In Bed With Her Tall, Sexy Handsome Boss: All Night with the Boss / The Boss's Wife for a Week / My Tall Dark Greek Boss

Chapter Seven

SHE kept the mute button on those damn alarm bells that kept trying to ring off in her head. As the day dragged into evening neither of them raised the subject of her going home, or work, or what was happening between them. After she’d stopped his attempt earlier it was as if they had an unspoken agreement to ignore it completely and just enjoy the now.

She knew she should leave, that staying meant it was only going to be harder tomorrow, but she was still so damn tired and it wasn’t just her body fighting fatigue, but her will as well. She just couldn’t deny it any more. Her desire for him was overwhelming. And now she had known the fulfilment of it she couldn’t seem to give it up. She just wanted to give into it over and over. One more night, she promised herself as he pulled her to him, just one more night. But the mute button was failing so she tried mental earmuffs. Ten seconds into his kiss she was in the clear, her mind latched onto one thing only.

The loud beeping of his alarm startled her.

‘Damn,’ he groaned. ‘I have to go.’ But he made no move to leave the bed; rather he proceeded to awaken her fully with his own playful style.

He wandered off to shower and, appalled, she felt the lethargy return. As she lay recovering she broached the subject she’d been ignoring for the last thirty-six hours.

‘I should go home and go to work.’ She said it as soon as he walked back into the room.

‘No. You’re still sick.’

She half drowned his reply as she hacked through another coughing fit. Holding his shirt, he looked at her with the most outrageous ‘I told you so’ smirk.

She sighed, her eyes watering. ‘I should at least be recovering at home. The fever has gone.’

‘No.’ The finality in his tone was unmistakable. No doubt about it. He was used to getting what he wanted. Getting used to having her. Trouble. Ignoring the fact that what he wanted from her was exactly what she wanted from him, she forced irritation to the fore.

‘Rory,’ she began crossly, ‘I can’t stay here.’

He leaned over her, his arms imprisoning her in the bed. He kissed her slowly. ‘You can’t go. You’ve got no money, no clothes, and I’ve got your keys.’ The devilish glint in his eye softened. ‘Just get some sleep, beautiful. We’ll talk tonight, OK?’

Incredibly she did spend most of the morning asleep. The cough still racked and her body felt as if it had been hit by a bus. Not surprising given the workout it had had in the last two days. She smiled. Rory had amazing stamina.

She scavenged in the kitchen for brunch and realised she was looking forward to him walking through the door. Counting the hours, in fact. Uh-oh. The phone rang and she stared at it, holding the fridge door open although it wasn’t that causing the chill on her skin. It clicked to the answering machine.

‘It’s me. Pick up.’

Rory. She picked it up immediately, instinct overriding better judgment. It was a brief call; he seemingly had nothing of great importance to say. She was certain he’d only called because he’d wanted to make sure she was still there.

‘I’ll be home as soon as I can.’ He rang off.

Home.

She slowly put the phone back on its cradle and stood staring at it for long moments. Where was home? She had been travelling for almost two years loving every moment. But her time was up. Her ticket already booked. She had friends she hadn’t seen in all that time already planning lunch dates. She was looking forward to it, damn it. The old saying popped into her head, mocking her. ‘Home is where the heart is.’ Tears sprang at her eyes. She knew just where her heart was—in trouble.

She leaned against the bench for support as she began to realise the full consequences of what she had done. She’d tried to stay away from him because she knew how dangerous office affairs could be. But she’d succumbed to the attraction in the privacy of his home. And in doing so she’d opened herself up to a far greater hurt. Even if she did think for a moment, just for a moment, that he was as crazy about her as she was for him, it still wasn’t going to work because her flight was booked. She was going to have to say goodbye to him. And as hard as that would be it would only get worse the more time she spent with him now. Saying goodbye sooner would be better than later.

Her mother had suffered years of loneliness and heartache after the death of her lover, Lissa’s father. He’d died when Lissa was only a tiny life growing inside her and her mother had been little more than a child herself at the time. To lose a lover, your true love, be it through death or geographical circumstance, was devastating.

The force of her emotion terrified her and she knew in her bones it was only going to deepen further. She’d really fallen in love with him. He had his career here, his family, his life. Even if he wanted to she wouldn’t let him give that up. Besides, this was just an affair for him. Who was to say it was anything more than a weekend’s ‘distraction’?

Doubts raced at her, scurrying through her mind, making her feel fear, making her want to run. She tried to fight it.

She went back through to the lounge and stared half-heartedly at the bookcase. She needed something to read for a while. Daytime TV depressed her and if she went back to bed now she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep tonight. Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea—a night of insomnia with Rory for company? Bad idea. She shook herself; she had to get this under control.

She stared at the spines of the books, uninspired. And then she saw the album on the bottom shelf. Guiltily, knowing she shouldn’t but unable to stop, she pulled it towards her and opened it. Rory the gorgeous as a baby, aged two, and onwards till it ended with him looking about sixteen. She turned the pages, entranced at the images of him. Amazed that the features she adored had been so noticeable from such a young age. Those vivid green eyes, and thick dark hair. She traced the development of his strong male physique. No boy should have shoulders so broad. She half laughed at the awful clothing he’d worn as a young teenager, knowing she’d been as guilty of the same crime. She studied the pictures of him with his parents and sister. They looked a close family. A happy family. It was obvious they still were—devoted Uncle Rory. She sighed and looked across at the fire, gloomily pushing away the spark of envy. They were poles apart. How could they ever have a future together when their pasts were so different? She’d had only her mother, her father dying before she was born, her grandparents had rejected both her mother and her. After her mother had been killed in an accident she’d been alone and naïve and fallen for Grant. She seemed destined to make this kind of mistake.

Game over. She paced, ready for him. She’d been wearing a groove in the rug half the afternoon, going stir crazy. Getting incredibly anxious about the mess she’d got herself into with her uninhibited indulgence. She needed to get outside. Most of all, she needed to get away from him. She’d woken from the dream and those alarm bells were ringing non-stop. Nothing she could do would silence them now. It was only a matter of time before he hurt her, intentionally or not. Sure, she’d just had a weekend of the best sex of her life and she loved the way he could make her laugh, but it wasn’t going to last and she needed to get out now before she ended up totally wrecked. She had to say thanks, goodbye and move on. Back to work, back to platonic. For a moment she dreaded his reaction—would he turn on her as Grant had? Surely not. But she had a goodbye planned, one she was determined to enjoy.

The key sounded in the lock and she marched over to meet him. She watched as he entered and with bitter-sweet pleasure saw the desire already evident in his face. It grew as he looked her over. She had dressed in a pair of his boxers and a shirt, unbuttoned to the waist. She saw the gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

‘Come and sit on the sofa,’ she invited softly. ‘You must be tired from a hard day.’

‘Tired is the last thing I’m feeling,’ he replied, but complied anyway, taking a seat in the middle of the sofa.

She looked down at him, a soft smile curving her lips. She watched as an answering smile spread across his features. His eyes twinkled. She loved that lusty, expectant look he got. She loved it that he was hot for her the minute she looked at him. His hand went to loosen his tie.

‘Uh-uh,’ she said, shaking her head, determined to keep it light, keep it fun.

He stilled and his grin turned wicked.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘You’re the boss, huh?’

‘Damn straight,’ she replied. He certainly was a quick learner, but then she knew that already.

With a fluid movement she peeled off the boxers she was wearing. She moved forward and straddled him on the sofa, her knees comfortable in the soft cushions on either side of him. He rested his head back and watched her as she undid his belt and trousers, pulling them aside just enough to free him.

‘You’re every fantasy I’ve ever had, you know that?’ he muttered.

She smiled.

‘Only more,’ he added reverently. ‘Much more.’

She touched her mouth to his, protecting herself from those powerful eyes and tempting words.

He was ready and she’d been ready for hours. There didn’t seem much point in mucking around. She bent forward and feathered kisses along his jaw.

‘I’m going home tonight,’ she whispered as her hands slid down, holding him where she wanted him.

His head jerked up. She stopped him replying by placing a finger on his lips and squirming her hips down on him hard. She felt him gasp as she took him into her all the way. Then she leant forward and kissed him ruthlessly. She couldn’t block the emotion: desperation and sorrow and all her desire. She held nothing back. Then passion increased and it flooded out the heartache. She longed to give everything to him but she couldn’t. All the while her hips moved sinuously against him with a slow and crazy rhythm. When she freed him from the kiss he was panting, his hands hard on her hips trying to control the tempo and pull her even closer.

She tossed her head back. ‘I’ll stop right now if you don’t agree.’

Who was she kidding? She couldn’t stop now if she tried, her hips seemed to have taken on a life of their own and she desperately rode him harder. He knew. He bucked upwards and she sucked in her breath, unable to stop the answering rotation of her hips. A lazy grin appeared on his face, but the red tinge in his cheeks gave him away.

‘Oh, so you’re playing hardball,’ he mocked.

‘You’ll be the one with hard balls if I don’t get what I want.’ She could do this; she could. It was to be their last time together and it was going to be dynamite.

‘I’ve got what you want and it’s right here, beautiful.’

True, but only for a limited time. Doubt gnawed at her. Part of her would love to believe in him, in this. She pushed the thoughts aside and strove for nonchalance; she was not going to ruin this final coupling.

She raised her brows, moving slowly against him. ‘Cocky.’

‘Very.’ He nuzzled against her breast. ‘I bet I can make you come before I do.’

She pulled back and looked at him. A smile tugged her lips. ‘Well, now, that is a challenge. And the prize?’

‘Where you spend tonight.’ His hot mouth covered one of her hard nipples and sucked on it hard. The desire to ravish him increased threefold.

‘Fine.’ She threw her head back as she savoured the tugging sensation at her breast. God, he was good. But she could be too. She flexed her most feminine muscles, hard, several times.

He whistled slightly as he sucked in a sharp breath. His fingers bit into her hips a second before he shifted slightly beneath her. Then he looked up at her and grinned slyly. ‘You forget—I’m getting to know you, Lissa. I know what you like.’

She pressed her lips together. That was certainly true. She opened her mouth to breathe out heavily. She needed to regroup, but his attentions were proving hard to ignore. She closed her eyes. What was his thumb doing? Pushing all the right buttons. She moved and tightened again, retaking control. She felt him tense and smiled a little. This was one bet she couldn’t afford to lose…

In the finish they tied. It hadn’t been a long race either, the pleasure of giving doubling the pleasure of receiving. They lay sprawled on the sofa, him still half dressed, clothes askew, her completely naked and wanton.

Coldness stole into her. She sat up and pulled on his shirt, wrapping it tightly around her. It was finished. It had to be.

‘I’m going home tonight, Rory. Even if I have to walk there barefoot and break the window to get in. I’m going home.’

He stared at her moodily.

‘You can’t have everything your own way,’ she continued, looking away from the disappointment she glimpsed in his eyes.

‘I want you to stay.’

She jerked her head back. It had sounded suspiciously like a command.

His green irises darkened, drawing her in. ‘We have to talk about this.’

She rose from the sofa, turning her back on him, ignoring his frustrated growl. She needed to keep this light. Not enter into a heavy conversation in which declarations might be made. False promises, the rashness of passion. Better to chalk it down to a fun weekend—one to be walked away from. ‘What would you have me do—stay here for ever as your sexual playmate?’ She glanced over her shoulder at him.

A wolfish grin leapt across his features. ‘Not a bad idea.’

She ignored him and started on her arguments. ‘I’m going back to work tomorrow. I need to get home and sort my stuff out.’

‘I don’t think you should. You’re still pale, you look exhausted.’

‘And who’s to blame for that? You think I’m going to get much sleep here?’

‘What if I promise not to touch you?’

She threw him a sceptical look. ‘Look what happened the last time you promised that. Forty-eight hours later you were ravaging me in the stairwell. I need to get back to work. They’ll be getting a temp in to cover for the temp. I want to go, Rory.’

He studied her and she met his gaze squarely. He looked sombre and she knew she had won.

‘OK, I’ll run you home after dinner.’

‘No, I should go now.’

‘After dinner.’ He spoke abruptly. He looked at her and softened a little. ‘I’ve seen what’s in your fridge, remember?’

She decided to quit while ahead.

They barely spoke through the meal. She tried to eat something but her appetite had vanished. She caught him looking at her several times with knowledge in his eyes and, coward-like, she looked away, trying to buy a few minutes’ more time before she had it out with him. Despite the frenzied love-making they had just shared her body was starting to ache with want again and she knew she needed to get away from him fast.

They drove across London in silence. His car wasn’t too flashy, not a convertible, but big, German and fast with plenty of leg-room. Many women would be wowed. She wasn’t. She didn’t like thinking of him wowing the ladies as she’d joked that first night. She stared out the window, her mind absently ticking off the sights, her heart, for once, not in it. It was occupied by something else. The big, tall hunk of a man next to her she was determined to reject.

He pulled up in front of the estate. He turned the engine off. She made no effort to move. They sat in silence. Her brain whirred.

Finally he looked at her and sighed. ‘Go on, then, say it.’

‘Say what?’

‘Whatever it is that’s been on your mind all evening.’

She stared at him and then focussed ahead on the motorbike parked outside one of the ground-floor units. He was right, time to say it.

‘I wanted to say thank you for being so good to me while I was sick.’

‘And?’ he prompted. He wasn’t making things any easier.

‘And I really appreciate it, I do. And I wanted to thank you for…’ she faltered as she searched for the words ‘…for giving me such a great weekend.’ She could feel the heat from her blush on her cheeks. This was ridiculous; she sounded like a schoolgirl thanking her best friend’s parents for a nice trip to the movies.

‘But?’ he prompted again.

She grimaced at his ability to pick her mood so easily. ‘But I don’t think we can continue this any further.’

‘What?’ he asked.

She turned and looked at him. ‘We go back to being work colleagues tomorrow,’ she said firmly. ‘Nothing more.’ The fatal words were uttered and she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

Chapter Eight

INCREDIBLY Rory laughed. He threw his head back and laughed, really hard. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

Lissa stared at him, shocked.

He sobered and stared back. ‘You’re serious.’ The wonder in his tone did nothing for her confidence. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. ‘Lissa, don’t you get it? It’s too late. The volcano’s erupted, the dam’s burst, the horse has bolted. The genie is out of the bottle—’

‘Enough with the clichés.’ she interrupted sarcastically.

He carried on, ignoring her. ‘There’s no going back. We’re on a runaway train, darling. There’s nothing you can do but hang on for the ride.’

And wait for it to crash? No, thank you. She inhaled deeply and spoke sharply. ‘Stop it. Next you’ll be talking in management speak. All about low-hanging fruit and synergy.’

‘Well, we do have the most amazing synergy.’ He sighed. ‘Lissa, you can’t be serious. We’ve just had the most incredible weekend together. I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, but you can’t deny it. This isn’t just anything. This is special. Why can’t we enjoy it while it lasts?’

For once it was panic rather than lust speeding up her pulse. ‘Rory, it was just great sex.’ She stared at the motorcycle. How could she ever have thought this was going to be easy? This was Rory, champion charmer and people manager.

‘That’s bull and you know it.’ He seemed to be going for the less charm, more honest approach. ‘We made love, Lissa. Your words. Remember?’

She gulped and tried to ignore the direct hit. She couldn’t let it work. ‘No, Rory, it finishes. You know you’re the same. You never blur the line between your private life and your professionalism.’

‘Professionalism?’ He swore sharply. ‘This is crazy. You’re wanting to throw this away on some temp job?’

She clenched her teeth together. The panic receded and anger ran icily through her veins. He thought it was just some temp job, did he?

‘Yes, I am,’ she said coldly. ‘Because that temp job is important to me.’

She saw anger flash in his eyes. ‘Don’t you think it’s just a little too late for this?’

‘It’s never too late. These things can be contained. It was a fling, Rory, that’s all.’

‘Really?’ His eyes glittered and she realised she’d just made him very, very angry.

Before she could move he’d leaned across and pressed his lips to hers. Not hard and fierce, but gentle and tender. Taken by surprise, she let her guard slip. Her mouth softened and, oh, so skilfully he parted her lips with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. It was beautiful. Absurdly she wanted to cling to him. Why did he have to make this so hard? He lifted his head, his eyes still flashing fire.

She looked back at him, willing the silly tears in her own eyes to disappear. The awful tiredness had returned and she just wanted to crawl off into bed. With him, but that was something she could barely admit to herself.

‘Why do you want to stop this?’ he asked softly, and she closed her eyes against the desire she saw in his and summoned the anger and hurt she’d felt in the past.

‘Just because you’re my boss at work doesn’t mean you can boss me about here. You don’t call the shots.’

She heard his sharply indrawn breath. ‘Now, hang on, Lissa. It really bothers you, doesn’t it? The fact that I’m your boss.’

She clenched her teeth. The whole thing bothered her. How had she let this happen? She beat her head back on the headrest of the car seat.

‘Look, if it makes you feel any better I can arrange it so we’re not assigned to the same team again. I won’t be your direct manager.’

It was like Grant all over again. She couldn’t stop the barrage.

‘You think that makes it OK? That it’s fine that you can rearrange my career for me? That who I get to work with, or what project I’m on, is down to you. That my work options are limited because of an affair that we’re having?’ She’d had one boss who had unfairly controlled her employment options. She refused to have another.

‘Well, what would you have me do, Lissa?’

‘The situation is impossible. It will never work. We stop this thing now.’ The anger was all to the fore now; she could ignore the icy pain in her chest.

‘So you’re telling me that for as long as we’re working together we can’t be together.’

‘That’s right.’

He stared down at her thoughtfully. ‘OK, beautiful, have it your way.’ His face had hardened and remoteness replaced the tenderness in his eyes.

She opened the door and stepped out into the chilly night only just catching his low murmur, ‘For now.’

She trudged up to her door feeling as if she’d just ripped out her heart, stuck it in a Ziploc bag and shoved it in the bottom of the freezer.

Rory strode down the corridor unable to stand it any longer. He hadn’t seen her for two days and it was killing him. He’d purposely avoided the information centre. She obviously needed time to cool off and think about things. Maybe the weekend had been too overwhelming. It sure had blown him away. Maybe they should have talked about things earlier instead of leaving it till that car ride home. But he’d known she hadn’t wanted to talk much and, to be honest, nor had he. He’d just wanted to go with the moment and had hoped that every time they’d made love she had sunk deeper into his web as he had hers. Magic—no other word for it. But doubt gnawed at him. For the first time in his life he felt uncertainty. He couldn’t see where this was going. Wasn’t sure he wanted to. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready for it to end. Not yet.

His gut tightened. But what about her? Could she switch off just like that? Maybe it had just been a weekend of wild sex and nothing more. Maybe it was all over as far as she was concerned. She pushed him away at every corner.

He thought back to that parting kiss. She’d wanted more then. No, he couldn’t believe it was finished, but he needed to know for sure she still wanted him. He stopped off at the Gents on the way to calm down and get a grip. He couldn’t exactly just march in, grab her and kiss her senseless even if that was all he wanted to do. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Something was bugging her. She’d said she didn’t like being talked about. That was why her behaviour was usually so circumspect in public. He grinned; she wasn’t quite so circumspect when she was dealing with him. In public or private. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from reacting to him—teasing him as much as he loved to tease her. He got to her and he needed to play on that for all he was worth.

She hated that they worked together. Hated that he was her boss. He frowned. She hadn’t been impressed when he’d suggested he arrange it so they were no longer on the same team. Too late to change things now, but he was sure she’d be pleased when she learnt what had been done. And at least it removed that particular obstacle.

The fact was he wanted to spend more time with Lissa. And not just time in bed. She was beautiful, smart, funny and he loved the way she teased him. He loved the way she laughed at his lame jokes. He found her zest for life intoxicating. She was fun to be around. And then there was the sex. Spectacular. He’d known she was passionate but, flu or not, she was amazing. Every waking moment of that weekend she’d been at him. It made him want to throw his head back and roar like a lion. It made him want to stake his claim big time. He wanted to go exploring with her. He wanted to tag along on her tourist outings. Laugh with her about being ripped off by ice-cream vendors in Italy. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t been to Florence. He wanted to take her there. Stand with her when she saw Botticelli’s Venus for the first time, wink with her in front of Michelangelo’s David. Drink wine, eat lots and make love morning, noon and night. It was as if he’d come home to a holiday romance.

His heart beat faster with every step nearer her desk. She was looking magnificent in a red suit, the jacket buttoned up. She’d swept her hair back into a severe style, the golden tresses locked away. He grinned. She looked the über-professional ice queen. She would. She didn’t look up as he approached. Only when Gina said, ‘Hi, Rory,’ did her head fly up. He watched her intently. No mistaking the flash of fire in her eyes. She quickly dampened it but he took perverse satisfaction in watching a slow tide of colour rise in her cheeks. An uncomfortable silence prevailed.

‘How can we help you?’ Gina finally broke it.

He thought about his reply a second, wishing he’d had the nous to actually think up an information request before charging up here.

Lissa suddenly stood. ‘I’m going to sort out those CDs,’ she muttered.

Rory wasn’t sure to whom. She marched down to the other end of the room behind the book stacks to where the search computers were. So she wanted to get away from him did she? Tough. He couldn’t help but watch her as she moved. Her red skirt ended just above her knee. He mentally slid a hand under the skirt, imagining the stockings and suspenders he knew he’d find underneath. He drew in a sharp breath and studied the painting on the wall nearest him. Geometric blocks of colour sploshed haphazardly over a white canvas. Thank God. A nude or even a still life with ripe, round fruit would have been a problem. He needed to think neutral thoughts or he’d be in big trouble.

Equilibrium restored, he turned to follow Lissa. He found her viciously shoving CD cases back into their respective shelves.

‘You know—’ he forced himself to speak lazily ‘—for someone who wants to avoid attracting gossip, you’re going the wrong way about it.’

She didn’t look up. ‘If you’re wanting some information, Gina can help.’ Her hands continued sorting the CD-Roms.

‘I don’t want information.’

She hesitated. ‘Then—’

‘I want you,’ he interrupted. He watched happily as she stood breathing shortly in front of him. Puffed from handling a few CD cases? No, that was him; this thing between them. Electric. How it had always been. He stepped closer, she didn’t move away.

‘I missed you.’ He spoke honestly. He didn’t know what else to do. He saw indecision on her face and offered a smile.

‘Rory, please.’

She didn’t smile back; if anything she looked more distressed. Then he recognised it—fear.

After a couple of false starts he managed to say the words he hoped would reassure her. The words he meant with all his heart. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

Her lashes swooped down, hiding her response.

He didn’t know if it had been a dumb thing to say. He waited another second, watching the tide of colour in her cheeks flow and then slowly ebb.

She opened her mouth and suddenly he knew he didn’t want to hear what she was going to say. He put his fingers on her lips and before he could stop himself he swooped and stole a quick kiss. It blossomed immediately. His heart thundered. He felt her soften and he swore he heard a soft moan escape her. His hand lifted to hold her head to his and he felt her tremble. Hurriedly he pulled back. They would go from naught to two hundred in a nanosecond, but not here.

She stared up at him. He watched as emotions warred within her. He decided to relent for now. He’d found out what he needed to. The rest could wait. She’d come to it soon enough. There was no reason they couldn’t be together until she left. They needed to have a big talk, preferably one that ended up in bed, but now was not the time.

He smiled at her. ‘That was a freebie. Next time you ask. See you ‘round, beautiful.’

He turned and walked away, only just winning the battle not to swing back and take another look at her. It might only be lust, but she couldn’t deny that she had feelings for him and those feelings would win out. Rory one, Lissa nil.

Having the most orgasms in her life in a three-day period had the most unfortunate after-effects for Lissa. It was as if now she’d been switched on she couldn’t be switched off, walking around in a permanent state of semi-arousal. It took only the slightest friction or most fleeting thought of Rory to result in a flood of heat and the mad desire to go find him, press against him and take him in. She could only be thankful that their two-week period confined in a room was over. There was no way she could hold fast to her resolve if he were in such close proximity. She tried to concentrate on the information request before her, but every time someone entered the information centre she looked up—the original rubberneck.

She tried to blame her struggle for concentration on the after-effects of the flu, but her heart knew better. She kept replaying that morning’s all too brief kiss with Rory at the other end of the library. He’d completely ignored her call to end it. He wasn’t giving up on her. The knowledge made her giddy. He’d sought her out and proved to her that he could move her. What the hell was she going to do? The fact that they could have been seen by anyone wandering in the library hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe the thought of people knowing they were an item didn’t bother him. Grant would never have taken such a risk. In a perverse way this pleased her. Here was Rory, the one and only, the guy who never fooled around in the office, messing with her, Lissa, the temp from New Zealand.