Read The Hunted Online

Authors: J. D. Chase

The Hunted (4 page)

“No!” he said, lacking sincerity.

 

“You so did!” I laughed, “I can hear it in your voice.”

 

“Did you just say that you can hear me rolling my eyes?” He was openly laughing at me now.  “I think you need more sleep, Issy!”

 

I sighed in exasperation.  “Whatever.  Anyway, why did you call me?”

 

“My morning started well and has continued to go well.  I have managed to secure a deal with a Singaporean company for far less than I was prepared to pay and now I have received the architectural drawings for mini Dakota when I wasn’t expecting them until next week.  I thought about taking them over there today and examining them on site.  I wondered if you wanted to come along. I know I would welcome your input.  That‘s if you aren‘t too busy, of course.”
 


When? Now?”

 

“In an hour or so.  The choice is yours but I’m going to head over there anyway.  The sooner I get work started, the better.”

 

“Well, I guess so.  I had only planned on going for a jog around Bryant Park this afternoon but I’m not sure I can manage that today.”

 

Oh crap! Why did I say that? 

 

I knew that it hadn’t passed him by from the amused tone in his voice.  “Really? Okay, do you want me to pick you up on the way, or do you want to jog over and meet me there?”

 

I knew he was baiting me. 
Two can play at that game!
“I don’t want to come to you all hot and sweaty and panting, so-”

 

“Oh Issy, I think it is a little late for that! Don‘t you?” he snickered.

 

I groaned in exasperation.  “What time shall I expect you?”

 

“Give me 90 minutes, okay?”

 

“Fine.  Oh, and thank you for the beautiful flowers.  You have good taste, Lucas.”
 


That I do, Miss Price.  See you soon.”

 

There - not awkward at all.  We even made references to last night.  Who’d have thought?  Mixing business and pleasure … having a one night stand and letting him stay over … and no consequences.  Amazing!

 

I called down to the front desk to inform them of Lucas’ planned visit.  Angel had gone with Chad to a band rehearsal so the apartment was quiet.  I put my iPod into its speaker base and pressed shuffle.  I chilled out to Scar Tissue by the Red Hot Chili Peppers as I finished off my bagel and put my plate in the dishwasher. 
Well, I was right - one night of hot sex and my tensions have vanished. 
I smiled to myself and went to get ready.

 

Exactly on time, my intercom rang.  I answered and asked James to tell Lucas that I would be right down.  I scrawled a quick note for Angel in case she was back before me, picked up my keys and went down to meet him.  He was chatting amicably to James when I entered the lobby.  They both smiled as I walked towards them.  “Ready?” asked Lucas, looking very relaxed and well, downright gorgeous.  I remembered that he was like this when we first visited mini Dakota. 

 

I nodded as James held open the door for us.  “Have fun!” he said and I gave him a dazzling smile as we walked to the waiting Lexus.  In the daylight, I could see that it was deep graphite grey.  Lucas’ driver held the rear door open and I scooted along the back seat, making room for Lucas to follow me.  I reached for the architectural drawings that at the far end of the seat, and asked if I could take a look, making him laugh.  “What?” I asked. 

 

“I think you’re even more excited about this project than me,” he grinned.  “Oh, I hope I can do that building justice.  With your help, I am sure I can.”

 

I felt so happy at that moment.  It truly was a privilege to be involved in the restoration of such an amazing building and the awkwardness I had felt in Lucas’ presence had gone.  I recalled his words from the club the night before ‘
Look at how you fear me now.  I actually do hope that you feel differently about me afterwards’
.  Things just couldn’t have gone more perfectly. 
I wonder how many more problems can be solved by sex.  Hmmm, now that is an interesting thought.

 

The car deposited us outside the building and, as I followed Lucas out, I had to resist the temptation to gasp at the beauty of it as I looked up.  He caught my hand and grinned.  “Come on,” he said gleefully, as he dragged me to the gate.  Once inside the building, we spread open the drawings on a disused desk. 

 

“I think I have decided to go with my instinct and convert the building into eight large luxury apartments.  What do you think?” he asked, pointing to the corresponding plan.

 

My mind went back to our meeting in his office, only the day before, when he had asked me the same question. 
Wow! Was that only yesterday? How far we’ve come since then.
I looked at the detailed drawings.  I could see that an underground garage would be possible thanks to the current underground service area.  It would be accessed from the road behind the building so the cute, gated entrance could be kept.  I had assumed that the central courtyard would have to be used for parking and I was delighted that it could remain as it was originally intended.

 

I studied the plan for one of the apartments that would be on the top floor.  It would have three bedrooms, three reception rooms, three bathrooms and a large kitchen diner.  Small balconies would open off the lounge and the master bedroom. 

 

“I think it is a fabulous idea,” I gushed.  “I love this apartment.  Can we go visit that part of the building first?”

 

He smiled, rolled up the designs and took my hand, leading me to the elevator.  As we ascended to the top floor, I asked him how much of his personal style, if any, he wanted to stamp on the interior of the building. 

 

“I’m not going to live here, so I will leave that to you.  I’m sure you have a better taste than I do.  It may be that some of the apartments will be taken before they are completed, so you may well be working under someone else’s direction ultimately.”

 

We wandered around the top floor, noting where the rooms would be.  I suggested making some changes, for example I felt that the master bedroom and the lounge would be better placed overlooking the courtyard, than the busy road.  Lucas listened to all of my ideas, comments and suggestions, occasionally making notes on the drawings. 

 

When we emerged back into the spring sunshine, I gasped.  A white bistro table and two chairs had been placed in the courtyard, sometime after we had arrived.  I looked at Lucas questioningly, and he just smiled and tugged at my hand to follow him.  The table was set for an English style afternoon tea with china cups and saucers and a three tier cake stand, loaded with a variety of delicious looking treats.  

 

I looked up at Lucas as he pulled out one of the chairs for me.  He looked uncomfortable and cast his eyes down to the floor so I resisted the temptation to ask him what this was in aid of.  He pushed my chair in and then took the chair opposite.  He seemed nervous, taking a deep breath before asking whether I liked tea or whether I would prefer coffee.  I said that tea was fine and told him how I took it.  I watched as he poured from the china tea pot skillfully.  “Help yourself to a cake or two,” said as he handed me my tea but I noted that he didn‘t look at me once. 

 

The atmosphere was strained as I struggled to understand why he had arranged this and why he seemed so agitated. 
So much for progress!  Here we are again, unable to relax in each other’s company.  Hang on, this is different - this is not because of the sexual chemistry between us.  This is something else.

 

“Lucas, are you okay?” I asked quietly.  “You seem … distracted.”

 

He finished pouring his own tea and then put down the tea pot and closed his eyes.  He let out a long breath.  “It looks like you were right,” he said. “Things are different between us after last night.”

 

“Yeah,” I agreed, “But why is that a bad thing?”

 

His eyes shot open and his gaze locked on to mine.  “You are acting so indifferent towards me.  It’s like last night never happened.  I know that this building is distracting but still, Issy … last night, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from mine, from my body but today …”

 

“Today, we are past all that.  We have gotten it out of our system and we can now concentrate on our business relationship.  I am so glad that I can talk to you now and not feel overwhelmed by your presence, by your masculinity.  It has worked out perfectly, don’t you think?”

 

I saw confusion, or possibly hurt, flicker through his cobalt blue eyes before they darkened swiftly.  He swallowed and narrowed his eyes.  “I’m sorry?  ‘We are past all that’ - what the hell does that mean?”

 

“It means that we can now move forward with our professional relationship,” I said, wondering why he was so angry.

 

“I see. And what about our personal relationship?” he asked, quietly. 
Too quietly!

 

His eyes burned into mine forcefully until I couldn’t stand the ferocity of it.  I looked down and saw that his hands were gripping the edge of the marble table top, his knuckles were white. 
What personal relationship?  What the hell …? 
My earlier jubilation at successfully mixing business with pleasure, flashed through my mind. 
Oh hell! Please tell me he didn’t think that last night was the start of something more!

 

“Lucas,” I said carefully.  “We had one night of mind blowing sex - that doesn’t constitute a personal relationship.  That constitutes a one night stand.”

 

He couldn’t have looked more stunned if I’d reached out and slapped him hard across the face. 
Oh fuck!  This is why I don’t spend the night with anyone.  They wake up the next morning and think that you are in a relationship. Why the fuck did I let myself fall to sleep?  Nice one, Issy.

 

I continued quickly “Yesterday, in your office, you said that you don’t have the time or the inclination for relationships. Remember?  At no time last night did you mention starting a full on relationship with me.  I don’t do relationships either, so I don’t see the problem.  We were consenting adults, Lucas.  We had a brief sexual relationship - a one night stand - that was totally amazing; at least it was for me.  The whole ‘I want to fuck you now’ vibe, that we both experienced, was threatening our business relationship.  That’s now gone, because we have exorcised it.  We had great sex, got it out of our system and now we can work together without distractions.  A win, win situation, wouldn‘t you agree?”

 

He stared at me as I spoke, the muscles in his face tensed and his eyes continued to darken.  I glanced at his hands gripping the table top and was relieved that it was made of marble, anything less would surely have crumbled in his vice like grip.  The thought made me uncomfortable.

 

Neither of us spoke and the atmosphere grew increasingly frosty, despite the glorious sunshine.  “I think I should go,” I muttered as I stood, leaving my tea untouched.

 

His voice was barely a whisper.  “I never have the time or the inclination for a relationship, Issy.  I haven’t for a very long time - if ever.  But last night changed that for me.  When I said I wanted you, I meant that I wanted a relationship with you, not just sex.  Having sex just confirmed that.  If I had known how you felt, I would have walked away.”

 

Oh god!  What a mess.  How could he misconstrue my intentions - I made myself perfectly clear, didn‘t I?

 

“Several times yesterday, I told you to stay away from me.  And when I agreed to have sex with you I was clear that it was just to get it out of the way, you even picked up on my choice of words, for god’s sake.  How could you assume that I wanted a long term relationship with you from that?”

 

He stood and raked his hands through his hair.  “I thought you meant to get the first time out of the way, that it was an inevitability that it was going to happen sooner or later so it may as well be sooner,” he said quietly.

 

I sighed.  “It looks as though we have suffered a major breakdown in communication.  We both said what we wanted but we both misinterpreted each other’s words.  Well, I think it is good that it is out in the open so we both know where we stand so there can be no confusion from now on.”

 

“So we just carry on like last night never happened?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Exactly.”
Phew!  Crisis averted!

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