Seduced By The Boss. Natalie Anderson

together by their friends or family. But he’d whisk her into the nearest, tackiest place he could so he could get his hands on her? He was the proverbial dog in the manger. Not wanting her but not wanting her to have fun with anyone else? Not fair. Not right.

      She grabbed his chin and forced it up, making him look into her face. Her nails curled into the vulnerable space just below his jawbone. If she were truly part animal she could kill him this way—pierce the skin and slice his throat. But that wouldn’t serve her purpose at all. She wouldn’t scratch him, couldn’t hurt him—not that way at least—despite the anger burning inside her, and the bottomless well of pain that was feeding it.

      For a long moment she looked into his eyes—saw her anger reflected. What bothered him so much? Surely not her dancing with Jay?

      No, this anger was too deep for that. And too old. It was the bitterness she’d seen in him before, only tonight it was burning out of control.

      She looked away, caught sight of their reflection in the mirror—her face pale, her lips that ridiculous bright red from her forties fashion look.

      She turned back to him, brushed her lips against his jaw and then looked at his skin. All praise to the modern cosmetics companies with their long-lasting lip colours—but they’d yet to make them smudge free.

      She kissed his jaw again, then down his neck, pressing her lips hard all the way down to the starched white collar of his shirt—and then across that. As she made her mark she let her hands tease him, inflame him, distract him.

      ‘Sophy.’

      She swore she’d heard that old thread of laughter then—yeah, he was so confident of her surrender. She let her hands slip lower—harder.

      She heard his hissing breath, felt the surge of energy and braced herself.

      But nothing could prepare her for what happened. His hands twisted in her hair as he held her firm and gazed at her. His burning black eyes bored into hers—but there was no laughter in them, not even a smile. He was all serious, so intense and, if she was right, so sad.

      It began as the softest kiss. Then his arms went tight around her, sealing their length, and she felt him straining against her, his touch scorching, his need overwhelming.

      Finally the kiss eased. It was then that she found it—the strength to push him away. To her surprise he let her, his head snapping back as she shoved him hard in the chest.

      She blinked away the tears—of bewilderment, resentment and plain old hurt.

      ‘Gosh, Lorenzo—’ her voice shook ‘—you have lipstick stains all over your face and all over your shirt.’ Her bitter laugh turned into a sob halfway through. ‘How are you going to hide your dirty little secret now?’

      The fury that flashed made her run.

      ‘Sophy!’

      How she got the door open she never knew. But she ran through the crowded bar, desperate for an escape.

      Jay materialised in front of her, eyes wide. ‘Sophy?’

      Yeah, her little paint job meant she had more than a make-up malfunction now, she probably looked like a reject from clown school with the slut red lipstick smudged all over her chin. ‘Walk me to a cab, would you?’ She had no idea where Rosanna was but would get Jay to pass the message on later.

      ‘Of course.’ He moved instantly.

      ‘I’ll do that.’ Lorenzo was on the other side of her.

      ‘No, you won’t.’ She pushed past him.

      ‘Are you okay?’ Jay muttered, putting his arm around her, glaring over her head at Lorenzo, who silently stalked next to them.

      ‘Never better. Will you tell Rosanna I’ve gone home?’

      ‘Sure.’

      They got outside. Jay kept a protective arm looped around her shoulders as he stepped to the kerb and waved his spare arm at the taxi rank not far down the road. The first one peeled off and came towards them. Jay stayed with her, holding the door—blocking it from Lorenzo while she got in.

      ‘Sophy.’ Deadly quiet but she heard him anyway.

      Just before she slammed the door she answered. ‘Not now, Lorenzo. I’m too angry, and you’re too drunk.’

       Chapter Eleven

      SOPHY hadn’t been home fifteen minutes when the thudding on her door started.

      She opened the door and glared at him. ‘I said not now.’

      ‘I’m not drunk.’

      ‘Oh, please.’ She looked at the way he was breathing, at the flush in his cheeks. ‘Did you run here?’

      He shrugged.

      ‘You shouldn’t run in those shoes. It’ll be bad for your feet.’

      ‘Says the woman wearing stupidly high heels.’

      She whirled away and walked down the hall. ‘What is it you want, Lorenzo?’

      She heard him close the door and walk after her. ‘I just wanted you to know it’s not you. It’s me.’

      She stopped and turned back to stare at him. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ She laughed. ‘That’s the line you’re giving me?’

      ‘I was jealous as hell watching you dance with him. Even though I knew there was nothing in it, I was wild. I can’t even blame the booze. I’m sorry.’

      ‘You could have danced with me.’

      He shook his head. ‘You’re too good for me.’

      ‘Oh.’ She clasped her hand to her chest. ‘Another great line. Whatever will be next? Let me guess, “I just don’t do relationships, darling,”’ she said, dropping her voice a ridiculous octave. ‘“I was born to be alone.” Am I on the right path?’

      He’d gone pale. Stopped halfway down the hall. ‘Why did you want me to meet your family?’

      ‘I didn’t. It wasn’t like I was going to introduce you to them as my boyfriend or anything, Lorenzo. Heaven forbid.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I just wanted you to be there. I wanted your support.’

      ‘No.’ Lorenzo took a deep breath in and reminded himself that he was not going to lose it. Not again. Now was the time for some honesty. He owed her that, at least. ‘I’ve met your father before.’

      ‘You have?’

      ‘He was the presiding judge when I was up in court.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Youth court. I was thirteen.’

      ‘What had you done?’

      He shrugged. ‘Graffiti, theft, destruction of property. It wasn’t the first time.’

      ‘What did he do?’

      ‘Ordered some community service. Made the order to send me to that school.’

      ‘Dad did that?’

      ‘Yes. I had “potential.” They thought it might bring it out.’ And it had—to a degree.

      She lifted her brows. ‘And you think what? That your past would put him off you now?’

      Of course it would.

      ‘Doesn’t all you’ve done in the last eighteen years count for anything? Or are you stuck in some kind of time warp? You don’t think what you’ve done with your life since matters?’

      He shook his head. She just didn’t get it.

      ‘So tell