âI think talk of work can wait until laterâ¦â
He brushed a finger across the smoothness of her lips. âWhereas thisâ¦canât.â
His hands gently cupped her face as his head lowered toward hers. The touch of his lips against hers and the way he held her as he kissed her felt incredibly sensual and possessive. It was no gentle kiss either; it was powerfully masterful, very dominant. Charlieâs senses swam with desire, and before she could think better of it, she was kissing him back with a hungry response. She was aware that his fingers moved to lace through her hair, controlling her as he thoroughly explored the sweetness of her mouth.
Charlieâs emotions were all over the place as he pulled away. A part of her wanted to go back into his arms, wanted him to continue kissing her. The other part was mortified by how easily she had just capitulated to his caress, by how wantonly she had returned his kisses. He was her boss, for heavenâs sake! This could only lead to disaster.
KATHRYN ROSS was born in Zambia, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen she was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, Designed with Love was accepted by Harlequin>®. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.
CHARLIE opened her eyes and memories from the night before flashed through her mind with agonising clarity. The date had been a complete disaster.
She hadnât really minded the fact that the man sheâd met had turned out to be five feet two instead of six feet two, as he had described himself on his profile, or even the fact that he had been nearer to fifty than thirtyâ¦she wasnât ageist and she didnât think that looks were the most important things in life. However, his grey pony-tail had been a bit of a turn-offâ¦as had the fact that they had absolutely nothing in common except that they were both divorced.
After the first fifteen minutes the date had gone rapidly downhill. Maybe internet dating wasnât a good idea. She shouldnât have allowed her friends to talk her into it.
The alarm clock rang and she reached sleepily to switch it off. A few moments later Jack came running into the bedroom. âTime to get up, Mummy,â he sang in his usual happy tone before bounding into the bed to give her a hug.
âMorning, darling.â She kissed the top of his dark silky hair.
âNana let me have chocolate and watch TV with her when you went out last night.â
âDid she?â Charlie smiled. âNana spoils you to bits.â
If it had been a weekend they would have snuggled down for a little while and chatted. For a four-year-old Jack was a great conversationalistâ¦. probably better than her date last night, she thought with a smile. But this was Friday and there was no time for frivolity.
âCome on, then weâd better get you ready for school.â
The cottage felt cold, Charlie thought, and she put her hand on the radiator as they padded through to the bathroom. The central heating hadnât come on, which meant there was very little hot water.
Once she had dressed Jack she went to investigate the problem, but she couldnât fix it, so it was a job for the plumber again. She dreaded to think how much the repairs were going to cost.
After that there was just time for her to tie her long blonde hair back from her face, grab a piece of toast and flick through the morning post. Bills, bills and more billsâ¦pretty much the norm. The terraced cottage was small but it cost a fortune to maintain.
At the moment Charlie was a PA and worked as a temp for an agency owned by her friend Karen. Her current position working for a doctor of psychology, who was also a bestselling author, was her most profitable assignment to date. But she still found it hard to balance her finances. The truth was that running a house and being a single mum wasnât easy and at the end of the month there wasnât a lot left over for luxuriesâ¦let alone boiler repairs!
But she would manage, she told herself firmly as they left the house. She always did.
It was a misty September morning and her old car coughed and spluttered before flaring into life. Then Jack pushed a CD into the player and they sang along with some classic love songs all the way through the rush-hour traffic.
Twenty minutes later, with Jack safely ensconced at school, she pulled back out into the traffic. She turned the volume up and hummed along to the CD as she headed for Oxford and her heart lifted. OK, so her date last night had been dreadful and there had been nothing but bills in the post, but she had the best son in the world and at the moment she was working for a very dishy boss. Just thinking about Marco Delmari gave her a little flip of anticipation.