The End of Faking It. Natalie Anderson

wanted to answer her summons. So, so badly.

      ‘Hello?’

      She was holding the phone out to him and he’d been too busy gawping to notice. He grabbed it and started talking.

      ‘Hi, Mason, sorry to bother you so late.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s great you’re onto it so quickly. I can’t thank you enough.’

      ‘So Penny’s your temp PA?’ Carter kept looking at her, still struggling to believe that conservative, eighty-year-old Mason had ever hired such a blatant sex bomb. ‘She’s working late.’

      ‘She always works late.’ Mason sounded pleased. ‘She’s an angel. I get in every morning and everything is so organised, she makes it a breeze.’

      An angel? Carter’s suspicions sharpened again. Penny wouldn’t be the first attractive young woman to turn an older man’s head. Carter knew exactly how easy it was for an avaricious, ambitious female to use her beauty to dazzle a fool old enough to know better. He’d watched not one, but two do that to his dad. Despite her outraged reaction, who was to say that wasn’t what was happening here? ‘How long has she been with you?’ He couldn’t not ask.

      There was a silence. ‘Since after the problem started.’ Mason’s voice turned arctic. ‘I thought I’d made this clear already.’

      Yeah. Mason had mentioned his fabulous PA more than once—but not her hotter-than-Venus factor. Not mentioning that didn’t seem natural.

      ‘You tell her what’s going on,’ Mason said sharply. ‘I should have already. Carter, she’s not who you’re looking for.’

      Carter stared at the temptation personified before him. Her mouth was as glossy and red ripe as a Morello cherry—and he wanted a taste. That was the real problem. Hell, he was off on a tangent before he’d even started. He owed Mason better than this. ‘You’re right,’ he said brusquely. ‘She’s not.’

      Penny watched him pocket the phone. He didn’t seem to be any happier about the situation—offered no laughter or light apology. If anything he looked as angry as he had when he’d first interrogated her. What was he here to do exactly? Mason hadn’t elaborated, just told her to help him if he asked her to. They hadn’t advertised a new job—she was the one who placed the ads so she’d know. So this was cronyism, some old boys’ school network thing. But he was hardly a fresh-faced graduate getting his first contract courtesy of his father. ‘You know Mason personally,’ she said baldly, annoyed by the fact—annoyed by him—and his attractiveness.

      ‘Have done for years.’ He nodded.

      Yeah, that was why the job, whatever it was, hadn’t been advertised. Mason had probably made something up for him to do. Still smarting from his gold-digger slur, she let her inner bitch out to taunt. ‘You don’t look like you have to pull favours to get a job.’

      ‘Don’t I?’ he answered too softly. ‘How would you know? Is that what you do?’ He leaned closer and whispered low, as if they were intimate. ‘What kind of favours do you pull to score a job, Penny?’

      Okay, she’d crossed the line a little, but he’d just leapt it. ‘What sort of favours do you think I pull?’ she fired back before thinking.

      His eyes flashed, the pupils expanding so fast the piercing colours became the thinnest of circles around the burgeoning black. Riveted, she watched the myriad greens and blues narrow out. He really did have it—perfect symmetry, angular jawbones and hair that just begged to be ruffled and then gripped tight.

      The palms of her hands tingled, heated. Only it wasn’t just his hair she imagined pulling close, no, now she was pulling on hot, silky hard skin, stroking it faster and faster and—OMG where had that come from?

      She gulped back the insanity. She couldn’t be thinking that. She looked down and clamped her mouth shut, swallowing both literally and mentally, overly aware her breathing had quickened to audible—basically to panting. Again.

      Oh, please don’t let him know what she’d been thinking. She glanced back up at him. All the blue had gone from his irises leaving nothing but thin rings of green fire around those huge, black pupils. Dusky red tinged his cheekbones. She could relate. Blood was firing all round her body, pinking up all sorts of parts—her face included. But at least he wasn’t panting like some dog in heat, which she, unfortunately, was.

      He said nothing, she said nothing. But she could see it shimmering in the air between them—razor-sharp attraction. Urges at their most basic. Urges almost uncontrollable.

      ‘There’s a problem in the accounts—some-one in the company is skimming,’ he suddenly said roughly, jerking his head up.

       ‘What?’

      ‘I’m here to check through all the files and find out who and how.’

      Someone was stealing? And Carter was here to catch him? Mason had said he headed up some company in Melbourne, so was he some kind of CEO/forensic accountant or something?

      Actually that didn’t seem to fit. Not when he wore jeans and tousled hair so well. He looked as if he had too much street cred to be a number cruncher.

      ‘The only people who’ll know the real reason I’m here are you, Mason and me,’ he continued. ‘We’ll spread it ’round the company that I’m a friend of Mason’s who’s borrowing an office for a couple of weeks. Which I am.’

      The fiery green in his eyes dampened to cold blue serious. The sensual curve of his mouth flattened to a straight, hard line. Penny stared, watching him ice over, as she absorbed that info and the implications.

      Then she realised. ‘You thought it was me?’ She basically shrieked, her temperature steaming back up to boiling point. She might be many things, but a thief wasn’t one of them. ‘I’m the best damn temp in this town. I’m hardworking and honest. How dare you storm in here and throw round your gutter accusations?’

      ‘I know.’ His expression went very intense. ‘I’m sorry. Mason already told me it couldn’t be you.’

      He sucked the wind right out of her sails and disarmed her completely with a sudden flash of that smile. It cracked his icy cover and let the heat ripple once more. But she refused to let her anger slide into attraction. ‘You still thought it,’ she accused.

      ‘Well, you have to admit it looked … it looked …’ His attention wandered—down. ‘It looked …’

      Her body—despite the freezing wet shirt—was burning. Okay, that attraction was impossible to stop—simplest thing now would be to escape. ‘Well, now that you’ve done your looking,’ she said sarcastically, her eyes locked on his, ‘are you going to step back and let me past?’

      ‘Not yet,’ he said wryly. ‘I’m still looking.’

      Penny’s nerves tightened to one notch the other side of screaming. His lashes lowered and his smile faded. She looked down too. Now her silk shirt was wet it was both skin colour and skin tight and she might as well not be wearing anything. Even worse, she was aching … and horrified to realise it was completely obvious.

      ‘You’re cold,’ he said softly.

      Yeah, completely obvious.

      ‘The water in the jug was from the cooler.’

      ‘So that’s the reason …’

      All she could do was brazen this out. She tossed her head and met his eyes direct. ‘What other reason could there be?’

      His lips curved. In his tanned face, his teeth were white and straight and perfect. Actually everything in his face was perfect. And in the dark tee shirt and dark trousers he looked pretty-boy pirate, especially with the slightly too-long hair. The intensity of his scrutiny was devastating and now he’d fixed on one thing—her mouth.

      She saw his