of her lush mouth, the taste of her was bliss, her tongue matching his own need.

  Lifting her onto the desk, he pushed between her thighs, jerking her back where he needed her.

  Grasping her hips to keep her close, he ground into her. Her soft gasp matching his low groan.

  He feasted on her lips, her whispered moans urging him closer, making him lose track of time and place, as he stood between her spread legs.

  The faint sound of voices in the corridor had him cupping her jaw, taking one last sweet sip from her, before pulling his lips away.

  She rested her brow against his chest, her thighs still gripping his hips, as she breathed slowly, and the footsteps continued on by.

  Taking a few calming breaths himself, he looked down at the top of her head, her glossy hair reflecting under the light, as he rubbed his palms up and down her thighs. “Jess. I…uh, I didn’t mean for it to get so…to go so…you know?”

  Her muffled laughter reached him, as she took a final deep breath, raising her gaze to his. “I know. And I’m supposed to be explaining to you why this isn’t a good idea.”

  Her self-depreciating smile erased his tinge of guilt for pushing her. “And you’re doing a fine job of it… Now tell me again why what isn’t a good idea?”

  “Sebastian.” Pushing at his hips she wriggled from his embrace, hopping off the table. “You know why. We work together. Jason is a mutual friend. We work together, blah blah.” Pacing away from him, she waved her hand as she spoke, before stopping to glare pointedly at him with her hands on her hips. “You can’t tell me you think this,” she gestured between the two of them, “is a sensible idea?”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he shook his head, fingers of anger teasing at him. “Oh, screw sensible, Jess.” Pacing towards her, he scraped his hand through his hair. “Life is too short for sensible. You make me hot. And I mean hot.” Pulling her back against him so she could feel how aroused he was, he brought his face a dash away from hers. “You make me laugh, and I can’t seem to get you out of my mind. Why would I ignore that just to be sensible?”

  He flung the words at her, but his hands were gentle as th
ey rubbed over her lower back, softly coaxing her. “Now I admit, here may not be the best place to have this discussion.”

  “You can say that again.” Her inelegant snort chased the flash of anger away.

  And his voice softened as he spoke. “But you can’t ignore it, Jess.”

  As she released her pent up breath, he brushed his lips over hers.

  Groaning, she pushed him away. “This is where we got into trouble in the first place!” Holding her palm up as if to keep him at bay, she pointed at him with her other hand. “Maybe there is something going on between us, but it can’t be here—”

  “Agreed.” Butting in before she could offer any other delaying tactics, he opened his palms at her as she looked suspiciously at him. “I do—I agree. Not here. So have dinner with me?”

  As she rolled her eyes, he could feel her reserve breaking. “We’ve got the exhibition launch tomorrow night, and it’s going to be mental after that. So tonight?”

  He could see it in her eyes, she wanted to say yes, but she was clinging to that last little niggle of ‘sensible and logical.’

  “We could go straight from work—it’s not like we’re going to get out of here early anyway—we don’t even have to call it a date if that helps you to kid yourself.” He winked at her as he said it, watching the humor race across her face, before she threw her hands in the air.

  ***

  “Fine. Dinner.” Rolling her eyes, she breezed past him, switching off the spotlight that still glared down at the document as she went.

  Dammit. She’d let him work her over, she’d let herself be led along. Because despite all the reasons that this was a bad idea, there was something about him and her together.

  Falling into step beside her, he dropped his arm across her shoulders.

  She suppressed the urge to grin, knowing he was deliberately trying to bait her.

  Shrugging off his arm, she gave him what she hoped was her best pointed stare. “And you can cut that out too. What’s gotten into you?”

  Shaking his head, he rolled his shoulders. “Beats me. You must bring it out in me.”

  Opening her mouth to inform him he was responsible for his own moods, she snapped it shut when he said, “What do you fancy for dinner?”

  It felt like such a mundane question, a couple’s kind of question. Nerves, that had nothing to do with his proximity, tripped through her system. She liked him—she liked the way he looked, sure, there was nothing not to like. But she liked him, the way he made her feel; the way she felt like she’d known him forever. Being with him was so easy.

  But she wasn’t ready for mundane. For discussing dinner and setting alarms, doing the same thing. Everyday. Over and over again. Long forgotten nerves dropped through her.

  “Dinner.” Stopping dead in her tracks, she touched her forehead. “I totally forgot, I’m already out.” Turning away, she headed towards the stairs that would take her to her office. “I’ve just got to get some papers, I’ll be back down in a bit.”

  Striding away, she raced up the stairs, glad to find the offices empty.

  She shut her door and leaned back against it, taking a calming breath.

  Jess knew she was overreacting. She’d probably confused the hell out of him, bearing in mind she’d just been wrapped round him like a trailing vine.

  Embarrassment flooded her as heat filled her cheeks. Talk about sending mixed signals. Grabbing the pile of junk mail, she went into the main office, flipping the switch on the shredder.

  Staring out of the window, she idly pushed each letter through the grinding teeth, enjoying the noise as it stripped each piece.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to settle down, eventually, one day. Maybe.

  It just wasn’t on her agenda right now. She liked her own space, calling her own shots. And what about who she was? Did she really expect him to just take her magic in his stride?

  A little flirting was one thing, but she’d spent one day with him, and she’d missed him every day since.

  The heavy ball of nerves took up residence low in her stomach.

  She was no good to anybody hiding up here in the office, and even though he was safe for the moment, surrounded by the busy bustle of the museum, that wouldn’t protect him tonight.

  Jason was relying on her to keep him at work late, until he could get back, and now she’d just bloody said she had plans. Bugger it. Because she’d been afraid, and her first response had been to run.

  After watching the last envelope get drawn to its doom, she turned the shredder off, and rolled her shoulders. Straightening her stance, she replaced the lipstick that he’d kissed away and headed back down the exhibition. It was time to woman-up.

  As she reached the bottom of the steps the precise strains of Chopin drifted from the open doors.

  Sebastian was moving between each artifact, dimming and lifting the lighting. Shadows lay across the highly polished floor, cast by light on marble and pewter, glass and gold.

  The serenely calming energy that was supposed to fill a museum was coming to life around her. Despite there still be packing crates and empty pedestals here and there, a sense of time and stillness was slowly breathing to life.

  Leaning against the doorframe, she watched as he stood before each piece, waiting. He was taking in each position, moving between the displays. Every so often he’d stop, leaving a note on an empty stand—doubtlessly, he’d decided what should go there.

  He’d taken his jumper off, and rolled up the sleeves of the soft white and blue checked shirt. His jeans fit perfectly, the cotton pulled across his shoulder blades, his thick hair just brushing his collar.

  His easy grace was like a dance, his eye for detail was as good as her own, and with a sigh Jess approached him.

  She’d never been a coward, and now wasn’t a time to start.

  “Hey.” Her voice was hushed—the room demanded it. “Chopin?”

  Turning to her, there was no ready smile, just a curious expression as he studied her. “Yes. Music helps an exhibition; it stops the silence.”

  “It’s looking outstanding.” Sliding her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she held his gaze. “You have a wonderful eye.”

  “Thank you.” He tilted his head as he looked her. “What’s the matter, Jess?”

  “I cancelled my plans tonight. There’s still a lot to do here,” she gestured towards the back of the room, “but we could get Chinese delivered if you wanted to?”

  Chapter Seven

  Mouth-watering aromas of beef in black bean, egg fried rice and noodles wound up the stairs with her.

  She’d ripped into the bag of prawn crackers as soon as the delivery driver had been safely locked out, and she crunched her way through her second one as she entered the office.

  Jess had balanced the box of food precariously on one arm, finding Seb rummaging through what was loosely classed as their only kitchen cupboard, coming out with two odd-sized pub wine glasses.

  “How is it that you have wine in the fridge but not a plate in the place?”

  Laughing at him, she slid the box onto the table. “I think that says very positive things about us, to be fair.” She pinched another prawn cracker form the packet and pulled boxes and tubs from the box. “On the other hand, you won’t find enough plates in this whole place to dish up the amount of Chinese you ordered. There’s enough for ten people here!” Her voice rose as she continued unpacking, digging around for the chopsticks, and handing him a set.

  “I was hungry, and I didn’t know what you wanted.” Stuffing the chopsticks in his back pocket, he reached up onto the top shelf. “Here’s a bowl; it’s the best I can do.”

  Wrinkling her nose at the earthenware bowl she turned solemn eyes on him. “At least there’s wine.”

  Drawing a cold bottle of white from the fridge, he nodded, laughing. “Point taken.”

  Holding up their two glasses, she watched him pour, his large hand wrapped firmly around the bottle, and she just about st
opped herself from moving a step closer to him, wanting to soak up his warmth.

  The day had been lost in snap as they’d worked side by side. She’d never really worked with anyone else, where they made equal decisions; it was interesting how similar their methods were. “We got a lot done today.”

  Taking his wine, his fingers brushed hers, as he tilted his glass towards her. “We did. We work well together.”

  Tapping her glass to his, she sipped the cool liquid, enjoying the brief heat of his skin.

  “We do.” Sitting down in the office chair, she peeled off lids, letting the gorgeous smells fill the room. “Ohmygods, I’m starving.” Snapping her chopsticks apart she nabbed a piece of chicken, loving the spicy heat. “Nothing this bad should smell so good.”

  Loading food into his bowl, he sat down. “Same.” He leant back in his chair, half a chicken ball still held in his fingers. “The office won’t smell great tomorrow, though.”

  “True enough, but it’s worth it.”

  Making short work of the tiny portion in her truly small bowl, she dragged the noodles across the table towards her, twirling them around her chopsticks. “Can you cook?”

  Squinting his eyes at her with a grin, he swallowed his mouthful. “Why? You vetting skill-sets for my potential?”

  Snickering around the slippery chow mein, she grabbed a napkin, dabbing her lips. “Nah. Just asking. You see, you look like you should be able to cook.”

  Sipping his wine, he nodded towards her. “I do? What does that look like?”

  “You know, you look…healthy. You look like you run or cycle. You drank water all day today—no coffee. So you’re health conscious. You’ve got fruit on your desk…” She drifted to a stop at his look. “What?”

  “I didn’t realize you were paying such close attention.” Leaning forward, he topped up her wine, setting the bottle down so he could catch her plait, gently tugging her to him. “Anything else you noticed?” His lips were soft as they caught hers, teasing her bottom lip with his tongue before nipping it with his teeth.

  Grasping the arms of her office chair, he wheeled her to him, her jean-clad legs fitting between his.